Lyrics:
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
a sad disco, if it ain't me
And baby, if you ever (ah, ah-ah)
Find another lover, you'll see
I'll be dancing with my heart broke
Such a sad disco, if
of them too
Were ushered in by Old Doc Brown
When we made our first debut
Tho' he needed his dimes and there were times
That he'd receive a fee
He'd
face
'Cause you ain't ever gonna burn my heart out
And so Sally can wait
She knows it's too late
As she's walking on by
My soul slides away
But
can't stop now
For sure ain't no doubt
Keep an open mind - let it all hang out
It's raining inside a big brown moon
How does that mess your baby up
ain't nothin' like mine (uh)
Cute face nice size like mine
Stay kitted, hood wit' it like mine (ha)
Mean walk, talk the talk, let me tell you some more
without a thank you
To my ladies and my fellas
Aw, they kept it real with Chris Brown
I just wanna thank you
Thank you, baby (thank you), you know who
Brown Cigarillos
History keeps repeating itself, like a Biggie instrumental
America's a glass house and my revenge is mental
Rather use my brain than
without a thank you
To my ladies and my fellas
Aw, they kept it real with Chris Brown
I just wanna thank you
Thank you, baby (thank you), you know who
just loving it
That's for them other niggas, that's for the other bitches
That ain't for you dawg, that's for them other niggas
That ain't for you
This is my mother fucking house, eh I'm by the front door
Here about a blond haired bitch name Sisco
She'll do anything for daddy man the bitch go
Like Chris Brown when Rhianna got her fuckin' ass beat
Fuck Jeeves ask me for advice, if I'm not reading advice
I'm squatting down, picking cracker
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
[Ludacris (Chris Brown)]
Luda!(yep)
S.g.!
Chris breezy (it's me)
[Chorus]
I know what them girls
I know I know what them girls
I know I know
Clutchin' at a straw,
Ain't got nothing left
And the world keeps shoutin' more, more.
You haven't got an earthly
'Cause your heart bust up inside.
again, add it to wax
[Chorus]
[Young Chris]
It's not a game I'm from Philly
Go by the name, Young Chris, or Young Gunner
Know my partner Young
Lecter, so just in case you're thinkin' of savin' face
You ain't gonna have no face to save
By the time I'm through with this place, so Drake
It may
Hurt my heart when bitches I think solid, don't be solid
Confuse me when they fuck me over, I thought we was vibin'
Childhood like Chris Brown
one of me.
Now the immature imitations taken from originations;
Made by tracin', and a little arrangin'.
So perform, if ya still ain't warm; maybe
of my heart
Man this is silly
I ain't got nothing but slugs for you bitch-ass niggas, know what I mean?
Fuck all why'all niggas, straight like that
hit me from behind
Ain't talkin', just walkin'
Through this weary world of woe
Heart burnin', still yearnin'
No one on earth would ever know
the night
You ain't got angel funds is low, stack
Your bitch been ho-jacked
Still scoop her up, bring her home
And blow that, 'cause Ghost be mostly
hit me from behind
Ain't talkin', just walkin'
Through this weary world of woe
Heart burnin', still yearnin'
No one on earth would ever know
get high and call what's her name
She like to play this little
Game called fuck a brain
Lord when you talk them
Numbers sound sophisticated
It ain't
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