French Montana, John Legend, Rick Ross — Touch The Sky

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Текст French Montana, John Legend, Rick Ross — Touch The Sky

Fresh out the gate
We gon’ flood ’em
You know what it is (Hitmaka)
It’s that Morrocan Sahara desert, where the ocean at? (Sound)
Montana (Romano)
Turn it up ’til you can’t turn (Han, ayy)

I’m past different (Different), five bitches, I Saks Fifth ’em
They smoke weed but that Morrocan hash different (Ha)
Glass box to glass whippin’ (Skrrt)
One of one bag different
Born Muslim but the tag Christian
Golden beach mansion (Mansion)
2002, Steve Francis
Too hard for your weak glances
They tried to break the bond like Will and Jada (Jada)
And when they drop the bond, I’ma free the Wave up (Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh)
I cop crabs by the kilometers, cruisin’ through Medina (Medina)
Black hawk risin’ like the phoenix (The phoenix)
Six feet, it don’t get more under
’Til then glass floors with the pitbulls under
Competition full of tricks and bundles (Tricks and bundles)
That’s a suckas sport (Sport)
Couldn’t beat us in the streets, so they won in court (Court)
Don’t get me started (Started)
My crib decarted (Decarted)
From New York but ain’t no squares in my garden (Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh), ha

Yeah, don’t it feel like (Like)
The rain’s on my side (Side)
’Cause when it feels right (Right)
My hands touch the sky (Sky)
Pardon my high (High)
Pardon the mood (Mood)
Pardon while I touch the sky
Pardon my high (High)
Pardon the mood (Mood, Double M)
Pardon my vibe (The Greatest, M-M-Maybach Music)

Meditate back on these clowns, my head in the clouds
Whoever did me foul, sure regrettin’ now (Huh)
I play the music loud when I’m dickin’ her down
I decorate the crib, they call it nostalgia (Oh)
I bet the way I live, they find it arousin’
It is what it is, impeccable housin’
Alkaline water blue champagne (Huh)
Not with the jake, I’m with a duffel on my campaign (Ha)
Fast money still I suffer from my lack of patience
Back to basics, broke niggas vaccinations
Me and French, Hall of Fame, comin’ off the bench (What?)
A Richard Millie, new McLaren and the baddest bitch (Huh)
My doors butterfly for the summertime (The Biggest)
Top floor of the [?] when she one of mine (Ooh)
The lobsters, ravioli and that’s for the guys (Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah)
That’s the sunset, my hitters on the rise

Yeah, don’t it feel like (Like)
The rain’s on my side (Side)
‘Cause when it feels right (Right)
My hands touch the sky (Sky)
Pardon my high (High)
Pardon the mood (Mood)
Pardon while I touch the sky
Pardon my high (High)
Pardon the mood (Mood)
Pardon my vibe (Vibe)

Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
It feel good, don’t it?
Oh-oh, oh, ooh-woah
Yeah, it feel good, don’t it?
Don’t it feel like
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh