Red Bottoms

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
Got maxed the 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 Mazerattis 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



Credits
Writer(s): Ricardo Lamarre, David Brewster Jr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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