Bun B - Rock Bottom lyrics

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Bun B - Rock Bottom lyrics

[Intro] I'd advise you to turn back It's not safe [Hook (4x)] Rock Bottom On the map Where's it at [Verse 1: Cubo] Papa Dade county n***a I rest my feam Triple my dough with a triple beam Laid back in the back with a cat on my lap And a fastac ready to serve a feen I live a dream and work my spot I ain't talking about clicking rocks I'm talkin' 'bout that sh** you blow When you ride around and you push that drop Blueberry I put you down, 38 might get you a pound 34 how the f** you sound And 33 get a b**h shot down Come down to overtown Where them boys roll with a 4 pound And and 4-5 with a deuce-deuce Look at all boys they get loose Watch out, Cubo's coming Coming through when he spitting something Some of y'all are spitting nothing Frontin' like you k**ing, what! Imma rep, 305, till the day, that I die You n***as got a problem with a n***a like this In the club, that sh**, we could go outside Let em fly, ride a clip, lose the clip, shoot the clip Y'all n***as don't want no beef with me I'm telling you n***as seriously Ain't nothing wrong with bangers Leave a n***a cooked like angus n***as wanna drop with that an*s I'm telling y'all n***as we dangerous [Intro (4x)] [Verse 2: Pitbull] Rock rock bottom of the map, where it's at There's no receipts in these streets If you cop it, you keep it, that's that I got that fal-con of glued mentality I do this for every hood, every block To the ones that push keys To the ones that push petty rocks If you pull off that, then I pull it pop Lemme show how them boys down here roll They know how to cook a yellow slab To match their mouth with yellow gold No job's a handful of work And the b**hes down here work poles These bootlegers pimp harder They n***as they the ones that work hoes D-A-D-E where we sell coke and hoes From pools to C-C-O-T to OP, Windwood, to AP Them boys up pull up in the van, jump out like the A-Team And they love, and they love to spray things Let's not talk about the night Cause this just a motherf**ing day thing Welcome to the bottom, we call it the crib B-E-T, that's how we live, banana clips [?] You banana split, we got plenty bullets to give So f** that South Beach sh**, yeah, that's what it is Next time y'all come to the bottom Make sure y'all come over the bridge [Hook (8x)] [Verse 3: Bun B] I'm from the bottom of the map, the bottom of the atlas The bottom of the globe, where they stuffing dope in the mattress And how do they cash into yours, stashing guns in they rides And be the snitch a** n***as be badder than pride I'm in that big body, pins on fold, no grub I don't ride with a [?], and I don't roll with scrubs I don't party in clubs, and don't laugh and clown Keep it one hundred and one, man don't be f**ing around Cause in my side of the city, pretty sh** don't live Nice sh** don't exist, and ain't no love to give What you want out of this life you gots to go out and take it Cause they ain't giving one no opportunities to make it You come in this world naked, and mama can dress you But sooner or later, you come out and deal with the pressure There are n***as that you've lost only to not return So whatever you've earned, protect it, [?] It's time you learned [Hook (8x)]