Lyrics:
you know
It ain't safe no more, man
We want all women
We comin' for the R&B singers, actresses
Models all that, man
Yeah i see you O, I see you Chris
If yall niggas tryina match us
Smokin on that good strong
You need to get your packs up
Had to cut some bitches off
Cause all they do is act up
Needs
Blow the whistle, baby you're the referee
You put it down like New York City, I never sleep
Wild like Los Angeles, my fantasy (Chris Brown)
Hotter
or I can hit it fast
I do it how she ask, and I cum last
I bust her ass, we tear it down
Then I gotta split like James Brown
It's all love, I come
Blow the whistle, baby you're the referee
You put it down like New York City, I never sleep
Wild like Los Angeles, my fantasy (Chris Brown)
Hotter
she stoppin by
Boy I gotta see it through
Yeah yeah
Boy I gotta see it through
If you mix in Henny and patron you prolly all good (Yeah yeah)
Boy I
dig these bars
From palm trees, to bomb green, if it all seems
Like we're living in the land of dreams, by all means
Forever, rockin that, purple
Everybody hates Chris, c'mon all together
Everybody hates Chris, c'mon all together
Everybody hates Chris, say it together
Yall ain't never seen
pavement
You can't spit if you dead in the ground
In the woods where ya head'll be found
And its good that you getting it now in the prescient confessin'
you want the sweet love
You are the brown sugar I need
Taste good when it drip like a honey bee
You are the brown sugar I need
Taste good when it drip
like Chris Brown
Smack a bitch in the mouth like Chris Brown
When I'm done with a bitch I piss brown
(Woo) you heard-a 9
11? That was me
That Columbine
like Chris Brown
Smack a bitch in the mouth like Chris Brown
When I'm done with a bitch I piss brown
(Woo) you heard-a 9
11? That was me
That Columbine
around
Know this round house it'll knock them down
All my people turn to Chris Brown when he fall down
How we stomp the ground
Want the gold like
(Let's get it)
We can do it, do it all night long
Crazy how the time flies (Crazy)
By the minute still living like it's nine five (Ninety five)
education
And I’m sure this will end up online
So I don’t want to diss anyone at
The American Academy, I’m sure it’s equal to
The Art Institute of Chicago by
in
Yo Tiga-Z
Yo man wake up
J-Snow
My old friend
The fuck you want Hash Browns
You replaced me
Left me to die by Tiga-Z's hand
Look man it was time
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,
kindly way
He served us one and all
Many a patient forgot to pay
although' doc's fees were small
But Old Doc Brown didn't seem to mind
He didn't
Shawty gotta good head on her shoulders
Dear brown girl Dear brown girl
(Dear brown girl Dear brown girl)
(She catch all eyes, she catch all eyes)
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
pavement
You can't spit if you dead in the ground
In the woods where ya head'll be found
And its good that you getting it now in the prescient confessin'
there by the name of William Brown.
I served my master faithfully for seven long years or more
Till I shipped aboard The Ocean Queen belonging to Tramore.
and dad but can't hear you
Coz you just whisper
Hold you hostage
Make you dance
Till you feel like Chris Brown
You know I'm a freak
Step by step I take I
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