17,000 lyrics

[Intro: Pillsbury dope boy]
I'm baaack
So skinny, Frenchy
(woah, woah, woah) I told 'em. Go ahead
Them n*ggas sold 17,000
You know I had to get on yo ass
I mean, God damn. I looked at my blackberry

[Verse: French Montana]
Them n*ggas sold 17,000 (Hellooo)
That's a damn shame
They don't want to see a new n*gga do his thang
Tryna blackball me?
Playin' with a n*gga food, that ain't what a real n*gga do
I mean, homie but real talk
40 Cal. turn your fro to a mohawk
Bein' broke is not my thing
You missy n*ggas can't stop my reign
Tryna pop my chain (what?)
Wow, that's a hundred thou, 40 go blaw
You's a f*ckin' coward
They never learn
You had your shot, b*tch n*gga, its my turn
See it all clear, D, coca leaves, you can get it all here
Got my back to the wind
n*gga, I ain't never goin' back to the pen
(Rat tat-tat-tat-tat) Tappin' on the door, before I kick it in
Like (where the cash at?)
Hits all night, Benz all white
Reach, that'd be the end of your life
Him all right, but him not ill
Him just talk, n*gga I kill
I know what you think
Jewels all see-through like fish in a tank
Homie, from weed, coke, pills, liquor
Now rock with the new n*gga, Montana! (oh!)
[Outro: Pillsbury dope boy]
I'm the Macaroni wit da Cheese, man
That's what i told 'em
I look at his Soundscan, I see 17-5
And it ain't Jeezy
So I'm lookin', I call my n*gga French
You know, I told him
You the Macaroni wit da Cheese
Aye know ma n*gga, you know we in the hood, we just found Nemo
You know, shout out to Dub City
Motthaven, you know, Tremont
Shout out to ma n*ggas in Harlem
Can't call no blocks out there
But you on the menu, you food
You the steak with the shrimp and the A1 sauce, pimp