On Everything lyrics

by

Juelz Santana


[Hook: French Montana]
Count your wings, cut your losses
Some n*ggas win some and some in coffins
Boxed up in the pen [?]
Drinking all this Henn' got me nauseous
But I'm still that n*gga that you remember from the box
Made a couple M's and I bought a couple houses
Still got them shooters that be down from them profits
And they do it all for them dollars, on everything
That's on everything
And I'm on everything
Weed, pills, liquor, lean, n*gga I'm on everything
And them b*tches doing everything

[Verse 1: Belly]
Money on the counter, f*ck a money counter
She ain't about it, give a f*ck about her
Give her rosé, she don't want flowers
Turn a trump tower to an after hours
Every night, every night, we could do this on any night
This sh*t changed my life, I was always down and afraid of heights
Bought a penthouse, a few private flights
Now my mileage like, say a [?]
Now I'm walking round in my Gucci robe
And I'm f*cking hoes in my tighty whites, b*tch nighty night
I'm high as a kite, I'm Rowdy Piper, I'll probably pipe her like once or twice then goodbye for life
You'll probably wife her and pay in full like Mekhi Phifer
With a pound of rice, I'm cool as hell
I'm hot as [?] in a Coupe de Ville
I'm like dynamite, that's Snoop for real
My hoes down for life, you just around for life
[Hook: French Montana]
Count your wings, cut your losses
Some n*ggas win some and [?] some
Boxed up in the pen [?]
Drinking all this Henn' got me nauseous
But I'm still that n*gga that you remember from the box
Made a couple M's and I bought a couple houses
Still got them shooters that be down from them profits
And they do it all for them dollars, on everything
That's on everything
And I'm on everything
Weed, pills, liquor, lean, n*gga I'm on everything
And them b*tches doing everything

[Verse 2: French Montana]
Hundred round drums like a marching band
Got the trap jumping like [?]
b*tches bust it open when I pop a band
Frenchy Montana n*gga, hologram
My dog Muslim rocking Jesus piece
Caught a lick, broke down, hundred grand a piece
Lean got me slipping on that pus*y
Got ten mils for her cushion
Rich n*ggas don't spend a dollar
Strawberry shortcake n*ggas ain't want no problem
Talking black ops, helicopters
Hella' port, hella' choppers
[Hook: French Montana]
Count your wings, cut your losses
Some n*ggas win some and [?] some
Boxed up in the pen [?]
Drinking all this Henn' got me nauseous
But I'm still that n*gga that you remember from the box
Made a couple M's and I bought a couple houses
Still got them shooters that be down from them profits
And they do it all for them dollars, on everything
That's on everything
And I'm on everything
Weed, pills, liquor, lean, n*gga I'm on everything
And them b*tches doing everything
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