(Intro – French Montana)
Montana, Breezy, you know what it is when you hear that haa
(Verse 1 – Chris Brown)
Don’t you open up that window
Chrome 45. with that extendo
Off that batch of molly, pu***, all we know
In that Lamborghini, how fast does your Rarri go?
All my ni**as tripping, you might catch a body flow
She pu**y popping I’mma tip her, that’s the way I roll
Told me thots are crazy, told her I’ve been here before
Her man came home and now I’m creeping out that window
I ain’t with that bling it’s a sneak in, she just wanna twerk it on a weekend
I’m f**king with a bad Puerto Rican, pu**y so wet, my d**k a ten like the deep end
We in Las Vegas so you know we never sleeping
100 bottles and you know how slump my weed is
(Verse 2 – French Montana)
Go to live LIV on Sunday
Wake up and go to court on Monday
I just met an actress this week
She came through the crib with six freaks
I’ve been trapping since fifteen
Talking back when bricks was fifteen
Don’t you open up that window
I don’t chase bi**hes, I just pimp hoes
Talking bout that brown bag is all we know
Hollywood b**ches always wanna smoke
I just made 3 mil this week
In the streets, Montana hotter than fish grease
All the bi**hes in my face, paparazzis taking pictures
That’s that Californiacation, I just need my medication
Talking reggie for the patiences, sipping yellow, purple, Lakers
Got green and blue faces, talking crib, 50 acres, ooh
Call up your bi**hes, come f**k with the squad
All of my ni**as, we roll like the mob
Tell em broke ni**as don’t get on ya job
B**ch wanna pillow talk, working a job
Hit up Miami, woke up in Atlanta
Hop out the Porshe and I jump the Phantom
Hop off your bi**h and I pose for the camera
You ni**as can’t stand us
She up and let us through that window
Clip bottles long as a Lambo
I’m talking brown bags is all we now
Them Hollywood b**ches wanna smoke
