As I stand here and my mind begins to drift back
You know what time it is
To old grey-headed lady
When you hear that
Who used to watch all over me
Haan (la musica de Harry Fraud)
Sometimes, she would hold me in her arms
Smokin' on your Rushmore pack
She would begin to talk to the Lord
She would begin to tell the Lord
Smokin' on your Rushmore pack (ooh)
Montana

Lies don't faze me (uh)
Only surprised when they keep it real
Sixty mil' strong, that's time to heal
From the trap, we went bonkers, talk your shit (talk your shit)
We ain't the steppers, we the stompers, talk your shit (talk your shit)
Just rap, I made beats that's Grammy nominated
They locked up Max and took Chinx, made it complicated
Still settin' money orders when I get a call from 'em
When you start from the bottom, ain't no way to fall off from it
Word to Coletho for this game, ain't no exit
I was blessed with, never do a deal while you desperate (Don)
Sometimes you gotta let God fix it
'Cause if you do, you goin' to jail, they want you to rot in that cell
Devin Booker with the aim (aim)
Be careful who you trust, salt and sugar look the same (bah)
Wu-Tang with the dust, nine-six sherm, Staten Island
With my hoodie on, wylin'
Made millions off violence, drop your shorty on Oak Island

I always say this
At the end of the day, it's to be the best
No matter what y'all niggas, or what them niggas is doin', right?
When you say, "Who's your top five?"
All of 'em is gonna have one thing in common
And that's bars

JAY-Z repped Marcy (uh-huh), they should call me Cross Bronx
For all them niggas that done crossed me, you weren't with me, or you lost me (Woo)
Fiends jumpin' like a moshpit, talk your shit (talk your shit)
Shorty rippin' off my boxers, talk your shit (talk your shit)
Took Cocaine City to the extreme (uh-huh)
This ain't even the blind man could see in his dreams (woo)
It's a movement, not a moment (moment)
They kill you just to own it (own it)
Block hot, feelin' like the Colosseum with the Roman (bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah)
And you heard I'm it, Coke Wave boys boost the murder rate
Ghostface, and the Ghostface bumpin' Purple Tape (ayy, skrrt)
I won't apologize (nah), for how you see things through your eyes
Never judge a book, quarter-mill' a hook (hook)
It ain't the Montana from before (from before)
I still send your OG to the stove, uh (the stove)
You can buy the charts but you can't buy the culture
Me and Fraud back to back, I done told you (Montana)
Haan

And just like that
And that's all, folks
We back at it, Fraud

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Karim Kharbouch, Rory Quigley