Lil Keke, Killa Kyleon, 8Ball - Bottom 2 Da Top lyrics
[Lil Keke, Killa Kyleon, 8Ball - Bottom 2 Da Top lyrics]
Yeah, yeah that's what it is
We made it out the bottom
We reaching for the top
We rise and fall, but the game don't stop
We made it out the bottom
We reaching for the top
Real estate cars, and them big shiny rocks
We made it out the bottom
We reaching for the top
Family first, fuck with that and get popped
We made it out the bottom
We reaching for the top
We live and die, but the game don't stop
Fat boy killer man, cut like a guillotine
Off with a nigga head, my style ain't free
Bloody body parts
Pop hearts and stop breathing
Nutty niggas only need a reason
Reach under the seat and grab the heat
And make that fire jump up out my window
I bet them bitches
Won't be coming round here talking no mo'
Ay yo, dirty lyrics bring out evil spirit's
I must be evil
Wouldn't talk it if I didn't live it
Wouldn't live it if I
Couldn't take it, please, believe it
Please believe
That if a nigga disrespect he bleeding
I put that on them little niggas
At the crib I'm feeding do whatever
Trying to get the shit that they be needing
Touch the streets, and get my feet muddy
For them dead presidents
Pimp a hoe like Cuddy
Like Bubba Sparxxx we get ugly, remember that
For that bread niggas willing to go
To hell and back
If your cash is mean
Let me hear you scream and rush it
Hood rich fake ass niggas
Y'all gotta love it get mine
Battle the streets and keep it locked
Loading and cocking Glocks
Jamming slowed down Pac
Twist it and make it pop
Close it and open shop
Bottom straight to the top
Smoking on that Cali crop
City that's do or die, kill you behind a lie
Open the pigeon coop
And let the street birds fly
Murder and racketeer, FED's won't disappear
Push it and hit the gear
Pray for another year
Lifetime, and the click be rumbling
Raised in the hood mayn
Where the heads be tumbling
Boys be stumbling, living in sadness
Broke as fuck, they can't shake the madness
A savage, plus I don't give a damn
Get rich and live it up
With the rest of the fam
Gotta rise to the top
Cause the bottom too crowded
It's like crabs in a bucket
And they holding me down
That's why I'm on the block with the rocket
I'm holding a pound
Inside the booth spitting
He's controlling the sound
And we controlling the town
Got the keys to the city
Rains trains or airplanes
I got the keys to the city
It's Killa, Ball and Ke we CMG
Custom Made Gangstaz, we CMG's
It don't take a set of binoculars
To see we G's got a eye for this do' nigga
So we see them G's
And I done finally made it
Cause I'm sick with the rap
Spit lyrics like cold bro
I'm sick with the rap
When the Glock start coughing
I'm sick with the strap behind money
I'd make your face stick to your lap
Gotta make it to the top bro
You can't deny my mail cause, I rap so well
They had to put my teeth in jail it's Killa
We made it out the bottom
We reaching for the top
We rise and fall, but the game don't stop
We made it out the bottom
We reaching for the top
Real estate cars, and them big shiny rocks
We made it out the bottom
We reaching for the top
Family first, fuck with that and get popped
We made it out the bottom
We reaching for the top
We live and die, but the game don't stop
Fat boy killer man, cut like a guillotine
Off with a nigga head, my style ain't free
Bloody body parts
Pop hearts and stop breathing
Nutty niggas only need a reason
Reach under the seat and grab the heat
And make that fire jump up out my window
I bet them bitches
Won't be coming round here talking no mo'
Ay yo, dirty lyrics bring out evil spirit's
I must be evil
Wouldn't talk it if I didn't live it
Wouldn't live it if I
Couldn't take it, please, believe it
Please believe
That if a nigga disrespect he bleeding
I put that on them little niggas
At the crib I'm feeding do whatever
Trying to get the shit that they be needing
Touch the streets, and get my feet muddy
For them dead presidents
Pimp a hoe like Cuddy
Like Bubba Sparxxx we get ugly, remember that
For that bread niggas willing to go
To hell and back
If your cash is mean
Let me hear you scream and rush it
Hood rich fake ass niggas
Y'all gotta love it get mine
Battle the streets and keep it locked
Loading and cocking Glocks
Jamming slowed down Pac
Twist it and make it pop
Close it and open shop
Bottom straight to the top
Smoking on that Cali crop
City that's do or die, kill you behind a lie
Open the pigeon coop
And let the street birds fly
Murder and racketeer, FED's won't disappear
Push it and hit the gear
Pray for another year
Lifetime, and the click be rumbling
Raised in the hood mayn
Where the heads be tumbling
Boys be stumbling, living in sadness
Broke as fuck, they can't shake the madness
A savage, plus I don't give a damn
Get rich and live it up
With the rest of the fam
Gotta rise to the top
Cause the bottom too crowded
It's like crabs in a bucket
And they holding me down
That's why I'm on the block with the rocket
I'm holding a pound
Inside the booth spitting
He's controlling the sound
And we controlling the town
Got the keys to the city
Rains trains or airplanes
I got the keys to the city
It's Killa, Ball and Ke we CMG
Custom Made Gangstaz, we CMG's
It don't take a set of binoculars
To see we G's got a eye for this do' nigga
So we see them G's
And I done finally made it
Cause I'm sick with the rap
Spit lyrics like cold bro
I'm sick with the rap
When the Glock start coughing
I'm sick with the strap behind money
I'd make your face stick to your lap
Gotta make it to the top bro
You can't deny my mail cause, I rap so well
They had to put my teeth in jail it's Killa