[Intro: French Montana]
Bryson, what up?
You know what it is when you hear that, "Haan?"
My hundreds is dreaded up, you heard?
[Chorus: Bryson Tiller]
Hundreds coming in, too many fake friends
Ran me up some millions, tryna run 'em up times ten
Where should I begin?
[Verse 1: Bryson Tiller]
If I start right here, nah, that wouldn’t tell enough
They can't get enough
Of talkin' down on me, yeah, they stuck
Talkin’ down, but I'm headed up
Been hard workin', head dreaded up
Them hundreds comin', hmm, braided up
I'm the one that can't say it enough
I be done when I said enough
They keep sayin' we done
No Speed Racer, we run shit
I'ma jog they memories, ’member back when we had fun with it?
No cheapskates, we love dishin’ out love to the ones comin' up
If you got somethin’, nigga, run it up
Drop somethin', nigga, run it up
Ah-ha, know they feel where I'm comin' from
Second place, we runnin’ from
There's better ways and they jumped the gun
Fuck these niggas, I just wanna see the money come, yeah
[Chorus: Bryson Tiller & French Montana]
Hundreds coming in (In), too many fake friends (In)
Ran me up some millions, tryna run 'em up times ten (Yeah)
Where should I begin?
Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah
Hundreds coming in, too many fake friends
Ran me up some millions, tryna run 'em up times ten
Where should I begin? (Montana, where should I begin? Ayy, ayy)
[Verse 2: French Montana]
Only thing we had before gettin' rich was fake (Haan?)
Anything you lose by bein' real is fake (Haan?)
It's what you maintain, never what you make (Ah)
'Cause even the garbage can gon' get a steak (Haan?)
Shorty tryna slide, but I'm on a mission (Mission)
A lot of things broke my heart, but they fixed my vision (Woo)
Bein' fake is normal, keep it real surprise me
Stopped doin' favors for 'em, now they switchin' sides (Sides)
People raised on love, they'll do anything for you (For you)
People raised on survival, they'll do anything to you (Haan?)
Shorty bad, countin' money, got her own bag
Bad bitches bring bad bitches, a known fact (Haan?)
You know she jumpin' in, all this money comin' in (Haan?)
You know she jumpin' in, can't be mad she tryna win
[Chorus: Bryson Tiller]
Hundreds coming in (In), too many fake friends (In)
Ran me up some millions, tryna run 'em up times ten (Yeah)
Where should I begin?
Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah
Hundreds coming in, too many fake friends
Ran me up some millions, tryna run 'em up times ten
Where should I begin?
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