Montana Of 300 - Slaughterhouse | Текст песни

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• Montana Of 300
• Slaughterhouse

[Produced by Dami Tha Prince]

[Verse 1]
I do this for the ones from the bottom that never had a chance
Straight off the porch from the slaughterhouse to the savage land
Make niggas lean if they intervene with Montana’s plans
With this big old strap round my neck I shoot like the camera man
Go call them people, I’m bodying them, no ambulance
I rolled down on em, way colder than any avalanche
This MC keep the tooly, but I don’t hammer dance
The body bags on these niggas look like some hammer pants
Man I remember them nights when my mom was getting high
She locked herself in the bathroom while a young nigga cried
At times felt helpless, didn’t give a fuck if I live or die
Some heavy praying to god and now I’m back energized
You motherfuckers don’t know the pain that I feel inside
I drop to my knees every day and thank god I’m still alive
Was ill advised, getting fly when I shouldn’t have spent a dime
Been blamed for murders, caught cases, yeah I’ve been criticized
Hunger, passion, rage, when I rap they say I’m uncivilized
I was facing nine the lord saved me right in the nick of time
Montana the truth, you just proof that the devil been a lie
Dealt with all my struggles and troubles that made a nigga wise
I’m gon make sure that my family eat when it’s dinner time
First nigga cross me, it’s over for him like finish lines
I put that clip to their back and I won’t get penalized
I put that on life, Imma turn these niggas to nigga pies
Yeah, I got these rappers on my dinner plate
You April fools don’t see the enemy
I penetrate and make these pussys hyperventilate
I ain’t got no beef cause I done murdered all my enemies
Innovate when I illustrate, straight up out the illest state
I’m the reason you niggas hate
Been schooling you niggas, too weak for me just like winter break
I been this great, this nigga made, I got more juice than minute maid
I ain’t always been this way, there’s reasons why I renegade
I make an example out you nigga, don’t make me demonstrate
Tell Satan that I’m murdering any goofy he send this way
Glock pop at your top before I let an opp get rid of me
Don’t make me do my homework, find out where that nigga stay
Cause Imma light him up the same night like Independence Day
Understand you’re playing with fire nigga
These other rappers look at me like barbed wires nigga
Got that Smith and Wesson and plus an extra clip up in my jeans
We gon make it home safe cause I got hitters on my team
I done seen some of the coldest niggas give up on their dreams
Lost they vision for the green, I seen niggas turn to fiends
I ain’t tripping, no submission, I ain’t quitting, Andrew Wiggins
I’m on mission, Russell Simmons, I go get it for my team
Put a bad bitch up in traffic, now she whipping for a king
Puppet master for the cash, I got these bitches on a string
And I ball hard till I’m fouling out, that’s why I be styling out
Cause other than my kids, shit I ain’t got too much to smile bout
Cut out all that wolfing, give a fuck bout what you howling bout
Cause I’m ready to bang like a judge pulling his gavel out
Bitch I'm made, self employed, real McCoy, toting toys
With no FOID, I destroy, I’m too poised for these boys
They annoyed by my noise, fighting, tryna raise my boys
Bitch I’m Molly, Roy, Jones
Mike Tyson mixed with Floyd
And greedy people hang around you when you promise them blessings
Would you still be loyal to god if he didn’t promise you heaven?
How would you live after you sin and God wasn’t forgiving
You say since I’m going to hell, I might as well keep on sinning
Blood sucking motherfuckers, they judging, I’m glad I ain’t you
I can’t be bought with bribes, I’m loyal because I’m thankful
I spit what’s painful, cause nigga I’m not ashamed to
Frequent conversations with the one you always pray to
Asking for forgiveness, I been whacking shit like Babe Ruth
Bitch I keep that thing glued, my lyrics is brain food
Your bitch on my dick, boy I’m the one she give that brain to
And that pussy’s so wet that I should fuck her wearing rain boots
So if you heard about a nigga super sick with the flow
Don’t beat on women but that nigga steady hitting your ho
Both of his wrists is icy, look like he been digging in snow
Run with a clique of dirty boys, on the mission for dough
Murder whenever he feel like it’s time for niggas to go
Hey that’s Montana, AKA the flyest killer you know
God

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