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Jay Montana - To The Grave Lyrics

To The Grave Lyrics[Intro: Jay Montana]
Yeah
Yeah (Jay-Jay, you cooked this?)

[Chorus: Jay Montana]
All this money, all these hoes, all these foreigns, all these clothes
Hate to say it, we goin' fed, all these switches on these poles, yeah
I know how to play it, make a ten give me her soul
Krisses back on, the streets hot, it got my heart cold
Take my secret to the grave, bitch, you better not tell a soul
I ain't start off with a 'bow, stood at the store until it closed
I ain't start out with the ho, she in rotation with the bros
I been hittin' her for a month straight, she ain't fuckin' with her rose (Yeah, yeah)

[Verse 1: Jay Montana]
I've been hittin' her for a month straight, I ain't took her on a lunch date
Gary Payton, I just scored like twenty pounds on a Monday
I Celine, Celine, Celine, Celine my bitch like a runway
Straight from the mud, I rock the cleanest kicks, keep it on like Easter Sunday, uh
You say, you couldn't live without me, why you breathin'?
I was dranked out, in the projects sleep, California dreamin'
My cup dirty, not even dish detergent can clean it
She got a nice shade, her 'fit Rhude, her attitude the meanest
If King name was Morgan, he'd be a free man (Yeah)
If it wasn't for my past, I'd be Freebandz (Yeah)
Now I'm focused on my future like Double 0, I doubled up
Can fuck, but we can't cuddle up, I stick it in, she yellin', "Fuck"

[Chorus: Jay Montana & FattMack]
All this money, all these hoes, all these foreigns, all these clothes (Yeah)
Hate to say it, we goin' fed, all these switches on these poles, yeah
I know how to play it, make a ten give me her soul
Krisses back on, the streets hot, it got my heart cold
Take my secret to the grave, bitch, you better not tell a soul
I ain't start off with a 'bow, stood at the store until it closed
I ain't start out with the ho, she in rotation with the bros (Fatt)
I been hittin' her for a month straight, she ain't fuckin' with her rose

[Verse 2: FattMack]
Yeah, i ain't have no jacket, bitch, you left me in the cold
Ayy, I hit my bro up like, "What's crackin'?" I got Percs, he got the smoke
You know I always want you here, I'll keep you happy 'til we old
Damn, I'm sorry I hit below the belt, but you went lower, why you do that?
Yeah, all my fuckin' opps ain't nothin' but targets for to shoot at
Yeah, bae, I wasn't in love with none of these hoes, I was just runnin' through 'em
Yeah, I ain't never had this type of love, I don't know what I'm doin'
Yeah, we hit every city in the state, I take you with me tourin'
You know you my love, yeah
Every time you get mad, you go get drunk and hit the club, yeah
You left me lonely, now I'm best friends with the plug, yeah
And every time I hit his phone, he gon' pick up (Yeah), on God

[Chorus: Jay Montana]
All this money, all these hoes, all these foreigns, all these clothes (Yeah)
Hate to say it, we goin' fed, all these switches on these poles, yeah
I know how to play it, make a ten give me her soul
Krisses back on, the streets hot, it got my heart cold
Take my secret to the grave, bitch, you better not tell a soul
I ain't start off with a 'bow, stood at the store until it closed
I ain't start out with the ho, she in rotation with the bros
I been hittin' her for a month straight, she ain't fuckin' with her rose