LYRICFLUENT
Too Late Lyrics by French Montana French Montana , Jim Jones
Below, you will find the lyrics for Too Late by French Montana.
Dipset, Coke Boys
Somethin' epic, you know?
French, what up? BX, what up?
Harlem, what's bangin'?
Lost in the fog, these hollow hills
Blood runnin' hot, night chills
So long and lost, are you missin' me?
Is it too late to come on home?
Is it too late to come on home?
Can the city forgive? I hear it's a sad song
Through the fire, right through the fall
Big bag like Santa Claus
New sauce for the summer sauce
Marchin' band, we the drummer boys
And tell the crib I'm on the way back
Dallach to my goals, took the plane back
And they prayed he ain't came back
All Rocky like A$AP
Indecisive, persuasive, face lift
Top down, ageless, timeless, stone age
Runnin' out of patience, servin' up the patients
No navigation, grind like bad brakes
Eatin' lobster with the crabs, that's the bad taste
Same niggas on the roster from the bad days
Niggas on the rat race
Same niggas laughin' at us started laughin' with us
'Cause all the slammed doors turned to Lamb' Porsches
Is it too late to come on home?
Is it too late to come on home?
Can the city forgive? I hear it's a sad song
Is it too late to come on home
If nobody died then it's not a beef
Contrary to the lies, we all got beliefs
Still keep it in my rider or my boxer briefs
Hood nigga got them yachts dockin' by the beach
They still treat me like a god when I'm in the H
Cut lawyers that eat the charge like a dinner plate
We was just duckin' them charges on the interstate
Watch fifty, that's an extra twenty large in the face
We both gettin' money, that is not the issue
I'm tryin' to find my woosa like some chakra crystals
Still hit a nigga with a TEC, but I ain't got a whistle
Slide through the wake, make sure your mom's get a box of tissue
We gon' hit whoever rockin' with you
Catch your ass in Houston, shoot you, make sure you got rockets with you
We come home and get a welcomin' committee
When you fuck niggas go home you ain't welcomed in your city, but
Is it too late
To come on home?
Is it too late
To come on home?
Can the city forgive? I hear it's a sad song
Is it too late to come on home?
They told me if you gettin' money then it shouldn't be able to fit in your pocket, nigga
Ha, my money can't fit in a bag so what type of bag you niggas is gettin'?
We drinkin' Ace and Ciroc all night, you heard
Ha, I been a bad boy, tell Diddy
I been sellin' that Danity Kane to get that dirty money you heard me, money?
French, what's up? BX, Harlem
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