Montana Of 300 – Chiraq Vs Ny

Montana Of 300 – Chiraq Vs Ny Lyrics

Artist: Montana Of 300
Song: Chiraq Vs Ny

They never thought it would happen this rappin’ stuff
Was facing cases because I got caught with gats and stuff
My haters thought I wouldn’t elevate from that trappin’ stuff
And f#ck twelve they want me back in the back with cuffs

God knows my needs that’s why I never ask for much
I work for mine I swear I never had good luck
My past was rough, my moms was high my dad was drunk
Start baggin’ up, I used to feed my mattress bucks

Rap god a.k.a. hip hop’s asthma pump
Don’t pass I’m clutch I’m gladiator Maximus
About my bills when I spit like I’m Daffy Duck
Expose the truth then turn and tell your pastor, “church”

They want beef until I give ’em what they askin’ for
They ratchet tucked Bruce Wayne the way we maskin’ up
We ride with straps you n#gg#s better fasten up
I keep the pump in my whip like I’m gassin’ up

That’s big sticks when we slide and we don’t pass the puck
The only time they want smoke is when you pass the blunt
We on your lawn with them choppas like your grass gettin’ cut
I blast, I bust, you die you just got whacked and touched

Your b#tch in heat
She say she want me bad as f#ck
The head was good
Deep throat like a giraffe and stuff

She gagged and sucked
b#tch damn near made me crash my truck
The #ss was pumped, I did my thing I smashed, I f#cked
And you ain’t winning if you spendin’ more than stackin’ up

If you ain’t mastering the math of your cash, you’ll flunk
I’m FGE, them Titans scared to clash with us
I’m in my bag b#tch don’t ever think I’m packin’ up
Way before the rappin’ b#tch I was trappin’ I used to touch bands

I got to that bag from the floor just like a dustpan
How is there so much creativity up in one man?
Giving kids food for their thoughts I feel like a lunch man
n#gg#s spent their last on a pair of shoes with a jumpman

Feeling like a mill when he walk, he must be a Bucks fan
And I’m no longer stuffing pounds in the duffle, son
I stay on you ’cause I care to see you smile and I love you
If you don’t add to the big picture you won’t value the puzzle

Please teach your kids that life is awesome
Sometimes allow ’em to struggle
And if they spend more than they stack
Then they won’t value the hustle

If you can’t nip sh#t in the bud and push then how you the muscle
Huh? Boss sh#t, call up my hitters and tell ’em tell fam
Hop out, put that strap to his head like he Quailman
Replace the hammers used and then pay him after they nail fam

What you know about killers comin’ dressed as a mailman
My homie told me I really don’t think they ready, fam
I bet he drop when I roll up on him just like the jelly, fam
We cuttin’ I put that on my blood just like a band aid

We comin’ ’round that b#tch blowing at you faster than fan blades
See, I just wanna see every one of my mans paid
Mama in the mansion relaxing, don’t need a damn thing
Drinkin’ lemonade with her feet up under the damn shade

n#gg#s didn’t wanna believe me until them bands came
Knowing when I go in I’m known to go on a rampage
Madness written all over they faces like Macho Man shades
It’s like, ever since I got my bag right (woo!)

All these b#tches wanna act nice
It’s money over b#tches I’m pimpin’ ’em like a Cadillac
b#tches know I’m lit yeah I got ’em drippin’ like candle wax
Thinkin’ ’bout the top, reachin’ for my belt like a ladder match

He say he want smoke plus his b#tch on my pipe, I had to crack
Rap god, baby, my lyrics could cure cataracts
Arsonal just said, “n#gg#s lucky that you don’t battle rap”
The fake be flippin’ sides for that money just like an acrobat

The real ones gonna ride through them ups and downs
Like a camel’s back
One life in God’s house
Ain’t no second life where the attic at

From the struggle I had to grind to get out my habitat
Orange and green buds by the pound
It’s looking like Apple Jacks
Four hundred forty eight

When I package that, clients back to back
Matter of fact, only you p#ss# n#gg#s get mad at facts
I put that on my sons it ain’t really nothin’ to have you whacked
If Kris Kross, he can get thirty up out they Daddy Mac

That’s thirty for you haters, I’m shooting tell ’em come hack-a-Shaq
Pictures with my kids in my cribs ain’t no need to caption that
Ain’t nothin’ like the hugs from your cubs
When they know they daddy back

My daughter mother strapped, .22 in that Gucci fanny pack
Plus I dropped a bag on her kicks, n#gg# that’s hacky sack
G-O-D my chauffeur he opened that damned door for us
Labels ain’t controllin’ us, ballin’ like no one’s holdin’ us

Every line’s potent that’s why they come get they dope from us
And this is not a brothel, I promise you ain’t no hoe in us
Big choppas, takin’ off tops, that’s can openers
The bullets in my clip, yellin’, “p#ss# come get a load of us”

Teflon in my jacket, I’m Spawn with that ratchet
Put pawns in a casket, who wants to get it crackin’?
I’m a hundred like Wilt, tell your n#gg# he ain’t built
If he act rowdy I’ma pipe her, then that n#gg# gettin’ killed

Skrrt off up in traffic b#tch I’m smooth like silk
Left him wet and what came out that .40 cal wasn’t milk
Know your part, go home if you ain’t goin’ hard
The coldest art that’s ripping rappers’ souls apart

Came from the bottom I ain’t going back like Rosa Parks
These other rappers don’t compare to me like Noah’s Ark
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Montana Of 300 Lyrics – Chiraq Vs Ny

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From the album:
Pray for the Devil [Explicit]
Release Year: 2018

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPXQ0xu4PJo