[Verse 1: Game] Throw your muthafucking Cincinnati hats in the sky, nigga don’t ask why Red laces in and out of them Air Max ’95's I, walk on the moon, flow hotter than June Any nigga want drama I kick up a sand dune Peace to my man Tune for giving his man room Now we hittin’ switches 'til the Spring Break, Cancun Get it? Nah forget it, Soo Woo I live it Made the letter B more famous than a Red Sox fitted But that was suicide, I don’t live in Judas’ eyes Half of these rappers weren’t trappin’ when I was choppin’ the do or die Suge had me in, I went Puffy like Zab Judah eye Dre called, told my baby momma “won’t you decide” She chose Doc, first day I pulled dude a side Like it's Aftermath for life and all I do is ride Before I turn on ‘em I kill Satan And stick my red flag in the ground it’s Red Nation
[Hook: Lil Wayne] Now Blood the fuck up Everyday’s a gamble muthafucka tough luck And we gon' fuck the world 'til that bitch bust nuts I can’t tell you what's good, but I can tell you what's what And that’s, B’s up, hoes down Lookin’ in the mirror, I’m nowhere to be found Blood, I’m a dog, call me a blood hound Throwin’ blood in the air, leave blood on the ground
[Verse 2: Game] Niggas’ll trade they soul to be Drake or J. Cole Live and die for this shit, word to 2Pac Shakur’s halo One blood, plural, nigga I’m spending Euros Ferrari got an ice cream paint job, Dorrough I’m up out the hood, where they pull guns on you like Come up out ya hood, it ain't never all good We roll up in backwoods, nigga get to actin’ stupid Get thrown in the backwoods, Los Angeles Home of the scandalous, pimp, hoes and gamblers 98 degrees on Christmas, nigga we rollin’ cannabis Swisha sweet ain't it, I told her I’m Charles Louboutin The bitch fainted, pulled her panties down, stain it That’s my Chi-lingo, yeah I’m bi-lingual Ball by myself, nigga, Ochocinco Dancing with the stars, bullets and fast cars And everybody bleed out here, word to God
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Game] Russia got a red flag, US got red stripes Last train to Paris, round the world in these red Nikes Che Guevara of the New Era, test me Louisville slugger, Yogi Berra in my new era Got that natty on, tighter than a magnum Walk in the club saggin’ with a 38 Magnum Red Ralph Laurens, the double R sittin’ On a hill like Lauren her and the car foreign Got my red Dre Beats on, tryna put my peeps on And I keep it hood like this Phantom is a Nissan Where my nigga Jim Jones at? Roll up the weed son So many bloods in Compton had to get a NYC song And while I’m out here, I might as well go shopping And put this new bad bitch I got in some red bottoms And all these hatin’ ass niggas want me dead Cause I’m Malcolm X before he turned Muslim, RedTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
