Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Burnin', artist - French Montana. Album song Coke Boys, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 12.04.2012
Record label: Coke Boys
Song language: English
Burnin' |
Yeah, we roll in the Cadillac nigga straight loc’in |
Top open everybody holding g’s |
Smoking on the Cali weed |
We proceed, we burning |
We bang like a heart attack niggas ain’t joking |
So focused, everybody hate police |
Won’t let a nigga roll this weed |
We proceed, we burnin' |
Call it been there, will spin it niggas all offended |
You know I’m 'bout to rape the game like a sex offender |
Gonna get it on your own no codependent |
Before you back your throne nigga know your limit |
Still burning rollin' with the top back three times felon |
Forty’s knock is top back |
New J’s on Chris Shawn going strong |
Your picking stems out your shit then you know its wrong |
Gone smoke out the chevy windows half cracked |
This the cali love, I blow my last stack |
Stealth mode with your bitch told her pass that |
Before she drop it on my carpet told her ash that |
We burnin, burnin |
Yeah, we roll in the Cadillac nigga straight loc’in |
Top open everybody holding g’s |
Smoking on the Cali weed |
We proceed, we burning |
We bang like a heart attack niggas ain’t joking |
So focused, everybody hate police |
Won’t let a nigga roll this weed |
We proceed, we burnin' |
Fresh up outta court |
Rolling up a dank |
Diamonds in the paint |
Harder than a tank |
Why the fuck them niggas have it |
Get up on your feet |
I’ll be court side braggin' |
20 for the seat |
Truck up in the hood |
Bitch with the sports bra |
Feet up on the wood |
I could flip a small car |
You bald headed skank don’t fuck up my high |
Canarys on the gold chain will fuck up your eye |
Plenty drink, plenty smoke, plenty niggas |
Steady fuckin' with us, niggas choke |
Naked bitches takin pictures |
I’m gettin throwed weeds official |
My wrist glisten, niggas broke (Fucked up) |
We burnin |
Yeah, we roll in the Cadillac nigga straight loc’in |
Top open everybody holding g’s |
Smoking on the Cali weed |
We proceed, we burning |
We bang like a heart attack niggas ain’t joking |
So focused, everybody hate police |
Won’t let a nigga roll this weed |
We proceed, we burnin' |
I’m from under of being hated |
They know I’m still the greatest |
I know some fakers that’s faking, I call 'em imitators |
I got a bitch and my mistress is still in patience |
And she missing the sick dick and she sick of waiting |
But I got sick of waiting |
I got a zip of piff that I’ve been puffin lately |
I feel like shit is gravey only if i make it out |
And if this road lead to a dead end I’mma make a route |
I got 'em all down south |
They go from making money out of town |
To get my own down south |
Disrespect in here will get you punched in the lip |
We got bricks not the back boy the front of the rim |
So a lot of pricks bitches often coming with me |
Spread money across the counter never question receipts |
I ain’t mean to approach ya |
I got my team to scope ya |
They took a shop to tangle all to keep my focus |
We burning |
Yeah, we roll in the Cadillac nigga straight loc’in |
Top open everybody holding g’s |
Smoking on the Cali weed |
We proceed, we burning |
We bang like a heart attack niggas ain’t joking |
So focused, everybody hate police |
Won’t let a nigga roll this weed |
We proceed, we burnin' |