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letra de rock (remix) - 051 montana

rock (remix) lyrics
[intro]
fatz gang, fatz gang
los city money gang man

[verse 1: montana]
we got some glocks, they 30 shots
me and [?] take over your block
my shooters, my shooters
they pop out with [?]
b-tch we pop tops, b-tch we the opps
them n-ggas pull up, red tape on your block
chasing the opp and i know i can’t stop
get a lil’ closer then unload the glock
so many shots, they be praying it stop
so many shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots
so many shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots
so many shots
foenem be bussing pop out the vans
and get to spraying on you and your mans
my y’s ain’t playin’, ain’t no new friends
if they switch up, if they switch up
how can i trust em’ again
since they took fatz, since i lost fatz
i swear them n-ggas be praying, n-ggas be praying
cooling on this fn
drill wick gon’ get him again
free aero mans out the can
young money we chasing them bands
i’m just tryna get me some bands
wanna see my n-ggas win
cause these n-ggas be [?] and fake
keep my [?] for the snake
f-ck 12, middle fingers up to the jakes
on the 55th stick, b-tch won’t play
masked up, so they can’t see my face
blowin’ on bob and the wood to the face
last time i beat the case
free d-money
big bro in his way
this glizzy pop off
make a n-gga do the race
and it’s f-ck 12
they get behind us
then we going on a chase
catch a opp in his day
cause them n-ggas ain’t on [?]
k!llers with me everyday
body bag, d.o.a
free brother rosé
loose screw we don’t play
four shots to the face
cook a n-gga [?]
all my n-ggas bdk
die 5 drop a rake
tote sticks everyday
put the hit on replay
[?] boy your mom ’bout to pray
but i guess it’s too late, cause he died yesterday
shots fired everyday
black got hit with the ‘k
order drills broad-day
order drills broad-day
order drills broad-day
[verse 2: drilla’]
doing drills broad-day
shorty pop out with the cut with ‘k
ridin’ down drexel you know it ain’t safe
everybody wrong [?] the jakes
b-tch i popped out with the stick
i just f-cked a n-gga b-tch
ridin’ down right on the six
tryna do em’ like quint
you know we [?] we gon’ ride right past [?] pop out that b-tch
n-ggas talking in they songs we gon’ hit em’ [?] goofy-ass tryna go in the crib
you know i keep a pole on me
can’t let a n-gga go on me
n-gga try to act too hard
he gon’ be a dead homie
hit my line if you n-ggas want smoke on the guys that sh-t free
i’ma walk up on you
i’ma be the last face you see

[outra: drilla’]
b-tch
you can’t hang b-tch
if you ain’t fatz gang b-tch

- 051 montana

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