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on the nose with a boop
Scoring always makes me want to eat that wanton soup
Soaring in a mood look at me now, wow
Bustin a rhyme like Chris Brown, wow
More in
riding in a coupe only one bitch fit
Picked yo hoe up to go get lunch from Ruth Chris
Rolling up za za always smoking on some new shit
Bitch this ain’t
the script
Whatever the traitors name
My aim is dunk em like
I'm Chris Webber

So many phony smilin' faces
Traces of slander
Got em comin' outta funny
broke em all down and we all got high
And niggas don't be trippin don't be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like
be trippin dont be doin no drive-bys
Cause we dont gangbang, dont wear blue or red
We like that fuckin green, papers what I said
Big Moe wassup, in
Chris Brown moves

I'm just doin my thangs 아직까지 기억해 
듣곤 했던 rap songs now they call it boom bap
Wu-tang, gang starr, biggie and pac
새로 태어났지 I was like
of this brown sugar
Yeah, So Ima give em what they asking for
Black don't crack no wonder they always ask for more
Yeah, I'm just sticking to the basics
Now
Hamburger Helper 
Nigga you want to take us like desert sketch, I leave you scared
Nigga I got a partna by the name of Chris, that's Redd
People say I got
you emotionally unavailable (Damn)
I've never been in this situation before
Got my friends warning me
Got me bumping Chris Brown's old jams 7 days
thang
I don't gang-bang but I bang-bang
I pull up to the club, I got on eight chains
Took that bitch to Wings-N-Things, she wanna be my main

Brown
Little brown boy little brown boy tell me what you gonna do if dem come for you
Little brown boy little brown boy tell me what you gonna do if dem
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
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
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
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
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
Turn up the sound 
High in the moon 
I feel like chris brown 
All these hoes on my dick 
They lookin for sum clout
They keep blowin my phone
Ima laylow
some tracks
With my beats mixed with some made by himself
Oh shit yes mine were made by myself
Bitch you listening this is Mr. Chris reppin hotline
Took karate, mommy told me, "Tyler toughen up"
Rihanna haircut, somebody tell Chris Brown to fuck me up
Had to teach the bitch manners, now I gotta
[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
the smoker.
Drooling as that juicy pig turned golden brown.
The neXt thing I know she was ordering by the pound

She likes the smoked brisket     Wouldn’t miss
your stomach
Then i go 6 rounds with your woman
She think i'm Chris Brown tell her run it
You know what it is
No remote i'm controlling your chick
I have
some news
don't ever let him down Mrs. Brown
your husband is so proud now, you always followed the rules
Pick up the pieces
how did you grow? How are you
my momma close
To dyin' while we broke a youngest child
I always listened to my father when he spoke
Because he'd been through it all
A Chris Paul

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