The Last Dance Lyrics by Montana of 300 is the latest English song from the album “Rap God”. The Last Dance lyrics were written by Montana of 300 while the song is produced by DJ Sharp.
The Last Dance Song Details:
| Song | The Last Dance |
| Album | Rap God |
| Singer | Montana of 300 |
| Produce by | DJ Sharp |
| Lyricist | Montana of 300 |
The Last Dance Lyrics
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 in a 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 see like it’s 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 markеt
No paint job when I spray and his car flip
Niggas thought they was cool, till I turned up and blеw got da airing that 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 with 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 streets to the beats, ain’t no fraud shit
I don’t change in the booth, I ain’t Clark Kent
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 charging
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 em 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 with the bull’ like a matador
This ain’t tennis I’m not with the back and forth
Bitch I’m known to throw down like I’m Crashing Bores
Had his homies surprised, once the fuck nigga died, they can see he was cappin’ like baggy shorts
Wear a vest when I shoot, blow this bitch like a flute, you’ll think I’m trying to summon the Dragonzord
I’m like Zach in all black, you’ll be covered in red, quick as Jason can yell out tyrannosaurus
Then go hop in some shit that you can’t afford
I’m saucin’, ya bitch wanna taste a nigga
They say Tony don’t go because without ya flow the rap game’s gonna die, dehydration nigga
I go hard for that paper so cut it out
Got the game in my hand like rock, paper, scissors
Your favorite rapper so basic nigga, benefit off of watching me, babysitter
I breath life in the game, this ain’t Sega nigga
Once they cop, they in shock, lyrics taze a nigga
My heart is cold it ain’t safe for niggas
Hell or heaven gon’ have to make space for niggas
Once I take this bitch out like we datin’ nigga
I’m gon’ dump, I do not mean break up wit her
Up this mac in face of a hatin’ nigga, put da clip to his temple, no taper nigga
Shells flippin’ like they sensei was Splinter, make ’em sleep in a week it’s a wait for niggas
Blew like magic, she kill for me, Lakers center
Don’t play games where I’m from, this ain’t Vegas nigga
Valet drivers steering while we load the 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 gon’ think it’s a smoking session
I ain’t no capper you know we steppin, walk the same when ain’t none of my soldiers present
This rapper keep a mag, 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 ring 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 the porch, I started off with a half of a zone
Once I ran it up I was trafficking drugs
Call it junk in da trunk, you know Pam and Jerome
Tony played in his pen 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 the minister, pat him down
I go hard in the paint, never backin’ down
With this rap shit I snap like a crocodile
With the pen he wise, but don’t think that mean I won’t wack a clown
Imma roll up and then smoke him, 40 blow buddy down like a pack a loud
I’m bussin this 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 or pretend, or its poppin’ again like its back in style
You better dip lower my shooters gon’ pull up and put a hole in ya cap and gown
I light up your block and come back around with two rockets I call em T-Mac and Yao
Play my cards and I run with a bad hand
Bitch I rap like every day my last chance
When I’m gone they gon’ say I’m bad man
Bitch I been on my bullshit, The Last Dance