Текст French Montana – Off The Rip (Remix)
Текст:
Chinx Drugz (French Montana):
Oh me, oh my my (Haan!)
Gon ‘need more quinine (Montana!)
Oh me, oh my my (Haan! Off the rip)
French Montana:
I’ma ride with my dog off the rip
Talking brown bag, paper tag off the rip
Shawty came through, bent it over off the rip
Dope boy back, popping tags off the rip, nigga off the rip
Started from the block, dirty money off the rip
Cut a shark fin, talking money off the rip
Walk up in the dealer, a hundred fifty off the rip
My dog came home, buck fifty off the rip
Haan!
Chinx Drugz (French Montana):
Oh me, oh my my
Cut dope, gon need more quinine (off the rip)
Oh me, oh my my
Cut dope, gon need more quinine (off the rip)
Forty knock his head off (off the rip)
Drop top V, niggas sped off (off the rip)
French Montana:
Rarri looking good on a strip
Talking a hundred mill as I mothafucking grip
Johnny Hancock, ten milli off the rip
Shawty bought her friends off the rip
Bitch bust it open, eating pussy off the rip
Westside, getting blood money with a crip
My dog getting out, money orders off the rip, boy
Manute Bol hanging off my clip, boy
Niggas running like a skit, boy
I’ll push you on my skit, boy
On my wrist is a brick, boy
Built the empire brick by brick, boy
Coke Boys off the rip, boy
Chinx Drugz (French Montana):
Oh me, oh my my
Cut dope, gon need more quinine (off the rip)
Oh me, oh my my
Cut dope, gon need more quinine (off the rip)
Forty knock his head off (off the rip)
Drop top V, niggas sped off (off the rip)
Chinx Drugz:
Coke Boys get the bloody money, dirty cash
Live niggas who smoke weed, car seat stashed
You monkey walk, I’m hunchbacked, speak quiet
Talking ’bout mi casa, scared to death when I pop up
Lil Wayne:
Got my homeboys here, so let me put my gun up
Price on ya head, where do I get rung up
I be with scumbags, all about that humbug
While niggas saving hoes, like dun-dun-dun-dun-dun
Choke yo ass with nunchucks, trunk full of blum-blums
Young Money; young guns, heroes, unsung
Give that bitch pompoms
Touchdown my nigga
Sittin on my money — a junk pile my nigga
Don’t you come round my niggas
Don’t come round my nigga
We ballin, never committin dumb fouls my nigga
We been hustlin, since Mike Tyson punch out my nigga
Feds listenin; OK, that’s enough bout my niggas
Yeah sippin on a lil sum sum’n, mind your business
Got these hoes waiting while I’m doin calisthenics
And she give me head while her lips move a mile a minute
And the bitch you kissin on just came out the clinic
I ain’t lyin, nigga I ain’t finished
Smoking on that good weed, what’s that scent? Not a penny
Montana, Corleone, Capone, Gotti, Nitti
I can’t show ’em how I do it, only how I did it
Lil Tunechi