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French Montana

Goin In 4 The Kill

 

Goin In 4 The Kill

(album: Coke Boys Tour - 2010)


I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh, I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand
I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh, I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand

Ya'll niggas need a co-sign; homie, I'm the gold mine
Montana Johnson when it's showtime
Nigga pass the ball, make a call; watch me go in for the kill
I was stunting on you corny niggas way before the deal
Fast money, fucking hoes, flipping work; call me flip
Rap niggas all diesel, homie; probably a script
See the black van packed up; ski-masks, black gloves
Four niggas mashed up, get a nigga wrapped up
I did it like a boss, fuck a hand-out
Room full of centers, I'm a stand-out
Now I gave 'em no choice; got the coke-boy shit planned out
Hundred-fifty Spider all tanned out; Montana (Montana)

I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh, I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand
I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh, I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand

Listen, for all my dope-boys up over them pots mixing
New [?] on the block chasing hot vixens
Getting money, right? Well do your thing, shorty
The drama messy, I send some niggas to clean for me
They leave the scene spotless; I like my V's topless
The hoes talk about me, see I'm the trending topic
See the riot's that gang, and ya'll know that
That break it up and give it to the strip, you know I'm on that
I'm sticking to the format
Never catch him slipping, like I'm sticking to the floor-mat
So these niggas could fall back
I toss some money in the sky and watch it trickle down
Came a long way from the P's; take a look at me now

I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh, I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand
I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh, I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand

Keys to the Beamer; Beamie take the top off
Did ya'll watch the fumes come out like a genie?
That's the Sour; power can't kill me, bitch
Love when I'm high, cause my eyes look dreamy
Four-fifth chrome, that'll leave your dome steamy
Custom-made Lenscrafters still couldn't see me
Flip, pimp, and crack dough
I roll the O, you pop the Ex; tick-tack-toe
Send my condolence, give him hope for best wishes
They hate cause they bitches; ride my stick like witches
Nowadays niggas fraudulent, frontin'; all gimmicks
In the game they all the same; might as well get a mimic
Order to your dog, UPS with deliverance
My man in the can getting green like spinach
We'll be like Popeye the sailorman
Yeah, Cheeze ya dealing man
They spinning on the top, like ceiling fans

I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh, I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand
I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh, I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand

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