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Real Hip Hop #3 Lyrics :: Chris Brown | You can find many other song chords here
Real Hip Hop #3 – Chris Brown
Leather jacket, relaxing
The movie scenes I’m acting
These rappers practice
I’m at the plate, enough to bat b_tch
Fully smoking locomotive, n_gga, f_ck an adlib
In the club celebrating cause I’m self promoted
Is it a fire? Cause the crowd smoking!
Big Will, she off a pill.. rollin
You know a country n_gga hungry
Waffle house? Open!
But they too broke to pay their bills
So they’re freeloading
But it’s cool, sit down
You know that n_gga rich?
Girl his name.. Chris Brown
His chain’s so ugly that it makes a b_tch frown
I’m serving all these n_ggas
But who ordered hash browns?
N_gga, I be like.. yeah I got the check
And I just paid your bills, so.. yes
I want some sex
Hah! But first, can I kiss your neck?
And I’mma work you out
So you ain’t gotta stretch
Hold up! Let me slow up
Impregnate your beat, I make that b_tch blow up
I eat all I can eat
Until a n_gga throw up
I tell that DJ “ay! Pull up, pull up”
Man, I’m so sick of these lame motherf_ckas
A n_gga’s still sh_tting on the game, motherf_cka
Old n_ggas as the world change, muthaf_ckas
Y’all n_ggas still being the same muthaf_cka?
Who else, dawg?
Look, let me go in, then I count more ends
My tints 11, and your friends in my Benz
The engine on that Viper 220
And it’s green in the trunk, but that’s new money
Watch.. Frank Mueller, my Ruger
Cut that sh_t – fire. I just shot my jeweler!
Another hundred racks just to make my chain a cooler
Off that Four Loco, out of my medulla
Wow! I be seeing dead people
Dead prezzies my besties
N_gga, we are not equal
How you get the big picture
Looking from a peephole?
My real n_ggas in the back, but
“He ain’t talking to me tho!”
I know you mad cause I afford it
TMZ, I’m wiping my ass, so stop recording
Supposedly a singer, can’t do hip-hop
But I just killed this sh_t, so let the
Sh_t rock
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popular Chris Brown’s lyrics
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Real Hip Hop #3 Lyrics :: Chris Brown
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Real Hip Hop #3 – Chris Brown
Leather jacket, relaxing
The movie scenes I’m acting
These rappers practice
I’m at the plate, enough to bat b_tch
Fully smoking locomotive, n_gga, f_ck an adlib
In the club celebrating cause I’m self promoted
Is it a fire? Cause the crowd smoking!
Big Will, she off a pill.. rollin
You know a country n_gga hungry
Waffle house? Open!
But they too broke to pay their bills
So they’re freeloading
But it’s cool, sit down
You know that n_gga rich?
Girl his name.. Chris Brown
His chain’s so ugly that it makes a b_tch frown
I’m serving all these n_ggas
But who ordered hash browns?
N_gga, I be like.. yeah I got the check
And I just paid your bills, so.. yes
I want some sex
Hah! But first, can I kiss your neck?
And I’mma work you out
So you ain’t gotta stretch
Hold up! Let me slow up
Impregnate your beat, I make that b_tch blow up
I eat all I can eat
Until a n_gga throw up
I tell that DJ “ay! Pull up, pull up”
Man, I’m so sick of these lame motherf_ckas
A n_gga’s still sh_tting on the game, motherf_cka
Old n_ggas as the world change, muthaf_ckas
Y’all n_ggas still being the same muthaf_cka?
Who else, dawg?
Look, let me go in, then I count more ends
My tints 11, and your friends in my Benz
The engine on that Viper 220
And it’s green in the trunk, but that’s new money
Watch.. Frank Mueller, my Ruger
Cut that sh_t – fire. I just shot my jeweler!
Another hundred racks just to make my chain a cooler
Off that Four Loco, out of my medulla
Wow! I be seeing dead people
Dead prezzies my besties
N_gga, we are not equal
How you get the big picture
Looking from a peephole?
My real n_ggas in the back, but
“He ain’t talking to me tho!”
I know you mad cause I afford it
TMZ, I’m wiping my ass, so stop recording
Supposedly a singer, can’t do hip-hop
But I just killed this sh_t, so let the
Sh_t rock
view 523 times
popular Chris Brown’s lyrics
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