Petty Lyrics - Bottoms Up - Obie Trice

Who do it hotter in Prada? 

I ain't from N.Y., do it +M-Y Way+, so Sinatra 

You know my {?} not proper for the Oscars 

But I opt out for the Oxfords in the Oxford 

... Ha ha, that hurts 

Some'n by this oar got 'em tippin they fedoras 

Got the ladies bein whores cause we're ballin out stores 

I coordinate on e'rything I wore 

So ladies know him now say, "That was him before" 

Fresh as the core in my Christian Diors 

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[Chorus] 

[Obie Trice] 

Got me smellin like Chanel 

Well, that's my female, shorty gets that mail 

In them transparent 90-millimeter heels 

In them Red Bottoms showin off them Christian Lou-B's 

Heels... that's real 

E-e-e'rything 'bout her scream Dolce & Gabanna 

with the bowlin ball bag showin out at Caribana 

Lil' mama, she a stunner 

Tweed dress on, no panties up under 

Catch her on Queens Street ballin at the boutiques, holla 

[Chorus] 

[Obie Trice] 

BME, Black Market Entertainment 

Obie Trice (Obie Trice, Obie Trice) 

New shit... so bent 

Photos 

Guess the man lucky, she ain't glam luxury 

We as a couple get +Fresher+ than Douglas E. 

Double up on my duds where the logos be 

So Polo duplicate on me, guess that's why they hate Obie 

They can see 

[Chorus] 

[Outro] 

I'm petty {*4X*}