French Montana – Dirty Bronx Intro Lyrics


I guess it’s that time, huh?

[Chorus: Amber Run]
And I’ll use you as a warning sign (Uh)
That if you talk enough sense, then you’ll lose your mind (Nothing like it)
And I’ll use you as a focal point
So I don’t lose sight of what I want (Coke Boys, South Bronx)
And I moved further than I thought I could (Wave blues, bravo)
But I missed you more than I thought I would (It’s the intro, haan)
And I’ll use you as a warning sign (Mac & Cheese 5, ah)
That if you talk enough sense, then you’ll lose your mind (Coke Boy, baby, bye-bye-bye)
Get ready to rumble (Haan)

Ayy, ayy-ayy-ayy


Frontin’ like they gave me somethin’ when I had to takе it
Fresh out the hole, Christophеr Walken, back of the Lincoln
What about the time wearin’ the same clothes, stinkin’?
Hustlin’ with a visa, could have got deported, what you was thinkin’?
Haan, man, I had to do it
My mom’s welfare, my pops blew it

Tried to swallow my pride, but couldn’t chew it
I been through it, I couldn’t speak English fluent
Now she French kissin’ me, cribs, cars be the newest (What?)
Yeah, newest right? I remember when you used to slide
Now you on your Hollywood bullshit, right
Man, I was tryna buy the block, that Nipsey shit scared me
I lost Chinx, lost Max, but you don’t hear me (Whatever)
You know I turned the East up, I sold a hunnid million records
Yeah, you sold a hundred million, but they all features
Never that, most of my plaques, I’m the feature

Niggas barely go gold, I had to dominate
I’m the most streamed artist out my whole continent (Cap)
Whatever, dawg, you too light-skinned to be African
You from the South Bronx, stop Colin Kaep’in it
What was your last hit, dawg? You straight ass (For real though)
Mobstick, but I really started with Straight Cash
And that was ’08, every summer, different hit

Nigga, stop, Max put you on, you make me sick
What you got? Never, me and Fraud had New York minute
Mister cocaine city, street hits, I have plenty
But yeah, you right, New York never played my record
I went down South, made Choppa Down, made ’em respect it (I remember)
And Chinx is way better than you
Yeah, he was better than me, he was my prodigy
Dawg, he was supposed to me
And how you pullin’ all these Hollywood hoes? I know you trickin’, right?
I’m the dirty Bronx nigga, get it right

Related Articles

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Back to top button