Lyrics:
remember what he said about Mike Brown
That's why he goin' through all this bullshit right now (karma)
People went to Travis Scott show and lost they life
Gimme all of you I'm right here by yo side baby
Might be sprung off you been givin all my time lately
Just want you to ball with me I know you wit
a lost cause
Had to switch it up like a criss cross
And I dance around like I'm Chris brown
But I put in work like I'm Chris bosh
Whipping in the kitchen,
a lost cause
Had to switch it up like a criss cross
And I dance around like I'm Chris brown
But I put in work like I'm Chris bosh
Whipping in the kitchen,
man
Start off by lettin you know, See the pen that's Pai Mei
Mixed with Chris Tucker gettin real money from Friday
On some nice haze, that could have
called the waitress, gimme a drink!
And by that time, a nigga start' to think
If that bitch in here swallows bottle tops,
I know she could make me hard
You know how to find it, just follow the sirens
We don't have time for the drama or violence
Even ya mama's invited
I'll stick with the Crown, no brown
Hey, homeys!
Who me?
Yeah, that's right. You the fly hustler.
Ya'll still sellin' that fake Louie, huh?
Hey! Don't be turnin' the high side up in
Gotta get me that (Gimme that)
Seaside paradise
Had to take a risk, take a chance
Take a gamble (Had to do it when I do it)
Crap game
Playing with a pair
you by the hand?
What's the matter with you
My lovely brown eyed man?
How come I can feel you shaking?
They want me bad, now bad I'll be
They
pounds
I have brown hair and green eyes
I enjoy writing songs, painting, movies and diner food
I have two brothers, Chris and Graham
and two parents, Paul
that pension pendin'
Tryna pop the hood and see the engine messin'
Double barrel shotgun how ya men get missin'
She got pretty brown eyes and she in
a teen
Movie star fit how I'm fresh on the scene
Ya
Gimme that heat I slide
Baddest chick she in my ride
Wavy chick stay by my side
I'm the wave some like
a triple stack
A nigga try me bout 50 cents go get the strap
Then tell a bitch that's celibate to let me take her down
And Call me Chris Brown cause i know
money back
Niggas crazy in the booth with they cap ass rhymes
Gimme the blade I give you cuts that's rite on time
You forgot to pay the fee, you gotta run
Rollin' in a golden Tacoma, the shit's stolen
If that bitch tell on me, I'ma do a fuckin' drive-by in her colon
With my meat, gotta keep it obsolete
got it by the pidound
Straight up out the midound, make everybody get down
Sandy brown blades ways in a daze damn
Ain't Eightball at the mall with
yo wife...
I'm getting high, I'm getting high
(Stop that Chris Brown shit nigga)
Yo
(Young pretty nigga)
Young pretty nigga (You already know)
Young
match my fit, hat match my shirt, shirt match my bitch
These niggas might dress but not like this, Kaliimarii bag brown, Gimme That like Chris
I'm tellin'
days cause
I know they ain't shooting
The only shots these niggas tryna
Send is through some music
Chris Brown will these pills
Yeah I abuse them
Don't
had to mash it on them RPMs
Know I pull up by 9 pm
Finna wreck it in is Ralph, shut the internet down
Take it down, wit me no Chris brown
Jordan peele,
some acid
Talk to our eyelids and shit
(Just kidding man, stick to the herb)
(He said Chris Brown but I don't know why)
So now we live and learn
be sayin that im the one who gon top anyone who come through
Got me feelin like chris brown, you rihanna, you get knockout wit a 1 2
This k gon be
girls got nothing on but virgin hair
What a fuck a picture that's a fuck picture
The beat is complicated call it chris science
Israel is real great but
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