Lyrics:
Yo this Chris Rock
I'm in here with my man Ricky Rozay
We in here drinkin' this Belaire Rose
That's how we do it
That's all we do
Belaire Rose!
you could hold my ground
I could tell ya bout some shit you'd prolly know by now
If you'd been through half of it or ever strolled my route
My God
I
Let’s,
Mr.Worldwide,(worldwide)
Take over,
Yeah,kay,
Yah.
Jim Jonson, Globe, (globe)
Let’s take over the globe.
Chris Brown
Where do we go from
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,
transform that to a half a man, Afghanistan
You wouldn't understand how I'm really living
I had it bad when I went to prison
Chris Brown diamonds won't
ain't getting loud
Better calm down 'fore I smack your ass down (uh-huh)
I need my drum, bass, high hats
I need my snare, strings horn, yes
I need my
ain't getting loud
Better calm down 'fore I smack your ass down (uh-huh)
I need my drum, bass, high hats
I need my snare, strings horn, yes
I need my
across the Isenhower
Kangol, fifty iguana, nugget trimmed, ice down iguana
Split it in half, holdin my anaconda
Black Marizana, true Don daughter,
Everyday I wake up in the morning
Smack my bitch, where's breakfast, bitch?
Tell a bitch once
She goes cooks up some shit
Bitch better not burn that
Everyday I wake up in the morning
Smack my bitch, where's breakfast, bitch?
Tell a bitch once
She goes cooks up some shit
Bitch better not burn that
better by myself
I don't need no body's help
They tryna take more than half my shit
They want me dead on some Mac Dre shit
I been working harder than
with your stuff
And poop brown is the color of their funky old trucks
It's the color of the nose of my nappy headed mutt
Right after he's been sniffin'
the tectonic plate shift I
Create is so great
That by the time you reach me the earthquakes
The booth was my birthplace
I'm used to the static
They say I got
like Chris Brown but I tell lil mama to run it
Fuck her good and slide it into her Stomach
While she jumps to assumptions Let's gets back to this money
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
this 9 to 5 and bring p's in
Double the amount and put half towards music
Hood smart
Half trap, Half legit
Black boy with my pen I'm too sick
Slap box
Happy holidays
Let me come here and talk to you
I gotta stop sayin' I'm not doin' this shit no more knowin' I'm cappin'
(Great John on the beat by
at the beach and I ain't talkin' Chris Brown. Oh wait, look, it's Chris Brown
Just playin', never seen him, but I'm sure he gets round. Showin' love to Sac-Town,
you to slip on the oak vine
I'ma do this nigga like I was chewing a pork rind nigga
Eminem couldn't get ya to a million on the 'Gram
Chris Brown
ride(let's ride)
I'll be there about five(oouu)
Trying to ball like and one
Chris brown diamonds baby so they dancing
Turned my apartment to a f***** mansion
and Sparks, we running this rap shit
Chris and Neef, we running this rap shit
The takeover, the break's over nigga
God MC, me, Jay-Hova
Hey lil' soldier
interested she said
(oh I apologies)
I looked deep into her dark brown eyes
I said you ignored me for months on end
Now all of a sudden you wanna be my
I'm only sixteen (yeah)
I got a TEC, it go, "Bap, bap, bap" (yeah)
They hit on my bitch and they snap and they clap (yeah)
I feel like Chris Brown
.jpg/300px-Half_Man_Half_Biscuit_(22017516678).jpg "Half Man Half Biscuit")
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