Red Bottoms

(Yea! Uh)

My bitch addicted to red bottoms (red bottoms!)

Point him out, my youngin head shot him (prrrrr!)

Come from the block, now we're headlining (the block!)

My phone off, they think the Feds got him (hello?)

My bitch addicted to red bottoms (uh!)

Point him out, my youngin head shot him (you see him!)

Come from the block, now we're headlining (from the block!)

My phone off, they think the Feds got him (ah!)

They think the Feds got him

My phone off, they think the Feds got him

My bitch addicted to red bottoms (aww yea!)

Point him out, my youngin head shot him (pow!)

They think the Feds got him

My phone off, they think the Feds got him (the Feds got him)

Come from the block, now we're headlining (from the block!)

Point him out, my youngin head shot him

Like Earl Manigault, the block's jumping

You was soft, getting money made you stop pumping (stop that, my nigga)

Quarter pound, broke it down, I supply onions (some Os!)

They ’ll never have your back, probably die fronting

Me and Rico, that’s a kilo! (Rico!)

Sliding through The Heights, me, Gutter, Mac and Lethal (uh)

Black Balenciagas, hundred dollars on the free throw

Summertime indictment, get excited, I’m ‘a reload {rrraaa!)

You ain’t never came up in the gutter

Everybody selling butter and them snitches undercover (uh!)

Locos trapping out of {bleep} spot on the DS

It don’t matter, summer, spring or winter, nigga we fresh

Got a couple dollars, told my jeweler I’m ‘a holler

Radio copped the Impala, make my pound, like he eat's next

Yacht Master Rollie, my youngins’ll take your arm for it

Passed it to my shooter, he ain’t even have to call for it

That money, nigga we all for it

Any gun you want on deck, just make a call for it (any gun!)

On the block, posted like a small forward (posted!)

I be exciting my women, your bitches all bored (hah!)

We was into moving powder like a chalkboard {sniff}

I’m trying to park Maseratis while you park Fords (errrr!)

You was cutting up your work, we gave 'em all raw

Knocking off this pack of Molly, rocking Tom Fords (ah!)

My bitch addicted to red bottoms (red bottoms!)

Point him out, my youngin head shot him (prrrrr!)

Come from the block, now we're headlining (from the block!)

My phone off, they think the Feds got him (hello?)

My bitch addicted to red bottoms (Christians!)

Point him out, my youngin head shot him (head shot!)

Come from the block, now we're headlining (Eastside!)

My phone off, they think the Feds got him (no!)

They think the Feds got him

My phone off, they think the Feds got him

My bitch addicted to red bottoms (bottoms!)

Point him out, my youngin head shot him (prrrrrrr!)

They think the Feds got him (no!)

My phone off, they think the Feds got him

Come from the block, now we're headlining (from the block!)

Point him out, my youngin head shot him (blah!)

I’ve seen that angel dust leave the block naked (butt naked!)

Surround sound through your town, drop's vibrating (ugh!)

I was born with it, you ain’t got it, pro'ly die hating (hah!)

Summer time, Lenox Ave, pro'ly tri-state him (uptown!)

Them bitches wanna fuck, I’m thinking “why date 'em?” (why?)

Pounds flip, I’m with my brown bitch, so now I laid the (uh!)

Penthouse up in the clouds, shit's skyscraping

Feds got the block baking, paper I can’t stop chasing

Cocaine cooking, kitchen smelling like bleach (woo!)

Every block I go, these niggas tell me I’m the streets (Gotti!)

Sipping margheritas with a diva on the beach

Love static, catch him naked in traffic, I'll feel like Reese (bang!)

Denim & Supply, I’ve been in the dope spot

Fiends nodding, knocking Stevie Ribbon in the Sky (ah!)

Woke up with your bitch, she let me hit it from the side

Conversating with my loc, he said he Cripping ‘til he dies (loc!)

Bury niggas alive like Pesci and his brother (uh!)

Middle of the desert, send that picture to their mother

I was Young Thugging 'fore I heard of Danny Glover

Oil’s burning, I can smell it, fuck breakfast, we've got butter

Two bitches from Texas in a Lexus, me and Butter

That’s my Queens nigga, treat my momma like his mother

Flagrant ass rappers, most these niggas undercover

Pillow talking to them bitches ‘til them niggas under covers

(Light it!)

My bitch addicted to red bottoms (red bottoms!)

Point him out, my youngin head shot him (line 'im!)

Come from the block, now we're headlining (yea!)

My phone off, they think the Feds got him (hello?)

My bitch addicted to red bottoms (red bottoms!)

Point him out, my youngin head shot him (all them!)

Come from the block, now we're headlining (from the block!)

My phone off, they think the Feds got him (hello?)

They think the Feds got him

My phone off, they think the Feds got him

My bitch addicted to red bottoms

Point him out, my youngin head shot him

They think the Feds got him

My phone off, they think the Feds got him

Come from the block, now we're headlining

Point him out, my youngin head shot him