French Montana's 'Writing on the Wall' Lyrics, Feat. Post Malone, Cardi B & Rvssian

The dream team came together and showed off their respective talents: Montana’s club-worthy lines interspersed with references to his African homeland, Posty’s suave singing and Cardi’s robust rap delivery, all over Jamaican producer Rvssian’s Latin flare.

“Writing on the Wall” is already inscribed in the track list of Montana’s self-titled forthcoming album Montana, which is set for an unspecified November release.

Check out the lyrics and larger-than-life music video below.

Montana
Posty (haaan)
Okurr

From the block, now we snipin’ on the yachts like Somalians (uh-huh)
Egyptian cloth on my body, diamonds like 6ix9ine hair (hair)
And we comin’ through the back, we don’t go to the concierge
Now that boy run fashion, Cardi in that Fashion Nova gear (haan)
We started the wave, now everybody lookin’ the same
Tell me how you want it (whoa)
Shorty buss’ it down, give us the money, keep the crown
Tell me how you want it
I been around the globe in the Global Express
Ten O’s in my net worth, yeah (haan)
Neck work, then the leg work (work)
We’re the stars like the network (Montana)

You see the writing on the wall
Hold onto me and I’ma hold you
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, kick them bitches out 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 spend whatever, girl, I do whatever to show you I’m serious (ooh yeah, yeah)
That 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 you
You see the writing on the wall
I’ll bring it back, bring it back, yeah

All the millions make ’em 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 them dress gettin’ shorter (uh huh)
Make you push a little harder, little faster, little deeper (skrr skrr)
‘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 Wraiths, we adjacent
Wish that we could take them rumors to the bank (to the bank)
We don’t have no more room inside the safe (woo, woo)
But I’ma ball it like an athlete, tap it like it’s jazz-feet
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
Ike and Tina that ass, you better take a bitch to Nordstrom and Nieman as fast
And now we’re rollin’ down the freeway, talkin’ ’bout a threeway
Started 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 you
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
 

Lyrics licensed & provided by LyricFind

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Written by: Karik Kharbouch, Austin Post, Belcalis Almanzar, Tarik Johnston





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