French Montana, Chinx - Whiskey Eyes lyrics

[French Montana, Chinx - Whiskey Eyes lyrics]

On the count of three I
Want everyone to say it (Ciroc party)
Hold up, baba on the count of three I
Want everyone to say it
"I'm a mothafuckin' coke boy" 1, 2, 3
I'm a mothafuckin' coke boy

You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You'll tell me things
I know they're all lies
I'll fall, I'll fall for you
And there's nothin' I can do

Yea, Montana
Ay, hit the game, put the wave in it
Go, go on tap your veins
Put the needle in it
I I snatch you by your head
Like an eagle did it
Shootout with the police like Sigel did it
Middle of the streets like The Beatles did it


Can't be in it when you leave
Or they leave you in it
Ev-Everything that's gold ain't
What it glitter
I seen killers fold, foes turn to killers
Have your money right when the law call
I seen my favorite rappers turn to cornballs
The best thing I did was let
That pain hurt my feelings
(Turn the pain into music)
Turn the music into millions, haan
Got jerked my first deal
And I told 'em "Suck a dick"
Once I made my first mil'
I told them "Fuck a brick"
Brick, brick by brick, 'til it's empire
L-l-lick by lick, gone a sleepwire
Had to learn taxes, help you relax
If you don't own your masters
Your classics turn to ashes
So hit the round table, count it all up
Or get the brown bag, count it all up
Call the bad bitches, round 'em all up
Count it first, we can count it all up
Millionaire bitches, hit the mall up
(International superstar
You know who we are)

You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You'll tell me things
I know they're all lies
I'll fall, I'll fall for you
And there's nothin' I can't do

They said kill 'em with success
Toe tag ya up
N-n name a Hollywood bitch I ain't rag up
P-p-promise, the pressure turn to diamonds
The karma turn to commas
If the block told you eye to eye
Seeing dreams in a bottle
The younger son of Pablo
Trips out to Cabo, deep sea with a model
That's Tammy from Miami
Put her face on the white like Sosa
Come and get a close up
I'm on the post like the power forward
From the hoodies to the Tom Ford
Big up, f-for the stick up
They wanted me to hiccup
I copped the Bent' over sticker
A- about to come and pick your chick up
Gladiator theme music with Casino suit's
Godfather trilogy, Al Pacino shootin'
This that Benny Blanco 'fore
He killed Carlito
This that Larry Davis before
He caught that Rico
Them Bronx streets, Teflon fleek
In the jungle
While you holdin' hands in Palm Beach
We was climbin' fences
We was playin' benches
One time for my bitches
Naked on the trenches
European boots, European suit's
African diamonds, my niggas shinin'
My nigga Chinx son became my own son
The block where I'm from
You need your own gun

Devil held me up
Figured that I'd convert to God
Took my ground from the pavement and
Aimed it at the stars
Swag drippin' by the liter
Four ounce of purp'
The game ain't for the weak
Go and play the church
Off the Mary Jane, pills, syrup, thick smoke
Coughing
Ridin' on these suckas that opposed it
Ballin', took the whistle from the ref
And made my own calls
From the pens, got my homie on the phone call
No work, money goes under the mattress only
Hands clean
Got some youngins that'll back it for me
Really skatin' budget
Conflict diamonds only
Made my vow to the game, boy
That's matrimony

You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You'll tell me things
I know they're all lies
I'll fall, I'll fall for you
And there's nothin' I can do

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