| Woho, all I know is fast money and homicide
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| I see no way so I grind
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| Tell me what you would do if your life was just like mine
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| You would have found another way
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| But yeah you say we aren’t the same, but why, why?
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| Started at the bottom, no I ain’t got no worries
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| Gucci, Findi, Prada, that’s all my bitch wearing
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| I’m industry, you in the street, ain’t no comparing
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| My rolex got your bitch wet cause she keep on staring
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| I’m swagging on these bitches, stunting on these niggas
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| For all of part time, I’m pouring out the liquor
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| My brother locked down, and I can’t go visit
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| Convicted, felon, so al I can do is sent pictures
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| Hit the club and ball, me and my girls is dolls
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| We do it for real no fake instagram pics niggas like y’all
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| White diamonds no flaw, Lamborghini, no top
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| I’m riding with a, china doll, and she ain’t on no draws
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| You just gonna sit there and lie, act like this tough guy
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| Knowing you apple crumb pie, sat in the window cool
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| And you headshots to see us run by
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| Say mama they all get shooting, when I was at war, yet such a young guy
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| Too young to even be boozing, but every night I held my cup high
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| And slung the everything move
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| I was just like design my projects, get inside that letter box
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| Head inside that staircase, crack inside them yellow tops
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| The cops inside our bizness, sometimes they chilled and let us rock
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| Sometimes they on that picture, running through mud to try to get us knocked
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| What do you know about gemstar, sitting the slice in the dice
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| Weighting up shit then wipe, and all of the crumbs from all that triton
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| Going outside and risking everything, they coming upstairs and writing
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| I survived from luck of god, or maybe I’m lucky god just likely
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| I came from the colder, long marijuana
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| Platinum plaques off this rap shit, and now I’m shitting commas
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| Death before the sona, middle finger to your honor
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| Only god can judge me, head first in these streets
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| Body bag d peets, it’s blood money, your bitch was sliding in the new v
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| Shawty where does the fish? |
| Told her call me 2 piece
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| She smiled and blew me a kiss
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| I’m balling bitch I’m balling, turn the lights off to see my wrist
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| Young boss in the city, my heart cold, no feelings
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| My money running like emmy, my money running like fog
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| My money running Chris Johnson, or something like Frank Gal
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| 100 birds, 100 words, either way, I sell dope
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| Mad Max, niggas on the bad batch
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| Montana coke boys know we got the Anthrax
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| Coup white, shawty mean, long hair, ass fat
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| Dope boys, coke boys, hottest out
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| Put that on your last stat
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| Every shot clear block, that’s fact
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| Hit it then I slit it then I pass that
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| Fly and take cab back, balling new Ferrari with the glass back
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| Everything you fighting for, we had that
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| 2 shots, fast nap
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| Shots are like my youthem, 2 doors, coup them
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| Bad bitches loot them, talk birds, we move them
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| Get the purp I’m used to, get the smoke I’m cali
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| Coke boys we styling, bad bitches smiling |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song All I Know, artist - French Montana. Album song Comin Back Hard, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп