Too Late
Too Late

French Montana ft. Jim Jones - Too Late Lyrics

5
Too Late Music Video

Too Late Lyrics

Dipset, Coke Boys
Somethin' epic, you know?
French, what up? BX, what up?
Harlem, what's bangin'?

Lost in the fog, these hollow hills (haha)
Blood runnin' hot, night chills (there's power in we)
So long and lost, are you missin' me? (You gettin' money or lookin' for me huh? Huh?)
Is it too late to come on home? (Huh?)
Is it too late to come on home?
Can the city forgive? (Holla at me) I hear it's a sad song(uh)

Through the fire, right through the fall
Big bag like Santa Claus
New sauce for the summer sauce
Marchin' band, we the drummer boys
And tell the crib I'm on the way back
Dallach to my goals, took the plane back
And they prayed he ain't came back
All Rocky like A$AP
Indecisive, persuasive, face lift
Top down, ageless, timeless, stone age
Runnin' out of patience, servin' up the patients
No navigation, grind like bad brakes
Eatin' lobster with the crabs, that's the bad taste
Same niggas on the roster from the bad days
Niggas on the rat race
Same niggas laughin' at us started laughin' with us
'Cause all the slammed doors turned to Lamb' Porsches

Is it too late to come on home?
Is it too late to come on home?
Can the city forgive? I hear it's a sad song
Is it too late to come on home
(It's never too late to come home for a gangsta)

Uh (Capo)
If nobody died then it's not a beef (facts)
Contrary to the lies, we all got beliefs (As-salamu Alaykum)
Still keep it in my rider or my boxer briefs (loaded)
Hood nigga got them yachts dockin' by the beach (Elly, what up?)
They still treat me like a god when I'm in the H (Harlem)
Cut lawyers that eat the charge like a dinner plate (Yanna)
We was just duckin' them charges on the interstate (facts)
Watch fifty, that's an extra twenty large in the face
We both gettin' money, that is not the issue (you hear me?)
I'm tryin' to find my woosa like some chakra crystals (pray for me)
Still hit a nigga with a TEC, but I ain't got a whistle
Slide through the wake, make sure your mom's get a box of tissue (Kleenex)
We gon' hit whoever rockin' with you (who?)
Catch your ass in Houston, shoot you, make sure you got rockets with you (Nero, what up?)
We come home and get a welcomin' committee
When you fuck niggas go home you ain't welcomed in your city, but (nigga)

Is it too late (too late for what?)
To come on home?
(Nigga, when I show up late I'm right on time)
Is it too late (better late than never)
To come on home? (You heard?)
Can the city forgive? I hear it's a sad song
Is it too late to come on home? (Haha)
(Is it too late?)

They told me if you gettin' money then it shouldn't be able to fit in your pocket, nigga
Ha, my money can't fit in a bag so what type of bag you niggas is gettin'?
We drinkin' Ace and Ciroc all night, you heard/
Ha, I been a bad boy, tell Diddy
I been sellin' that Danity Kane to get that dirty money you heard me, money?
French, what's up? BX, Harlem

Writer(s): Kharim Kharbouch, Joseph Guillermo Jones II
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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