Lyrics French Montana

French Montana

Last of the Real

I'm gangsta

I'm gangsta

Alright

Aye

We the last of the real

Pull count it must feel

Last of the real

My gun speaker out of that verse

The last of the real

Pull count it must feel

Last of the real

My gun speaker out of that verse

Stay strapped, got a big number one supersized Big Mac

3-57 in the 57 Maybach

Made you fucking niggas sloppy

I be Rocky Asap, lay you down face flat

Man the last of the real, stackin the mills

I ain't talkin bout no lipstick when that Mac in your grill

Last of a dying breed, when I fire these

Hundred rounds, nigga stop speaking Guyanese

Got a clip and a chopper full of flower seeds

Niggas hanging all choppers where your momma sleep

We the best coke boys, nigga you ain't heard

My gun speed you of that way

We the last of the real

Pull count it must feel

Last of the real

My gun speaker out of that verse

We the last of the real

Pull count it must feel

Last of the real

My gun speaker out of that verse

Okay now play like I'm pussy

Killas fuck up your night

20 goons in your kitchen

Why you skyping your wife?

Like here the stash? In the safe

It ain't no asking you twice

My trigger finger be itching, that bitch be switching them why?

I'm like the last of the real

Well I own the half of a pill

Jumping off that bucket for real

30 niggas ain't crip with the steel

You don't want them problems, you don't want that drama

But I'd watch your mouth, you must be bonkers

You don't know of your momma, then it's how with marbles

Black on black, feeling like I knew Obama

Can I do no commerce to your coupes

Is why this miss Madonna

Motherfuck the loyal to your honor

Money and power, I talk that shit yet again

My gun speed you of that way

We the last of the real

Pull count it must feel

Last of the real

My gun speaker out of that verse

We the last of the real

Pull count it must feel

Last of the real

My gun speaker out of that verse

Last of the real, blue steel

We the best, we the realest

Me and Montana, never leave my home without the banner

Stop with my real vest

The last of the real

The one with the money and the whores

Boy fat pussy, finding beating on the floor

Blood clot, real to the floor

They don't make us no more

We the last of the real

Pull count it must feel

Last of the real

My gun speed you of that way

My gun speed you of that way

Ra pa pa pam speed you out of that way

We the last of the real

Pull count it must feel

Last of the real

My gun speaker out of that verse

We the last of the real

Pull count it must feel

Last of the real

My gun speaker out of that verse