French Montana - 88 Coupes lyrics

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French Montana - 88 Coupes lyrics

Hah! Cuz I don't know what they totin You n***as smokin that Lamar Odom 88 coupes like a car lot I be 88 stories off the floor high You need the Phantom Rolls Flippin work, comin back like Derrick Rose Don't call me, I'mma call you Sicily, bread, olive oil Stop beggin n***a I don't owe you And once you cross the line n***a I don't know you Make about quarter mill a week Man that closet like Fashion Week Slingin d**, dealers got the package I still make Salah 5 times a day Tryna send mama to Mecca While a n***a snortin pound with the liquor Man watch for the stick up, (prrrp) G-O-D GOD flow Don Juan de Marco, lot like car show Feel for ya, nobody to k** for ya Wanna tell ya story but guys won't bear with you And nah, I ain't tryna get bread wit you So go and tell yo b**h to split the bill wit you I'm countin commas, young die with honor Turks and Caicos, still smoking marijuana Corner block was ya boy owe us Young boy shooter like Jamal Crawford Bricks in the basement, givin n***as spaces Clips in the Matrix, slid with the waitress 5 stars tell em, said she 16 Now that's R. Kelly, my n***as war ready Gifted and cursed, next step could be the worse Next coupe could be ya hearse Man this sh** hard when it hurt though My n***as slingin hard in front of church doors Man slingin hard was the first tour Now it's H. Fraud on a surf board I be clean as a whistle Team is official Black and white diamonds, all I need is a whistle My weed is the issue Now may I proceed to kiss you? They put you where both of yall single men Home-made speaker outta the Pringle can Can't wait to do your thing again When they mention your name the bells ring again Gettin that cake, it cause friction They love turn that hate to addiction Mind thinker but echo prescriptions Up in the presidential suite with a vixen A lot of s**ers in the bizz Good die young, s**a n***as live Quickest way to go, f**in with the kids He ain't gon stop til you pluck him with the SIG Lost 100 thou, f**in with the Knicks Flyin on a brukler, bucket full of bricks Last night club, f** it, where the b**h Cuz money in the field but I f**in with the 6 Words of advice, run through the game n***as know the hood run through my veins Real subtle with great poise Pure bundles, a straight boy Smoke loud, make noise Dream Team, Wraith Boys RIP Darry D and Nutty aka Troy What? D block & Coke Boys Pushin Yeah Uh f** wit me Harry Fraud's a bad motherf**er Yea Uh This sh** is stupid

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