Revolution lyrics

by

French Montana


[Intro]
It's the revolution, baby
Oh, they televising this sh*t right now
(It's my boy Masar on the beat)
(DJ Elyes)

[Verse 1]
Life in the pen', never that
They came back for the base, we came with the better crack
I came to provide the people better tracks
The narratives I engage, twenty years in the cage
Twenty years as a slave, ni-ni-n*gga please
Hang me from bigger trees
Play me, my trigger squeeze
Ecstasy liquor chase, pay me or get the ease
Watching him plead his case spray 'em or get the cheese
How could you f*ck with n*ggas that been from the jump?
I got a drawer full of ammo, I got a sawed off pump
I got my n*ggas, I activate 'em, they come with a phone call
Bust at the opposition, he die, it's his own fault
Gambled your life, n*gga, you reap what you sow
They send some killers to come and get me, I reach for the four
I signal left in the V like they ain't heard of the Don yet
Connections is overseas, murderous contacts
If its a genie in the bottle, then she better be a model
Got a dollar to my name, I'ma bet it on the lotto
We was playing in the sin, now we playing in the wind
'Cause if I could do it over, I'ma do this sh*t again
My n*gga, please, I'll trade you my b*tches for some weed (Come on)
Sixty of some liquor, my music is a disease
n*gga, freeze, put your hands where I can see
They were fed the wrong description and it wasn't even me
[Chorus]
I go soft, I go hard, take a look at all my scars
Frederick Douglas, Adam Clayton, Malcolm X Boulevard
I ain't never pull the trigger, sipping brown sugar liquor
Even mama call me bigger, make my money, say it, n*gga
All the women, all the weed
Watermelon spitting seeds
And these b*tches not my children, feel neglected [?][1:36]
Bowing down, spit the grit
In my town, this the sh*t
This a gift
Yeah, this a gift
Yeah, this a hit

[Verse 2]
Now every single time that the police come for a n*gga
I gotta run and take cover, they tryna gun for a n*gga
They wanna kill us in cold blood, leave us in bloody streets
The prophecy I fulfill top of the money reach
Choppers, we gon' conceal, pockets is on E
And every time I drop, I'm the hottest thing on the streets (Hottest thing, baby)
We was looting, n*ggas tried
And I had a of hell of a team, but a couple n*ggas died
And we was in no Gucci stores, couple n*ggas buy it
Some hammers and DVDs, couple of 'em fried
The witnesses on the stand, couple of 'em lied
They want me to take a plea, some pull up and hide
The Bentley pull up and swerve, some pull up and glide
She f*ck with them BNBs, I look at the sky
Them f*ckers they think could see me, I pull out the nine
Leave them f*ckers nice and dreamy and send 'em up to die
[Chorus]
I go soft, I go hard, take a look at all my scars
Frederick Douglas, Adam Clayton, Malcolm X Boulevard
I ain't never pull the trigger, sipping brown sugar liquor
Even mama call me bigger, make my money, say it, n*gga
All the women, all the weed
Watermelon spitting seeds
And these b*tches not my children, feel neglected [?]
Bowing down, spit the grit
In my town, this the sh*t
This a gift
Yeah, this a gift
Yeah, this a hit

[Outro]
I don't know about all that sh*t
This ain't no hit
n*gga, this for the streets
For your motherf*cking mind
Boss Don, Negro Spirituals
Gotta love it
Ow
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