Search results for 'go on ii by chris brown' Page #145

see him if you speaking grub
Handshakes, that's a done deal
Stupid reloads, please don't question if my plug's real

[Verse 2 - Blade Brown]
You never

World So Cruel

Flesh-N-Bone

T.H.U.G.S.: Trues Humbly United Gatherin' Souls

1996

instead, they put'em on a self-destruct,
But I don't want to go to hell.
Vix'n tha body does it tell'n explicit,
For more'n I seen ya vision,
And let

overrated
Better missed and celebrated, than persist and be hated
I hope to grow old, already brown and gifted
I need no gold, nor renown, I've drifted
Let

inserted my tongue into your brown lips. Your lips are the most abundant I've ever known. Like two tiny elephant ears folded into a welcoming smile. It only

a clue
How to live by the rules, me and you

We could never be two, who's counting im a fool you
Doubting, couldn't see the mountain I was climbing

Flow like a night gown by the sound
Nice sound, nice sound
When you clapping that jiggly round and brown
Holy molly, whole band shining like a bust down

better
Can’t be social
In this era
Too focus on posting
I might just go postal and air it
Foreign fetti exchange
Got me living out my tax bracket
Go home

Been deprived, so the little bit you lost
Know it really meant a lot
I can't go back, Ain't no turning back the clock
I wanna be a symbol that can really

My Fault

Reedukay

Reeducation, Part 1

my fault)
My fault (my fault my fault my fault my fault my fault)
(Let's go) my fault

Check on the mic homie one-two
Comfy in my lane on yo level

Yup, I rep the few that
Could sell you their life story in two acts, from New Yack
The he who would find glory and knew that
I started in

a plug, blow the bag, 2 steppin'

Ha, ha, ha, ha

I write my sentence that would go over nigga heads
You wrote your sentence in a song, that what prison

Chris Parker, Public Enemy, and The Chronic were my go-tos
We didn't feel like white people should rap back then
Maybe we were a bit racist toward whites,

How many lives do we get
How many tires do we get
One life two tries if you're lucky
If you get a second chance that's a prize you posses
It ain't

Hey look, it's Chi Waller

Aye (Check, check 1, 2)
Yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yea (Check, check 1, 2, 1, 1, 2)
It feels real good to me (So good,

Bitch I don’t give a fuck, I’ll
Stab you in the gut, call it a tummy tuck
You can ask my ex
I bust quicker than two techs
Caressed by a kid with category

Morrisville seven
Pullin up to weird all my bitches queer
Need a SAAC award cause I'm player of the year
Then I'm poppin up to brown took your girl to town
Imma

the groceries
I did three years 'cause this girl I got here for
Passed the Casa, I need Red Bulls
The go-outside boys, you got money, no limit
I matched up

Leaving You

Hurricane Chris

51/50 Ratchet

2007

probably just with some freaks.
Now see this just be what I'm talkin bout, I need me a gutta chick, who gon keep it gutta with, Hurricane Chris or just

off the hidden vine
Sand hills like sandstone of a stone mason from a distant land
Ema pop and ahki out top riding down out by the Kingstree
Cried

silent. why you making problems.
Fly out to greece scratching the names
Off the fleece
Asking questions in private the public gone Toast you
Hanzo go up 2

yea you know, I go by Laid Back Macaroni
They're so phony, ain't that funny a few just cloned me
But they got that old me
They fuck with a nigga like me

just for me
Unlocking like she's the key
Your back flipping like one, two, three
I'm brought back down by gravity

I say yeah let's round them up
Take

don't touch the crown
By the way, that's Uncle Brown
A gyal dem a run me down, cuh
(I got it, yeah) this is soul baby
The kind of soul that gave
Stella

never drove a big red shark on the pacific highway but I did once own a 2CV that I bought for four hundred quid from a widowed man in a brown corduroy