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Yee yee! We've found 130 lyrics and 198 artists matching hot lunch by chris brown.
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you need Brand new Chris Brown, T-Pain You heard it here first, Nappy Boy Radio (what them boys gonna do for me?) We love you (ah) Hey, she want
you need Brand new Chris Brown, T-Pain You heard it here first, Nappy Boy Radio (what them boys gonna do for me?) We love you (ah) Hey, she want
the oven while I two-step in the shower A well-balanced potato salad and hot sauce Collard greens, fried catfish and lima beans Engrained in your brain
a nigga turned Blood, I came out the blue They like, "Damn who's Drake, where's wheelchair Jimmy at?" On my Chris Brown shit, I'm still here, gimme that
Transfixed by this dark haired Loita Who worked on him effortlessly So innocently he had no reason to mistrust Her looking up at him with Her lazy brown eyes
a hundred Haitians I'm a hot nigga by affiliation Look, fresh up out the county, I done did a lil bid Let the popos run up on me, I won't tell them
band San Diego got cancelled 'cause it's way too hot 1OAK with Chris Brown the night Suge got shot Locked me up at the show, nigga, that's on my mama
briefcase And we're taking cutbacks somebody gotta get dropped Capital investments by sequence automatic mechanical problem secure Space investor,
on yo bitch back to back swinging my pendant BMW riding in a coupe only one bitch fit Picked yo hoe up to go get lunch from Ruth Chris Rolling up za za
the desert? Wild, wild west hurt to the dirt Anti-immigration against brown skin Sounds like Brownshirts Silenced by so called legal violence Somebody had
missing Just like the roof is, riding in that Chris Brown Two seater deuces, peeling like I skip town Pocket full of brick money, neck full of black gold
Just in case you forgot We go by The Runners (hold up) Chris Brown This what we do We do this I be throwin' up my cash, actin' like money
the Lyndsey Lohan They say I Chris Tucked her In the stable, pimp for hire I got nervous, start running, hit the Christina Applegate And mind you, this is a hot
Maradona, Kobe Bryant, Afleck, Russell Simons, Afrika Bambaata, Jimmy Page y Led Zeppelin, Chris Brown, Neil Degrasse Tyson, James Franco, Picasso, Oliver
thang I don't gang-bang but I bang-bang I pull up to the club, I got on eight chains Took that bitch to Wings-N-Things, she wanna be my main Brown
like gina Chris brown i cant beef with him cuz he a singer Yeah that boy a bitch i could just tell by his demeanor Cuh come and wipe a nigga out like he
Check it out Porsche spots, drop, gun in the stash, box Get your bitch-ass, shot stuntin around here Here flow so, hot, they say I got it, locked Hold
Chris Brown moves I'm just doin my thangs 아직까지 기억해 듣곤 했던 rap songs now they call it boom bap Wu-tang, gang starr, biggie and pac 새로 태어났지 I was like
Met a honey riding on the trolly Looking kinda Dolby said that I could call her Molly Said she had a lover that went by the name of Polly As she
respect bitch you dub I stand on a hunnit you ain’t Chris brown you ain’t never gon run it if I want it right now imma get it stop fronting if the dick too
to the pyramids Cause a nigga built too different Built this shit brick by brick Going too big never ever been on some little shit Drinking some brown, not Chris
daddy's widow maker out a brown lunch bag (Bang!) This is where the hunch back snake oil peddlers Stuck under the burgundy sky of spaghetti westerns tend
And that's fine by me lad Got more bars than the milky way got stars Tasty hot or cold don't mistake me for pop tarts They're not hard but looks are gonna turn
to lie Whities like to do it worse than anybody around I am not no racist just an observer of life You could take me down But you aint chris brown You cant
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