I'm trappin' with red bottoms on my feet
I spent a thousand dollars on my jeans
I shoot at you, If you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
Bitch, you know I'm really from the streets
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I'm really from the streets, I been there since a youngin
The neighbors used to watch me, sick, the police on me
The opps already know I keep the pistol on me
Told my mama, don't stress, just pray for me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
My brother jail calls, hear the stress through the phone
I told my mom I got her, I won't leave her alone
The devil on my back and he won't leave me alone
And every night I pray I just make it home
And I'm that nigga who they hatin' on
So pour some liquor for my nigga's gone
I'm trappin' with red bottoms on my feet
I spent a thousand dollars on my jeans
I shoot at you, If you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
Bitch, you know I'm really from the streets
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I'm walkin' round with Loubotins on my feet, yeah, yeah
I gotta keep that glick up in my jeans, yeah, yeah
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets, yeah, yeah
I don't f*ck with you, I you don't f*ck with me, yeah, yeah
Flexing, shawty, she just blessed me
I just spent my salad all on dressing
Ice around my neck like I'm Wayne Gretzky
If I wanna crush a bitch, gon' let me
Now they on my way there like a jet ski
These niggas in the way like, take a left, please
I be blowing paper like a wet sneeze
No more Jordans, designer sneaks, I collect these
I'm trappin' with red bottoms on my feet
I spent a thousand dollars on my jeans
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
Bitch, you know I'm really from the streets
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
Gotti 4real - FrFr (feat. Raheim, Barbarason & Taylo) Lyrics
Gotti 4real - FrFr (feat. Raheim, Barbarason & Taylo) Lyrics
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English
I'm trappin' with red bottoms on my feet
I spent a thousand dollars on my jeans
I shoot at you, If you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
Bitch, you know I'm really from the streets
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I'm really from the streets, I been there since a youngin
The neighbors used to watch me, sick, the police on me
The opps already know I keep the pistol on me
Told my mama, don't stress, just pray for me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
My brother jail calls, hear the stress through the phone
I told my mom I got her, I won't leave her alone
The devil on my back and he won't leave me alone
And every night I pray I just make it home
And I'm that nigga who they hatin' on
So pour some liquor for my nigga's gone
I'm trappin' with red bottoms on my feet
I spent a thousand dollars on my jeans
I shoot at you, If you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
Bitch, you know I'm really from the streets
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I'm walkin' round with Loubotins on my feet, yeah, yeah
I gotta keep that glick up in my jeans, yeah, yeah
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets, yeah, yeah
I don't f*ck with you, I you don't f*ck with me, yeah, yeah
Flexing, shawty, she just blessed me
I just spent my salad all on dressing
Ice around my neck like I'm Wayne Gretzky
If I wanna crush a bitch, gon' let me
Now they on my way there like a jet ski
These niggas in the way like, take a left, please
I be blowing paper like a wet sneeze
No more Jordans, designer sneaks, I collect these
I'm trappin' with red bottoms on my feet
I spent a thousand dollars on my jeans
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
Bitch, you know I'm really from the streets
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I spent a thousand dollars on my jeans
I shoot at you, If you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
Bitch, you know I'm really from the streets
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I'm really from the streets, I been there since a youngin
The neighbors used to watch me, sick, the police on me
The opps already know I keep the pistol on me
Told my mama, don't stress, just pray for me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
My brother jail calls, hear the stress through the phone
I told my mom I got her, I won't leave her alone
The devil on my back and he won't leave me alone
And every night I pray I just make it home
And I'm that nigga who they hatin' on
So pour some liquor for my nigga's gone
I'm trappin' with red bottoms on my feet
I spent a thousand dollars on my jeans
I shoot at you, If you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
Bitch, you know I'm really from the streets
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I'm walkin' round with Loubotins on my feet, yeah, yeah
I gotta keep that glick up in my jeans, yeah, yeah
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets, yeah, yeah
I don't f*ck with you, I you don't f*ck with me, yeah, yeah
Flexing, shawty, she just blessed me
I just spent my salad all on dressing
Ice around my neck like I'm Wayne Gretzky
If I wanna crush a bitch, gon' let me
Now they on my way there like a jet ski
These niggas in the way like, take a left, please
I be blowing paper like a wet sneeze
No more Jordans, designer sneaks, I collect these
I'm trappin' with red bottoms on my feet
I spent a thousand dollars on my jeans
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
Bitch, you know I'm really from the streets
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
I shoot at you, you shoot at me
Lil' bitch, I'm really from the streets
Writer: WILLIAM TRICE
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Missing Link Music
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Missing Link Music