Red Bottom Boss

[Chorus: Rick Ross]

It's the red bottom boss, came to buy the bar

Every bi-week, shit, I'm bound to buy a car

Murder-cedes Benz or that bubble double R

Headlights flicking, looking like a falling star

[Verse 1: The Game]

I'm 'bout to tear this fucking track out

Pretend that it's Keri Hilson and blow her fucking back out

22nd mixtape, half of 'em diss tapes

But fuck who I was dissing cause I never made a mistake

Bleek got what he deserved, Jay, I might have been tripping

I was falling, I was slipping, he was Jordan, I thought I was Pippen

He was winning, I was losing, he threw a jab, I start bruising

So I threw in the towel just to separate all confusion

Ivy Blue is beautiful, me saying that's unusual

That's just the father in me, don't think I'm trying to be cool with you

Thug life, Rihanna knuckles, Gucci shirt, designer buckles

Louis Vuitton billboard, the niggas that's just trying to hustle

Poster boy for them drug dealers, I just want y'all to love me

But I ain't the Feds, so I ain't really trying to bug niggas

Y'all the Verizon man, I'm just gon' stand behind y'all

But every now and then, I gotta remind y'all

[Chorus: Rick Ross]

It's the red bottom boss, came to buy the bar

Every bi-week, shit, I'm bound to buy a car

Murder-cedes Benz or that bubble double R

Headlights flicking, looking like a falling star

[Verse 2: The Game]

It's that red bottom boss, nigga

Burgundy Bentley truck, who give a fuck what it cost nigga

That V12 start up like Ross nigga

That's why them hoes call me the boss nigga

Catch me in the Maybach where them seats recline way back

Remember, I had a Rocky for ya, I ain't talking ASAP

Know I got that K strap, chopper with the base hat

If you see tip drilling, King of Diamonds, tell I got like eight stacks

Ace of Spades by the crates, biatch

Never lose, like Alexander the Great, biatch

I only win like Baylor, I run the city like mayors

Don't make me go dig up them old Chuck Taylor's

Back when me and Snoop was the only ones throwing up gang signs

Y'all niggas wasn't bloods until I came and cosigned y'all

But y'all the Verizon man, I'm just gon' stand behind y'all

And sometimes I gotta remind y'all

[Verse 3: The Game]

Taylor Gang nigga, I ain't Wiz doe

But I got that yellow brick road inside my ear lobes

Playing ice hockey, feeling like Gretzky

Los Angeles King, and I'm who my city gon' cheer for

Niggas throwing subliminals, act like I don't hear those

I could give you 600 bars, but y'all know that y'all fear those

And plus I'm too attached to my lifestyle

Fuck them Air 1's, I'm too attached to these spikes now

Louboutins, hard as croutons

They comfortable like futons, they suede, grey poupon

They yellow like Luke on the Lakers, he was traded

But they should have moved that nigga marrying Gloria Govan

Damn, was that too strong, these niggas getting pooped on

While I get my Duke on, and crossover like Duhon

You lukewarm, I'm too hot, you're too cold, I'm 2Pac

You're too old for Hip Hop, stop, recognize...

[Chorus: Rick Ross]

It's the red bottom boss, came to buy the bar

Every bi-week, shit, I'm bound to buy a car

Murder-cedes Benz or that bubble double R

Headlights flicking, looking like a falling star