Dashboard lyrics
by Redda
[Chorus: Redda]
(Pourin' up now) That b*tch, she sip on some lean, I sip that red, not no green
f*ckin' that b*tch in a— Uh, yeah, f*ckin' that b*tch, Louis sheets
And you know that we chasin' that bread and cheese
Tell that b*tch "Give me head," go 'head like please
I can't wait 'til I'm dead and go way underneath
Yeah, that b*tch, she want some bread, she's like, "Please," hm, hm
Two-twenty my motherf*ckin' dashboard, b*tch (I can't wait 'til I'm down)
Yeah, I stay with my b*tch, we like Lilo and Stitch
I stay goin' too cool, I can't get a grip
They say, ''Lil' Redda, he fried,'' they say, ''Lil' Redda, he greasy,'' huh
[Verse 1: Redda]
I'm so motherf*ckin' friеd, ain't know that I f*cked on yo' b*tch, yeah
I'm so goddamn high, my ex on thе Perc' on the stick
He wan' try us, lil' b*tch, we got sticks
Come and try us, lil' b*tch, we got blicks
Got a lil' bad b*tch askin' me for a pack
Got a lil' bad b*tch askin' me for some di*k, huh
Pop me a motherf*ckin' blue, that's a Avatar pill, huh
Lil' Redda off of the shrooms, now I know what that Avatar feels
b*tch wanna get next to me, lil' b*tch want some ecstasy
Yeah, big bro, pass me the Bentley key, yeah
Bentayga baddie, that b*tch on her knees, yeah
Balenciaga, it's matchin' my sneak, yeah
Balenciaga, the Strikes on my feet
I had the Fendi and Prada and Ricky the tee
I got Louis Vuitton, I said, ''Rest in peace, V"
Huh, R.I.P. V, huh, yeah, R.I.P. V
Yeah, R.I.P. V, huh, yeah, R.I.P. V
[Chorus: Redda & Dom Corleo]
That b*tch, she sip on some lean, I sip that red, not no green
f*ckin' that b*tch in a— Uh, yeah, f*ckin' that b*tch, Louis sheets
And you know that we chasin' that bread and cheese
Tell that b*tch "Give me head," go 'head like please
I can't wait 'til I'm dead and go way underneath
Yeah, that b*tch, she want some bread, she's like, "Please," hm, hm
Two-twenty my motherf*ckin' dashboard, b*tch (I can't wait 'til I'm down)
Yeah, I stay with my b*tch, we like Lilo and Stitch
I stay goin' too cool, I can't get a grip
They say, ''Lil' Redda, he fried,'' they say, ''Lil' Redda, he greasy,'' huh (Yo)
[Verse 2: Dom Corleo]
I can go up when I wanna (Yeah, huh)
I'm the hottest, hotter than the sauna (Yeah)
Known to put a lil' ho in designer
Known to hit the ho once, never call her (Never call her)
And I still got the ho callin' back (Back)
Yeah, I still got that ho on my back (Still got that ho on my back)
And it's nothin' that's holdin' me back (Real)
Me and all of the money attached (Oh yeah)
And I'm in love with the green (I'm in love)
Probably picked the money over sex
Probably pick a ho and bigger checks (Then get chased)
Probably f*ck a ho with bigger tits (Then get teased)
But she don't get the tip
She get down and she play with the tip (Yo)
Stack my pockets, I walk with a limb (Oh, wow)
Fully loaded, I shoot at this b*tch (Oh, wow)
Glock with the di*k, and I play the with clip
I stand on my money, I'm tall in this b*tch (Oh wow)
And just like Nowitzki, I ball in this b*tch (Oh, wow)
My hand on the Glock and I'm aimin' that b*tch (Wow)
K-K-K rounds (sh*t), he got K-K-Karo (Woah)
Wait, wait, bad ho (Ha)
Like, tell me, is you on go? (Tell me, is you on go?)
'Cause I got a bankroll, couldn't just thumb through my bands, bro (Through my bands, bro)
Couldn't just count it on my hands, bro
My b*tch, you can't have her, bro
(My b*tch, you can't have her bro)
(I bet you can't count bands on my f*ckin' hands, yeah, yeah, yo)
(I bet you can't count bands on my f*ckin' hands, yeah, yeah, yo)
[Chorus: Redda & Dom Corleo]
That b*tch, she sip on some lean (Woah), I sip that red, not no green
f*ckin' that b*tch in a— (Yo) Uh, yeah, f*ckin' that b*tch, Louis sheets
And you know that we chasin' that bread and cheese
Tell that b*tch "Give me head," go 'head like please
I can't wait 'til I'm dead and go way underneath
Yeah, that b*tch, she want some bread, she's like, "Please," hm, hm
Two-twenty my motherf*ckin' dashboard, b*tch (I can't wait 'til I'm down)
Yeah, I stay with my b*tch, we like Lilo and Stitch
I stay goin' too cool, I can't get a grip
They say, ''Lil' Redda, he fried,'' they say, ''Lil' Redda, he greasy"