"Montreux" lyrics

Kush smoke
Money, clothes, hoes
Hurry up before that elevator door close
This that 1980 Marvin Gaye live at the Montreux
Stars in the audience Al Jarreau in the third row
Parental guardian to this art for it's my baby
Lazy eye, though wise folk try to play me, I spot you points
I prove with my every move
Right from the beginnin' I was right and that was very crude
This is what I know
Make a fool, out of you, if we were to duel
And a hall player playin' pool
Renegade bitches choose
Word to Max Jule
Drop jewels, diamonds different hues
Type of shit I like to do
Orange leather in my coupe
Carrot soup
My women ball, word to Sheryl Swoopes
Minus the hoop
She fell through
Fell in love with the blue dream
And the things she can't have
Now she lookin' down like she trynna use a Ipad
Pro tools confiscated as evidence by the crime
Lab spyin', ain't even have to do em' like that
Knife work on the track
Many ya' cut and slash
At the neck like a sash
Blood on my hands, me and my killin' bag
Raw shit, Kill a gram
High spinnin' ceilin' fan
You ain't neva seen a man, till' you seen the man
Raw shit, Kill a gram
High spinnin' ceilin' fan
You ain't neva seen a man, till' you seen the man
Fool