Lyrics:
called by the name
Chris the little bitch
I lost my cat
I lost my cat
I lost my cat
The time has come
For Chris's dick to be chopped off
And roasted
an ambulance
I'm passin' out off of mass amounts
Of craft beer, can't hear what you're laughin' 'bout
We're drinkin' champagne by the magnum now
I got a drink in
jump through hoops
Cross over mountains and Mohills to get to you
Sometimes I just can't focus cause my mind so loose
I could never be like Chris
Niggas talk like hoes that could never be me
Bitches over bros that could never be me
Under pressure never fold that could never be me
You sell
Disneyland
I am teaching Sickology, try to follow how every punch line hits
Like Chris Brown's fist in the face of Rihanna
[Chorus]
Yes I got to be
Disneyland
I am teachin Sickology, try to follow how every punch line hits
Like Chris Brown's fist in the face of Rihanna
[Chorus]
Yes I got to be vicious,
Clerk: You've got a pet halibut?
Praline: Yes, I chose him out of
Thousands i didn't like the others
They were all too flat
Clerk: You must be a loony
See the bluebird fly easy as a dream,
Dipping and bobbing in the sun.
Could she be the one I saw so long ago?
Could she be the one to take me
underneath
eating mine alone
and no one knows
or eating every ones
and everyone is coming
i could never bring anything to reality now
reality is cracked by
And you could never feel the love without knowing the pain
Bracelet and the pinky ring, go with the chain
These the different kind of jewels though, that
go home early I'll be singin the blues
Lake Shore Drive looks so damn nice
Hypnotized by your brown eyes
What's up next you'll be suprised
Please dont
Kaput, I'm done with this life intercepted by my lights
That turn despite I don't want to breath
If I could wipe I would be gone and leave this clean slate
such a treat I never saw
Oh I only hope someday to be the old man's son-in-law.
Well, Old Brown he sells from off his shelf most anything you please
cop it I don't need the amount
I know I'm always well off don't need to check the account
Send him on a hit I know the body will never be found
Tryna
Swagger
I'm a be a nigga that can break you down
A tad bit of a Brager
On point like a dagger
Get my swang on but I'm not Chris Brown
I'm a D boy in my
tailed trying to wave your tailfeather
Jam as if your toe nails, were crammed all together
(Let’s go)
Eyes open, or eyes wide shut
Riding by eyeing on her
the proper steps and you could be my neighbour
Fresh out of labour, its Young Money baby
Even from the passenger side we drive these broads crazy
We ain't
point you to the cross
Cause life is real short and your life could be off
Getting cash from dope in this world is so prevalent
So the way to come up is
hunting beast
Hunting season never fair warning I destroy the beacon
Deacon jones on defensive line I'll be hall of fame
Serving white millie bobby brown
real, aww, it's testimony time
Oh who is that? Young Chris Bridges
Boy I'm glad you finally grew into them ears
Go on and testify
[Ludacris]
Lord,
up, yeah
Fuck with us, try yo' luck, huh
My choppa be beatin' his
Ass, no Chris Brown, huh
My choppa be loaded, I keep a hundred round
Huh my choppa be
Man y'all never working (Bitches never be working)
I need the money it's urgent,
Could leave you bloody like surgeons
For tryna ride my wave
But just
How could you expose my vulnerability
And John B
You foolish man
Now I'll have to request a computer ban
My narrator Chris mysteries:
Susan, Yes?
think I'm the highest
That ain't in the industry I remain private
Girl what you offer you know I'm the client
Listen to Drizzy or even Chris Brown so
I
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