Given the rarity of the official "french-montana-excuse-my-french-zip," you have a few options:
Because of the high resale value (often ranging from $150 to $400 depending on condition), the market is flooded with fakes. If you are buying one, here is your authentication checklist:
By the time 2013 rolled around, the anticipation for his official debut was at a fever pitch. He had already conquered the radio with "Shot Caller" and "Pop That," leaving fans clamoring for a cohesive body of work. The album had been delayed multiple times, pushed back by sample clearances and label politics. french-montana-excuse-my-french-zip
“French Montana. Excuse my French. Zip.” I pulled out my phone. “Zip as in ZIP code. As in a location. ‘Excuse my French’ is a phrase people say after swearing. French Montana is from Morocco, but he blew up in the Bronx. What’s the Bronx ZIP code?”
Attached was a screenshot: a grainy, late-night photo of a small, unmarked zipper pouch. Next to it, a single tracklist on a crumpled piece of notebook paper. At the top, scrawled in red ink: French Montana – Excuse My French (Unreleased Zip – OG Press Kit). The album had been delayed multiple times, pushed
While the singles aimed for the charts, the album cuts aimed for the streets. Tracks like "Paranoid" (featuring a standout verse from Rick Ross) and "Bust It Open" maintained the grit that his core fanbase
We never leaked it. Kael archived it on a hard drive labeled “DO NOT OPEN – 2013.” Sometimes, late at night, I open it just to listen to track twelve—a ghost track not on the final album. French speaks over a minimalist synth. He’s talking about his uncle’s store in the Bronx. About translating for his mom at the clinic. About how “excuse my French” was always a lie—because it wasn’t French they were excusing. It was his accent. His hustle. His zip code. I looked at the phrase again
Then it hit me.
He shrugged and handed me the keyboard. I typed slowly, like I was decoding a tomb: frenchmontanaexcusemyfrenchzip.
Then there was the star power. Excuse My French is arguably one of the most feature-heavy debut albums in recent memory, but unlike many projects where features feel forced, here they felt like family reunions.
But I didn’t leave. I looked at the phrase again, written on a napkin. french-montana-excuse-my-french-zip. The hyphens bothered me. Why hyphens? Why not underscores or spaces? And why “zip” at the end? It was redundant—the file was already a zip.