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Red Bottom Boss Lyrics

from California Republic

"Red Bottom Boss" is track #2 on the album California Republic.
"Red Bottom Boss" is track #2 on the album California Republic.

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(Ft. Rick Ross)

[Verse 1: Game]
Im about to tear this fuckin track out
Pretend its Keri Hilson and blow a fuckin back out
22nd mixtape, half of em diss tapes
But fuck who I was dissin because I never made a mistake
Bleek got what he deserved, Jay, I might have been trippin
I was fallin, I was slippin
He was Jordan, I thought I was Pippen
He was winnin, I was losin
He threw a jab, I started bruisin
So I threw in the towel just to separate all confusion
Ivy Blue is beautiful, me sayin thats unusual
Thats the father in me, dont think Im tryin to be cool with you
Thug life, Rihanna knuckles, Gucci shirt, designer buckles
Louis Vuitton billboard, the niggas boy just tryin to hustle
Poster boy for them drug dealers
I just want you all to love me
But I aint handsome, I aint trying to bug niggas
Yall the Verizon man, Im just gon stand behind yall
But every now and then, I gotta remind yall

[Verse 2: Game]
Its that red bottom boss, nigga
Burgundy Bentley truck, fuck what it cost nigga
That V12 start up like Ross nigga
Thats 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, and I aint talkin ASAP
You know I got that K strap, chopper with the base hat
If you see tip drillin, 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
Dont make me go dig up them old Chuck Taylors
Back when me and Snoop was the only ones throwin up gang signs
Ya niggas wasnt bloods until I cosigned yall
But yall that Verizon man, Im just gon stand behind yall
And sometimes I gotta remind yall

[Verse 3: Game]
Taylor Gang nigga, I aint Wiz doe
I got that yellow brick road inside my ear lobes
Playin ice hockey, feelin like Gretzky
Los Angeles King, and Im who the whole city cheer for
Niggas throwin subliminals, act like I dont hear those
I could give yall 100 bars, but you all know yall fear those
And plus, Im too attached to my lifestyle
Fuck them Air 1? s, Im too attached to these spikes now
Louis Vuittons, hard as croutons
They comfortable like futons
They suede, grey poupon
The yellow like Luke on
The Lakers, he was traded
But they should have moved that nigga Marion, Gloria move on
Damn, was that too strong?
These niggas gettin pooped on
While I get my Duke on, and crossover like Duhon
Luke warm, Im too hot, youre too cold
Im 2Pac, youre too old for hip hop
Stop. Recognize

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