"Heels & Dresses" lyrics - THE GAME

THE GAME

"Heels & Dresses"

feat. Ty Dolla $ign

[Intro: DJ Skee]
DJ Skee... World Premiere!

[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign]
Up in the Club, Sipping on champagne
Middle Finger Up, Give A Fuck About A Damn Thing
Damn Thing
Whoa Oh, Whoa Oh, Whoa Oh
We be up in the club
With them bad bitches in them louboutin heels
And them [?] dresses
Whoa Oh, Whoa Oh, Whoa Oh
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

[Verse 1: X.O.]
I'm up in this motherfucker chillin'
Think I'm Big Meech, poppin' bottles through the ceiling
Shooting through the roof, so there ain't no glass ceiling
Couple Hundred Thou but I'm trying to get a million
Quarter pound of granddaddy, blow it as you wish
Pass me the Spade's and that high yellow bitch
My money hits the ceiling, then it comes right back
Little mama let me see you (roll around in a stack)
I put 30 on my neck, no help
So Fresh, Yes you can say I'm feeling myself
I put on for my city and the girls go crazy
You know what it is, I'm an Altadena baby
Money rolling in like a fucking Brinks Truck
And I wanna do is pop a 100 bottles in the club
And crack a bad bitch, I don't need no help
So Fresh, Yes you can say I'm feeling myself (myself)

[Verse 2: X.O.]
VVS big body sitting outside
Oh you got a boyfriend, why he let you outside?
But you and your girls drinking, You know its only right
And maybe you can be my club crush for the night
See "Money Ain't A Thang," just as long as I spend it
And I can blow a couple thou in a California minute
And Ain't nothing rented, she asked what's the difference
That means I ain't got to take it back when I'm finished
T.Y. stop hogging all the fucking Rose
You gon' be hungover for the next 4 days
Tell that nigga Y.G. stop taking all the models
Somebody get the waitress, I need me another model
Little model, tell me how you feeling
Couple more shots then you know I'm gon' kill it
Let me Beat it up and I promise I'm gon' kill it
Then go tell your homegirls I'm the realest

[Verse 3: X.O.]
Well Go head lil' mama it's your birthday
Well Go head lil' mama it's your birthday
Toot it up, drop it low (drop it low)
Pick up all that fucking money on the flo
I said well Go head lil' mama it's your birthday
Well Go head lil' mama it's your birthday
Toot it up, drop it low
Pick up all that fucking money on the flo