French Montana – A1 (Intro Track) Lyrics

like Method
I made it even and the game is odd
Everybody kickin’ game, tell the bitch the truth, she think you God
[Refrain: French Montana]
Tell mama to pray for me; feds got a name for me
Cell waitin’ for me
Mils’ I made from it; chains, waitin’ for me
Change, I made from it; Montana ain’t a dummy, uh
[Outro]
La música de Harry Fraud
It’s nothing to take me higher Play this song
[Intro: Koko Taylor]
Oh, yeah, oh, yeah
Everything, everything, everything gon’ be alright
Oh, yeah
Coke boy, baby, baby, baby
[Verse 1: French Montana]
Ha, yeah, graduated while I’m aggravated
From the half that made it, we was drinkin’, faded
Me, and life and death is half-related (H-half-related)
Masturbatin’ on a scale for a hundred million
Askin’ God how we made it
Watchin’ John David Robinson, now my dawg robbin’ some
Half a David, freedom got confiscated
We mob-relate, John Gotti, RICO, life like a free throw
Yeah, school of gladiators, makin’ Salaat on a [?]
Black glove, hot slug for these cold women
Militant like the Middle East, go for menages
69, said 6ix9ine conspiracies
Triple threat, trinity, triangle officers label in [?]
Yeah, Allah prophet
They hit your brain, mop it, clean
What type of [?]? Put the needle in your ass, keep they table green
Multi-millionaire, strapped like Oda
Guarantee she knew tricks to old dawgs (Bom-bom-bom)
[Refrain: French Montana]
I told mama pray for me, baby, wait here for me
God and Cain, waitin’ for me; the hate, came from me
Millions I made from it; chains, waitin’ for me
Change, I made from it; Montana ain’t a dummy, uh
[Verse 2: French Montana]
New year, half a mil’, face on the bill (Bill), here, Cabo chill
Desperado with an AR like the top, Montana John stop
If there’s a movie out, play the Al Pacino part
Mama raise us all, and you been a [?]
Not even Cuban, smokin’ Cuban cigars in Cuba
Lost Jinks, lost Macs, lost [?]
Drinkin’, smokin’ feel empty in this penthouse (Ah)
[?] like [?], mans like rainbow smoke, 41 shots like Diego
Shout-out to Abel, I turn the Weekends to the Weekdays
DJs to the PJs, the week like four nights and three days
Yes, I big like the kid from [?], just us
Stylist out be dressin’, bitches gon’ be stressin’
Money with the best of them, C.R.E.A.M.

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