Red Red (feat. Ef Ay, Mack OC & Stix)

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Daark

2:50

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I was smoking outside, fit redder than my eyes
Whoa, better move aside
Damn, better look alive
Damn, better I decide
Wrote a letter in my ride
Blue's cool, but I better slide
I was stepping in the tide looking like a blood moon
Representing my side, hooking like a harpoon
I feel better at night, know you're feeling that fine
I'm a heady type of bite, like it's
I was zipping all night with my brothers
Red eye like I hit a long flight with my brothers
Stay silent while I rip a long stream through the shutters, said
Pilot might've hid the whole team undercover
I've got
Color preferences
Upper references
What the difference is?
I'm never dipping on sis
It's why I pull up in this
It's what my element is
I'm feeling fine like
Pour it up
Pour it up
Look at us
Pour it up
Pour it up
Now you're fucked up
Pour it up
Pour it up
Look at us
Pour it up
Pour it up
Now you're fucked up
Hot sauce, how a nigga drippin
Sorry if I zoned out, I was probably sippin
F*ck da AirBnB, I was in the Hilton
Feel like London Tipton, hop in foreign, tip it
I was overseas tryna score in Ti-bet
Ooo I mean Tibet
Ooo I ain't finished yet
Aiming for da neck, ooo, make em hit da deck
I ain't never been a fool, I got intellect
Strawberry in banana
I got Antisocial on tie-dyed
All these niggas dat I'm steppin on, they gumbas
Put em in a wrapper like a moon pie
Skrrt past in a Rolls, Imma zoom by
On my wrist electric gold doin da Zumba
Said you ain't even happy need a new life (new life)
Need a new life, uhh
Whole team up on my back so they just got to blitz you
The accolades ain't come in yet but that's just not the issue
Your guys ain't even got no stripes and y'all just bought the whistle
So y'all is not official
Got praises pouring out my mouth like an apostle preacher
Told my girl to drop the crystals
Cause told her I ain't
Told her i ain't feeling that
The floor below my bottoms lowest days is where y'all ceiling at
I can't eat where all your partners eat cause ain't no mill in that
I feel a track paper mad soggy how I bleed the pen
There's guys that ain't apologize before that want to see amends
Never met before but both is broke, he might just be your mans
They want the pretty grave instead of gates, it might just be a trend
He 35, never growing old, call him Peter Pan
Second place always wearing 2, Derek Jeter fan
Pleading with a scout
Always leaving him out
Hope your running be the same with all that speed in your mouth
Stealing style but that ain't none but some cheese to a mouse
You broke boys in love with anything but being in the house
I be steady on the go, and i be steady on the grind
But this ain't Kool-Aid lil momma, this some
Pour it up
Pour it up
Look at us
Pour it up
Pour it up
Now you're fucked up
Pour it up
Pour it up
Look at us
Pour it up
Pour it up
Now you're fucked up

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