Stevie Crooks – Monte Cristo Lyrics

[Verse 1]
The fresh prince of Bel Air with golden plated chairs
Marble floors, glass doors, corkscrew stairs
Sturgeon Caviar with the skinny tie
Roman pillar, Scarface tubs, “fly pelican fly”
A saint can see I’m one hell of a guy
Can’t wait to see my niggas on, so givin’ up never will I
Test drive in the ‘Rrari how that pedal will glide
Through the old streets I learned to ride a bike on
Dolomite, I keep my game strong
Darryl Dawkins rim killer
You playas talking but notice that its “game on”
Blade drawn… the count of Monte Cristo
Revenge is better served cold, look at the wrist though
Princess cutteries, lovely precise with the dia-mond
Chain dance like Ciara, but life from Leone
Motel hideouts windows with red neon
Sin city scenery, the streets done got a piece of me
Took away the peace in me, so I took the piece to eat
The only way I know, stick up kid with the flow
Gimme… Your ears, eyes and soul
Take a dip in this richess… Fasho


[Verse 2]
(Yeah, we still on nigga)
The cashmere killer
Violins and vanilla
River full of liquor
Luchini pourin’ out the picture
Bars from California
To foreign bars in Barcelona
Park the Lotus, f*ck a chauffeur
Runnin’ every hater over
Momma made a soldier
Not afraid to pull from out the holster
La Cosa Nostra hustle like he Sosa
Alpo on the kawasaki, wheelie with the toaster
Sittin’ on my balcony pettin’ my pet vulture
Robe like I’m Ghost Dog
Or Ali from the shoulder throwin’ ghost punches
Lights out, it’s game over
Y’all so pathetic, wastin’ time comparin’
While my verses be preparin’ me to watch a new McLaren
It’s the future that I’m sharin’, but my present’s not far
Look at me I’ll be a star, this is not about a car
This is ’bout a gift from God
Look at me shinin’
With twins in the hallway… Drinkin’ Jack, I am
Not y’all… word

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