Released: October 3, 2008

Featuring: Dame Grease French Montana

Producer: Dame Grease

[Produced by Dame Grease]

[Intro: French Montana]
Goon Music
Dame Grease, French Montana
Talk to 'em, baby

Uh-huh
(I know you like that)

[Hook: French Montana]
I walk like, talk like
Money, money, money
You can smell it in my breath when I talk
Goon Musik, we run New York

[Verse 1: French Montana]
Your resume, featherweight
Homie, let us demonstrate
Flows let 'em meditate
Got work in every state
Cut 'em up, bag 'em up, every shape, every day
Get money, fuck what a nigga say
What you see you never say
You call the law, Montana know to ball
Hot in my watch from Audemar
Leave 'em 6 feet, for my nigga Dame Grease
Then drive off, bumpin' Big Mike: Goon Musik no.3
A lotta weight, a lotta grind
Outta sight, outta mind
Homie fuck the other side
Never let the drama slide
I'm in the S550 with about five 50's
Of the sour, tell 'em cowards come get me
My shawty rock Dolce, cold shape
Body ridin' shotty in the Cadi
Hit the telly for a short stay
Call me 4 hours, take a shower, get dressed
Goon Musik, can't stop this thing of ours
We the best, Coke Boy!

[Hook: French Montana]
I walk like, talk like
Money, money, money
You can smell it in my breath when I talk
Goon Musik, we run New York
I walk like, talk like
Money, money, money
You can smell it in my breath when I talk
Goon Musik, we run New York

[Verse 2: Dame Grease]
Now poppa was a pimp, a player
Mom, it was a decent story(?)
Get that money everyday
Take your bitch, yeah we slaughter
Money that I'm stackin'
Always keep the chrome spinnin'
Rims right, oh so round
Now be my Goon chick for the night
She love the taste, I love the smell
Touch her where she never tell
Bend her well, bend her right
You her girlfriend for the night
Maxy got that Beamy B
Frenchy got that Cadi thing
Greasey love to switch them toys
Tommy guns, stack your funs
They call me Grease, there ain't no other
Swagger like a motherfucker
Pimp your mom, smack your brother
Even fuck your baby mother
Don't be rude gettin' that moolah
Got a cocky attitude
Lead this shit, love this life
Now ya pipin' homeboy's wife
It's on tonight, yeah heard me right
Must I say it again, layin' pipe to homeboy's wife
Here coochie tight, her coochie right
She drunk the mug, and then she give me keys to your ride

[Hook: French Montana]
I walk like, talk like
Money, money, money
You can smell it in my breath when I talk
Goon Musik, we run New York
I walk like, talk like
Money, money, money
You can smell it in my breath when I talk
Goon Musik, we run New York

[Verse 3: Max B]
(It's yo boy Biggavel, let's go)
Handsome man, sexy guy
First to the club then next we slide
Blow a couple Newports and next we be high
Dip the FBI, cuz they comin' fast
Bitch think love, all I want is her ass (that's all I want)
And that tempo, can it be oh so simple?
Feed me more, fix my hair
Look bitch, gimme gotchu there
You at the bottom now
Homes and the robe I got 'em now
Got that kid back from the time
She slipped me for them benjis, made it twerk
She's a devil in a miniskirt, mini purse
Benzs, Beamers, Jags, bitches fiendin' get me ass
Cuz I'm high, come and fuck this dick
One hit, mommy was in love with it (she loved)
Like drugs with it
Can't get stuff then I cut up a nick
That's that wave, Biggaveli I'm lovin' it (Oww oww)

[Hook: French Montana]
I walk like, talk like
Money, money, money
You can smell it in my breath when I talk
Goon Musik, we run New York
I walk like, talk like
Money, money, money
You can smell it in my breath when I talk
Goon Musik, we run New York

Max B

Wavy!

In the words of Roc

As far as his melodies… they were second to none as far as I was concerned. In my opinion, he was the street version of what Drake is—the fans can have Drake, but the streets have Max.