French Montana - Whiskey Eyes (with Lyrics & Subtitles)
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French Montana - Whiskey Eyes (en) Lyrics
by RentAnAdviser.com
On the count of three I want
everyone to say it
(Ciroc party)
Hold up, baba
"I'm a mothafuckin' coke boy"
1, 2, 3
I'm a mothafuckin' coke boy
You lured me in with
those whiskey eyes
You'll tell me things, I
know they're all lies
I'll fall, I'll fall for you
And there's nothin' I can't do
Yo, Montana
Ayy, hit the game, put the wave in it
Go, go on tap your veins,
put the needle in it
I-I snatch you by your head
like an eagle did it
Shootout with the police
like Sigel did it
Middle of the streets like
The Beatles did it
Can't be in it when you leave,
or they leave you in it
Ev-Everything that's gold
ain't what it glitter
I seen killers fold for certain killas
Have your money right
when the law costs
I seen my favorite rappers
turn to cornballs
The best thing I did was let
that pain hurt my feelings
(Turn the pain into music)
Turn the music into millions, haaan
Got jerked my first deal, and
I told 'em "Suck a dick"
Once I made my first mil', I
told them "Fuck a brick"
Brick, brick by brick,
'til it's empire
L-l-lick by lick, gone a sleepwire
Had to learn taxes, help you relax
If you don't own your masters,
your classics turn to ashes
So hit the round table,
count it all up
Or get the brown bag, count it all up
Call the bad bitches, round 'em all up
Count it first, we can count it all up
Millionaire bitches, hit the mall up
(International superstar,
you know who we are)
They said kill 'em with
success, toe tag ya up
N-n-name a Hollywood bitch
I ain't rag up
P-p-promise, the pressure
turn to diamonds
The karma turn to commas
If the block told you eye to eye
Seeing dreams in a bottle
The younger son of Pablo
Trips out to Cabo, D.C. with a model
That's Tammy from Miami, put her
face on the white like Sosa
Come and get a close up
I'm on the post like the power forward
From the hoodies to the Tom Ford
Big up, f-for the stick up
They wanted me to hiccup
I copped the Bent' over sticker
A- about to come and
pick your chick up
Gladiator theme music
with Casino suits
Godfather trilogy, Al Pacino shootin'
This that Benny Blanco 'fore
he killed Carlito
This that Larry Davis before
he caught that Rico
Them Bronx streets, Teflon fleek
In the jungle, while you holdin'
hands in Palm Beach
We was climbin' fences,
we was playin' benches
One time for my bitches,
naked on the trenches
European boots, European suits
African diamonds, my niggas shinin'
My nigga Chinx son became my own son
The block where I'm from,
you need your own gun
Devil held me up, figured
that I'd convert to God
Took my ground from the pavement
and aimed it at the stars
Swag drippin' by the liter,
four ounce of purp'
The game ain't for the weak,
go and play the church
Off the Mary Jane, pills, syrup,
thick smoke, coughing
Ridin' on these suckas that opposed it
Ballin', took the whistle from
the ref and made my own calls
From the pens, got my homie
on the phone call
No work, money goes under
the mattress only
Hands clean, got some youngins
that'll back it for me
Really skatin' budget, conflict
diamonds only
Made my vow to the game,
boy, that's matrimony
Please support me on PATREON Thank you!