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this the reason - a$ap rocky & french montana lyrics

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[intro: a$ap rocky]
rick, sl!ck, sl!ck, rick
uh, uh, ayy
rick, sl!ck, sl!ck, sl!ck, rick
uh
yeah, i’m ricky, yeah, i’m ricky, sh-t
yeah

[verse 1: a$ap rocky]
this the reason why your girl walkin’ bow-legged
this the reason why them hoes goin’ both ways
this the reason why she always comin’ home late
see you in her recent, call, but it don’t ring, don’t ring
flacko jodye, frenchy, frenchy, how they throw me
c-cky poppi, copy, got it all upon my lonley
n-ggas ’round their homies, show me ‘lil woadie
brodie ’bout to bus’ a forty, never run up on me
i ain’t sorry, no, n-ggas know how the story go

[verse 2: french montana]
one time for my n-gga, shawty lo
hunnid chains on, twenty-four karat gold
shawty blow, feds nap, now it’s time to go
talk about me and you, your momma and your cosuin too
we pullin’ up, slammin’ on doors
c0ke boyz and them a$ap boys (ayy, ayy, ayy)
i’m on a bean, i was on the corner servin’ fiends, now
now, i’m in a foreign lookin’ clean now, seen, hah
money make n-ggas turn to fiends, fiends, hah
raggin’ all them b-tches used to dream about, see how
we the reason why them b-tches walkin’ bow-legged
we the reason, if we beefin’, lookin’ both ways
when you get to this paper, man, they all hate
that’s the reason why i rock my shoes with no lace, hah

[verse 3: a$ap rocky]
get it, rick it, big sh-t, misfit
got my d-ck tip sucked, sucked, hah
makin’ big sh-t, switch lanes, [?]
when the wrist fl!ck, what’s up, what the f-ck?
uh, big body n-gga, flacko jodye, man
ever since a little woadie showed the [?]
listenin’ to prince, i’m on the purple rain
listen rakim, i want a golden chain
sl!ck rick got the eyepatch, i match
now i got the new flatscreen and ipads

[verse 4: french montana]
let my side b-tch do my income tax
threw me in the jungle, came back with a lion on my back
we supplyin’ all of that, they be dyin’ over there
took a couple losses, but we ain’t cryin’ over that
this my [?] over that, i got racks over there
i ain’t talkin’ laptops, we got macs over there
we be ridin’ through the jungle, we was firin’ with them bullets
we be climbin’ up a ladder, we be ridin’ when we rumble
cash cold from the freezer, got some hoes in the [?]
the model was a drug dealer, the [?] was a priest, hah

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