Lil Wayne ☆ Bottles And Rockin Js

[Intro: DJ Khaled]
Aiyyo Game, what they do, boi? It’s DJ Khaled
I got my black and red Jordan Retro 6’s on
I’m all about gettin money
I love glorifyin my hard work
Poppin bottles, shit them hoes love it too
This DJ Khaled, We the Best
Aiyyo Game, Red Nation {RED NATION}

[Chorus: Game]
All I know is bottles and rockin J’s (WOO!), bottles and rockin J’s (WOO!)
Bottles and rockin J’s (WOO!), bottles and rockin J’s
Bitches and gettin money, bitches and gettin money
Bitches and gettin money, bitches and gettin money
Bottles and rockin J’s (WOO!), bottles and rockin J’s (WOO!)
Bottles and rockin J’s (WOO!), bottles and rockin J’s
Bitches and gettin money, bitches and gettin money
Bitches and gettin money, bitches and gettin money

[Busta Rhymes]
Aiyyo Game I wanna talk right now..
I wanna let niggaz know what (I) know..

All I know is how to smash on everybody record and do what I do
and make somebody have to go and get a hearse
Yo, Game I don’t really give a fuck if it’s your record
and you my brother, my nigga look I gotta rhyme first
See the way I comin, how I do the game (Church!)
Ask somebody, you gotta know you gotta need a nurse
Let me bang ’em with another killa, then we put a couple bottles on the chiller
Kill ’em with another verse
Everybody see the way I be goin and goin
How I do it? Niggaz don’t even be knowin, but then again
Yes they do be knowin how I be bangin in every shit I be givin you
All the heat I be packin and I be – showin off
With all this money, you know where I’m headin
And I’m gonna get the Jordan’s the patent leather 11’s
They really bangin all the way down to the bedding
And I get a couple pair with all this money I be gettin
and I kill ’em with the bop, see the way a nigga steppin
And we pop bottles and we rock J’s (See me reppin?)
And respect the way I do it ‘fore I hit you with the weapon
Don’t be spillin liquor all over my shit, give me a second
Dayum! (SHIIIIIT!!) Anyway..
See we gotta get it up, prol’ly fill a model up
Lemme rev a bottle up, lemme see everybody put your liquor bottles up
{M-M-M-Maybach Music} LET’S GO!

[Rick Ross]
Bitches, I’m gettin money (WOO!), bottles and rockin chains
Money like I’m LeBron (WOO!), my whip collection insane
Suicidal thoughts (uh!), highway to heaven, ridin like a boss
Condominium in the clouds, 60 Gs’ a month (Hahaha!)
Fifty floors, marble walls, pictures of Boston George
Bitches snortin blow, fuckin fast and cookin dope (WOO!)
Sanctify, Bally shoes, Audemars, Franck Muller
That Chopard, my new bitches must mйnage, I’m a G

[Chorus]

[Game]
Bottles and rockin J’s, smokin and sippin Spades
Pistol tucked in my Louie, (Heated) up like I’m Wade
Nigga don’t do LeBron’s, Kobe up on the weekend
Jordan’s Monday through Friday, especially when I’m freakin
Them cool grays, that’s Monday, them Space Jams, that’s Tuesday
Them Spike Lee’s on Wednesday, 23 in my Benz – (AY!)
You know I love them 6s’, especially on my bitches
13s’ and them spandex on Thursday, it’s yo’ birthday
And Friday I ain’t lyin, King Of Diamonds I’m in heaven
Redbone pussy poppin on my black and red 11’s
Patent leather when I step in, you know what I’m reppin
S-double O W-double O
Black number fo’s, I ain’t get it from the store
Bus’ know, that…

[Chorus]

[Fabolous]
I put footprints in them couches, I put so much in my two-step
Put on fo’ my city, I ain’t got no choice but to rep
I put straight shots, in they hand, make pretty girls do the ugly face
And they just put my song on, move back, I need Dougie space
like AY! AY! Then it’s right back to my muggin face
Nigga said put the weed out, BBM, you buggin face
We walked in, one sum’n, bottles pop like we won sum’n
Raise a glass for err’body that’s done (Somethin, from Nothin)
No grind, no shine, dress code, we pay no mind
Cargos and J’s on, they let son/sun in, no blinds
All I drink is my shit, stop playin – Youtube (Coco Loso wasted!)
But tonight we on that red berry and cranberry – SOO-WOO

[Lil Wayne]
And I’m smokin on that purp, sippin on that purp
I came in this bitch, wit some niggaz that will murk
And we ain’t ’bout all that talkin, you a dead man walking
Stomp a nigga ass out, in these number 4 Jordan’s
Got a scope, on the barrel, that’s a hammer witta camera
Hollow tips nigga, tip a nigga like a dancer
I don’t know nuttin’ but bitches and gettin money
Blood gang, kill a nigga in public, Young TUNECHI!
Shoot a nigga ass up, then it’s deuces
Head shots, that fuckin vest is so useless
Yeaaaah! Yo Chuck, FUCK these niggaz!
You know who, P-I-RU, killer bees nigguh!
WHAOW!!! YOUNG MULA BAAAAAY-BAAAAAY!!

[Chorus]