Rick Ross, The Game - Red Bottom Boss lyrics

I'm about to tear this fuckin' track out
Pretend it's 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
[?] 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' that's unusual
That's the father in me
Don't think I'm tryin' to be cool with you
Thug life, Rihanna knuckles, Gucci shirt
Designer buckles
Louis Vuitton billboard
The nigga's boy just tryin' to hustle
Poster boy for them drug dealers
I just want you all to love me
But I ain't handsome
I ain't 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

It's that red bottom boss, nigga
Burgundy Bentley truck
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
And I ain't talkin' ASAP
You know I got that K strap
Chopper with the base hat
If you see Tip trillin', 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 Bay
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 throwin' up gang signs
Ya niggas wasn't bloods until
I cosigned y'all
But y'all that Verizon man
I'm just gon' stand behind y'all
And sometimes I gotta remind y'all

Taylor Gang nigga, I ain't Wiz doe
I got that yellow brick road
Inside my ear lobes
Playin' ice hockey, feelin' like Gretzky
Los Angeles King
And I'm who the whole city cheer for
Niggas throwin' subliminals
Act like I don't hear those
I could give y'all 100 bars
But you all know 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
Louis Vuitton's, 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
Damn, was that too strong?
These niggas gettin' pooped on
While I get my Duke on
And crossover like Duhon
Luke warm, I'm too hot, you're too cold
I'm 2Pac, you're too old for hip hop
Stop. Recognize