Lyrics French Montana

French Montana

Reign In Harlem

Come on man

That pressure, boy

This that 09 pressure, right, French?

This is Harlem

The Coke Boys

Grease!

You need a fix, homie, the goons goin get you right

When it come to bricks, you know I got the systom right

Makin wrong turns, put you in the body bag

Lotta nniggas waitin for they turn, but it probly pass

Catty all black, money can't save you, when we put that 10 through your back

Bad blood, only when the streets fuck with you, you goin be layin flat in your bathtub

Masked up

I ain't the best lyricest, but that ain't my thang

No, homie, that ain't my lane

Na, I do it for the hustlers, customs, niggas in the crack house

Cuttin up, feds all rushin 'm

I did it all, didn't do it all alone, not a damb thing changed

We bang till it's over, homie, it's so cold

My wrist so frozen

7 60 L I, sittin on Chroam shit

Now agree with me, when I'm rollin through your hood

With the AK in the back, they say Greasey, what's good?

And I never ever ever scream peace

Still on the run from the motherfuckin police

City with the bright lights, homie, I shine

Caught the beef, niggas drop a dime

Now how many dimes can you drop, before them niggas wanna kill you?

Therefore I roll with the squad, the murder game's not for you

Niggas gonna blead, like the blood from the issue

I deal with your issues, I'm always gonna get you

The nigga need a tissue, the homies gonna rince you

Take the back door, come hit you with the missiles

Shootin all them bullits, on the east coast ridin

This the black Coke dealer

Me and the million dollar scribin

D price go up, the feends they be wilden

D boy from Harlem, the D boy from Harlem