Lyrics of 'The Last Dance' by Montana of 300
The Last Dance is a song by Montana of 300 whose lyrics have countless searches, so we decided it deserves its place on this website, along with many other song lyrics that internet users want to know.
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Niggas actin' like I ain't Mike in this bitch
Way way way way way ahead of the game
Untouchable
Go watch how I blitz for my brothers
Every once and while niggas start shit
They say they want Montana from Chiraq, well then fuck it lets give em that hard shit
All black when I gear up no parking
Like a crutch the stick under my armpit
I keep something on deck like a card trick
Tell da opps come and C like its Charlotte
You see me in da hood, grippin' that metal, ain't no jumper cables I spark shit
I'll put holes in the cart that he pushing and turn it to red he ain't shoppin' at target
Check him out take his ass off the market
No paint job when I spray and his car flip
Niggas thought they was cool, till I turned up and blew got da airing dat whip like the car vent
Threw up blood in his whip like he gang bang, threw up blood in his whip call it carsick
Like mechanics I come wit them tools, made him pay like he needed his car fixed
Do you dirty in traffic, or you'll see this savage inside of your house or apartment
No Nintendo I'm blowing that cartridge
That ain't cranberry sauce on his carpet
From the beats to the streets ain't no freudin' shit
I don't change in the booth I ain't claw-ken
I'm Mike Jordan you niggas can't guard this
I spit crack I might be on the narcs list
Bitch I been on my grind, I'm who they will come find just to light up that green like a garden
While you niggas was broke, I was movin' that dro, had the plug on the phone like its charger
You going need guns, a shield and a sword
Rambo Judah plus Jesus Christ and the lord
Way more heat than Miami don't play wit my family, cause if I can't find you I'm whackin' yours
50 up in my clip light him up like a stick
Give it to him I do not mean pass the torch
What the fuck would you question my savage for
I'm wit the bull like a matador
This ain't tennis I'm not wit the back and forth
Botch I'm known to throw down like I'm Crashing Bores
Had his homies surprised once the fuck nigga die, they can tell he was cappin' like baggy shorts
Wear a vest when I shot, blow this bitch like flute you'll think I'm trying to summon Dragon Zord
I'm like Zach in all black, you'll be covered in red, quick as Jason can yell out tyrannosaurus
Then go hop in shit that you can't afford
I'm saucin', ya bitch wanna taste a nigga
They say tony don't go because wit out ya flow the games gonna die dehydration nigga
I go hard for that paper so cut it out
Got da game in my hand like rock, paper, scissors
Ya favorite rapper so basic nigga, benefit off watching me babysitter
I breath life in da game, dis ain't saga nigga, once they cop, they in shock like they tase a nigga
My heart is cold it ain't safe for niggas
Hell or haven going have to make space for niggas
Once I take this botch out like we datin' nigga
I'm going dump I do not mean break up wit her
Up this mac in face of hatin' nigga, put da clip to his temple no taper nigga
Shots flippin' like they sensi' was splinter, make em sleep in a week it's a wait for niggas
Blew like magic, she kill fa me Lakers center
Don't play games where I'm from this ain't Vagas nigga
Valet drivers steering while we load da weapons
On my way, they don't know they so close to heaven
Like a blunt I roll up everyone in this bitch, takin' hits you going think it's a smoking session
I ain't no kappa you know we steppin', walk the same when ain't none of my solders present
This rapper keep a mac never no protection, she always on my dick but ain't no obsession
Handle and chrome, red light on that bitch like da camera was on
Kicked in some doors I done ran in some homes
Then let that bitch like don't answer the phone
Momma off crack, tell me go in the back
Fist balled like Thanos a hand full of stones
Felt like she wasn't on the planet I'm on
See parents get money but managed it wrong
Age 17 I jumped off of da porch, I started off wit a half of a zone
Once I ran it up I was trafficking drugs
Call junk in da trunk you know pam and Jarome
Tony played in his pin while I packaged pounds
Tryna grind so my kids never have to frown
40 Cal I made sure I kept that around
So they can't say they didn't have they dad around
I was not lackin' then, I ain't lackin' now
Bitch I move like da minister, pat him down
I go hard in da paint, never backin' down
Wit this rap shit I snap like a crocodile
Wit the pen he wise, but don't think that mean I won't wack a clow
I'ma roll up and then smoke him, 40 blow buddy down like a pack a loud
I'm bussin dis bitch like her tubes tied, or like she told me she can't have a child
Message to all his friends, don't act tough for pretend, or its poppin' again like its back in style
You betta dip lower my shooters going pull up and put a hole in ya cap and gown
I light up your block and come back around wit two rockets I call em T-Mac and Yao
Play my cards and I run wit a bad hand, bitch I rap like every day my last chance
When I'm gone they going say I'm bad man, bitch I been on my bullshit da last dance
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Otras canciones de Montana of 300
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