Lyrics

DJ Khaled & The Game Ft Rick Ross, Lil Wayne, Busta Rhymes & Fabolous – Bottles and Rocking J’s Lyrics

Updated

November 5, 2024

Mpo SA

This club banger is on The Game’s latest album titled R.E.D. This track boasts an instrumental produced by Lex Luger and features a heavy roster of all the usual suspects to spit over a mediocre Lex Luger-beat, by adding DJ Khaled, Rick Ross, veteran Busta Rhymes, Fabolous, and Lil Wayne.

Bottles and Rocking J’s Lyrics by DJ Khaled & The Game Ft Rick Ross, Lil Wayne, Busta Rhymes & Fabolous

[Intro: DJ Khaled]
Ayo Game, what they do boy
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
Ayo Game, Red Nation

[Verse 1: Busta Rhymes]
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 coming, 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 going and going
How I do it
Niggas don’t even be knowing, but then again
Yes they do be knowing how I be banging
In every shit that I give you
All the heat I be packin’
And I show it off
With all this money you know where I’m heading
And I’m gonna get the Jordan’s the patent leather 11’s
They really banging all the way down to the bed
And I get a couple pair with all this money I be getting
And I kill ’em with the bop, you see the way a nigga steppin’
And we pop bottles and we rock J’s, see me reppin’
Let me show you way I do it before I hit you with the weapon
Don’t be spillin’ liquor all over my shit, give me a second
Anyway, see we gotta get it up, prolly fill a model up
Let me rev a bottle up
Let me see everybody put your liquor bottles up
M-M-M-M-Maybach Music

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Bitches, I’m gettin’ money (Woo), bottles and rockin’ chains (Huh)
Money like I’m LeBron, my whip collection insane
Suicidal thoughts (Huh), highway to heaven riding like a boss
Condominium in the clouds, sixty G’s a month (Aha-ha-ha)
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 menage, I’m a G

[Chorus: The Game & Rick Ross]
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 getting money
Bitches and getting money
Bitches and getting money
Bitches and getting money
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 getting money
Bitches and getting money
Bitches and getting money
Bitches and getting money
[Verse 3: The 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 grey’s, that’s Monday
Them Space Jams, that’s Tuesday
Them Spike Lee’s on Wednesday
Twenty-three in my Benz, eh
You know I love them sixes especially on my bitches
Thirteens and them spandex on Thursday, it’s your birthday
And Friday I ain’t lying, King of Diamonds, I’m in heaven
Redbone pussy poppin’ on my black and red elevens
Patent leather when I step in
You know what I’m reppin’
It’s S double -O, W- Double O
Black number fours I ain’t get it from the store, Bus’ know
All I know is

[Verse 4: 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, ayy, ayy
Then it’s right back to my muggin’ face
Nigga said put the weed out
BBM, you buggin’ face
We walked in one some’n, bottles pop like we won some’n
Raise a glass for erry’body that’s done something from nothin’
No grind, no shine, dress code, we pay no mind
Cargo’s and J’s on, they let Sun in, no blinds
All I drink is my shit
Stop playin’, YouTube
But tonight we on that Red Berry and Cranberry, Soo Woo

[Verse 5: Lil Wayne]
And I’m smokin’ on that purp
Sippin’ on that purp
I came in this bitch with some niggas 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 Jordans
Got a scope on the barrel that’s a hammer with a camera
Hollow tips nigga, tip a nigga like a dancer
I don’t know nothing but bitches and gettin’ money
Blood gang, kill a nigga in public
Young Tunechi
Shoot a nigga ass up then it’s Deuces
Headshots that fucking vest is so useless
Yeah, yo chuck, fuck these niggas
You know who, P-I-RU, killer bees nigga
WHOOO, Young Moula baby