Trinidad James – All Gold Everything (French Montana Remix) Lyrics


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This shit sound like 007 on N64 and shit (Haaan!)
Aye, aye Montana
Trinidad, what up?

Gold all in my watch
Don't believe just watch
Nigga, nigga, nigga
Don't believe me just watch
Don't believe me just watch
Nigga, nigga, nigga
Don't believe me just watch
Don't believe me just watch
Gold all in my chain
Gold all in my ring
Gold all in my watch
Don't believe me just watch

[Verse 1: French Montana]
Cribs all in my chain
Cars all in my ring

All them bad bitches watchin'
Nigga, nigga, is it me or my watch?
Man, I pull up in the bank, 2-liter full of drank
Shaquille up in the paint, a dealer on my link
I popped the molly, can't sleep
I popped the molly, can't eat
Bad batch my nigga
Don't pass that shit to me
I'm high my nigga
Stop talkin' that shit to me

I be gettin' to the money, give a fuck about a hater
I be rollin' up the OG in paper like a Taylor Gang
Getting' money my nigga
Fuck them niggas that's hatin'
It's Montana, my nigga
We don't count money, we weigh it


[Verse 2: Trinidad James]
This ain't for no fuck nigga
If you a real nigga then fuck with me
This one for the hood niggas
Hipster bitches that shop at Lenox
Dark skinned, light skinned, Asian and White women
Hypebeasts we know aboutchea'
Don't buy shoes unless they popula'
For the hoes, my nigga
That's pussy popping at Magic City
Got that strong, my nigga
Then come match that shit with me
Smoking mid, my nigga
Then don't pass that shit to me
This one for my niggas
And bitches bout that money, (Cash Out)
Gotta love, Chesire Bridge
Them bad hoes at Onyx
I don't fuck with no snitches
So don't tell me who telling
This one for them colleges
Them bad hoes at Spelman
Shout out to them freshmen
On Instagram straight flexin'
Popped a molly, I'm sweating woo
Popped a molly, I'm sweating woo
Momma always told me, boy count your blessings
In God I Trust, so I kept counting them Franklins
I'm too fly, you know this
Lemme give your ass a checklist
One gold watch, two gold chains
Six gold rings, it's nothing, God Dayum
OG Jordans, them high socks
No shirt on, I'm stunting, okay
And this song for them fuck niggas
Who hating on you this summer, fuck em
Talk shit behind your back
But won't say shit in public, fuck em

[Original Hook]

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