Writing on the Wall (feat. Post Malone, Cardi B & Rvssian)

Montana
Posty
Okurr
(La-la-la-la, uuh)
Ayy, uh huh

From the block, now we're snippin' on the yachts like Somalians (uh-huh)
Egyptian cloak on my body, diamonds like 6iine, yeah (yeah)
Now we comin' through the back, we don't do it to the concierge (yeah, hey-hey)
Now that boy run fashion, call it FashionNova again (huh)
We started the wave, now everybody lookin' insane
Tell me how you won (woah)
Shorty buss' it down, give us the money, keep the crown
Tell me how you won
Been around the globe, and the globe
But we splashed ten O's of my net worth, yeah (huh)
Neck work, then the leg work (work)
We're the stars like the network (work, Montana)

You see the writing on the wall
Hold onto me and I'ma hold ya
You see the writing on the wall
I'll bring it back, bring it back, yeah

Got a lil' mama in my telephone, she jumpin' all up on me yo (ayy)
Hoes all in my section, I don't want 'em, keep them bitches, I'm like "Vamanos" (ayy, ayy, ayy)
We can work it out, lil' mama, all we need is just a little cardio (ayy)
Yeah, she the type of woman if we cannot do it, I will catch a body for (ooh yeah, yeah)
Call my accountant, bought my bitch new Beamer, she whip 7-Series, yeah (ooh yeah, yeah)
I'll spend whatever, girl, I do whatever to show you I'm serious (ooh yeah, yeah)
They're sound familiar, they just talkin' shit because they feel inferior
Ooh yeah, that's just how we go

You see the writing on the wall
Hold onto me and I'ma hold ya
You see the writing on the wall
I'll bring it back, bring it back, yeah

All the millions make me horny, Montana
Cardi, we the hottest out the South Bronx, yeah
Made me holla' for a dollar, got my makeup on your collar
You'll be callin' me tomorrow, yeah
And my diamonds like water, you'll be callin' me tomorrow
Then I'm just gettin' shorted (Uh huh)
Make you push a little harder, little faster, little deeper
'Fore I promise I be keepin' ya

Said it's all about the level up, booty like a Jell-O Cup
Bitches hella' jealous, wishin' it was them instead of us
I done got hot dog, relish, she ain't catchin' up
Gucci, Fendi, Prada, Balenciaga, I got Margiela, ah
Standin' ovation, the broad of the nation
Me and babe racin', the rage were adjacent
Wishin' we could take the rumors to the bank (to the bank)
Wouldn't have no more rumors out the safe (woo, woo)

But I'ma ball it like a napkin, tap it like it's Jaski
Hold the door for me, then pop me on the ass cheek
Ain't too rich to get it poppin' in the backseat
Next time you want another bitch, you better ask me, ah
I can see now that ass, you better take a picture now, shorty need me to spaz
And now we're rollin' down the freeway, talkin' 'bout a threeway
Startin' workin' out, but he gon' eat me on his cheat-day off

You see the writing on the wall
Hold onto me and I'ma hold ya
You see the writing on the wall
I'll bring it back, bring it back, yeah

La-la-la, la-la-la
La-la-la (okurr) ohh
La-la-la (what you want?), la-la-la
La-la-la, ohh



Credits
Writer(s): Amir Stevie B, Karim Kharbouch, Tarik Luke Johnston, Richard Iain Joshua Mcclashie, Stephen David Mcgregor, Carl Austin Rosen, Idan Kalai, Louis Russell Bell, Belcalis Almanzar, Austin Richard Post
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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