Chris Brown - Stranger Things

Текст песни: [Verse 1: Chris Brown] Bottles in a bucket full of ice (yeah) Better make room, vroom, hear the Lambo (celebrate) Bitch, better believe that I'm a sniper (yeah) You know I'm 'bout to take you from your man though (celebrate) Pop up with the chopper at artificial n**gas actin' like bitches It done started up a epidemic It don't make a difference, n**ga we winnin', I'm plenty grinnin' Hundred million platinum, fuck it, you ain't gotta listen (celebrate) You better step down to me Feel the dick, bitch, open up your mouth for me Now choke, talk to the dick, honestly I'm dope, bitch, comin' like Eenie Meenie Miney Mo (celebrate) I don't like when I lose (I don't) If I don't buy her them shoes, I don't like those (regulate) Do anything that I want to Think I'm gon' dance on the moon like Michael (elevate) [Verse 2: Joyner Lucas &Chris Brown] While I'm drivin', I'm moonwalkin' in the sky with some shooters We jump inside of the Buick, you duck and hide from the Rugers A couple choppers, acoustic in the guitar with the music Guess I'm alive and I use it, get stuck inside of the cubics I never lie, but the truth is I'm fuckin' tired of these losers And all my life want the food when it's supper time and the juice But I'd rather die than to lose, it's a matter of time 'fore I lose it And strategize with the movement-t-t-t-t-t Walk in the trap like a boss, ooh Ho, you know I'm drippin' with the sauce, ooh Pretty, with a face full of scars All they did was build me up, try to take me apart They ain't ever wanna (celebrate) like you have a label Call the doctor, heard the chopper make 'em do the Macarena All you n**gas sweet as candy, chocolate chip and Now and Later Jolly Rancher, Snickers, bubblegum and watermelon flavored Get the paper, I'ma (celebrate) on the corner I heard you n**gas got the juice, but I got Corona I got a little Spanish bitch, I call her maricona Joyner Lucas, bitch, I'm hotter than a fuckin' sauna Yeah, I make you n**gas (elevate) All you new n**gas don't do it for me, look (woah) Bitch, I'm the professor, you a student to me, woah Designer shades on, like you cooler than me, wait (ayy) All we do is win, you a loser to me Rappers wanna talk about battle me (Joyner) You can't give me neck with a mouth full of cavities Bunch of lil' n**gas tried grabbin' me (grabbin' me) Five foot five, boy, you n**gas like half of me You don't wanna see the other side of me (yeah) Hard to make 'em happy, all these bitches stay mad at me I just might take her out to Applebee's (Applebee's) Give her long dick and a strawberry daiquiri [Verse 3: Chris Brown & Joyner Lucas] Order Cheesecake Factory, bubblin', why you mumblin'? What you utter? Stop stutterin', what you spend? Let me double it Lime green 'rari, two twins, call 'em double mints If all you pussy n**gas my kids, I'm in trouble then Shut up 'fore I spank you for actin' up Now I'm wakin' up in cabanas, 'cause bitches bad as fuck And all gorillas don't want bananas 'less your chain is tucked You wiggity-wack with the strap, you cross Chris, make you jump I criss-cross with the pump, ain't no bricks in the trunk Leave that shit for the chumps, I still get what I want Don't wanna believe in my mind, but you believe in my dump I'm takin' a knee for my side, could give a fuck 'bout they owners N**ga look at my eyes, you 'bout to give me my bonus And every motherfuckin' record, that's a hit, I record it (celebrate) And every motherfuckin' snitch up in this bitch, they report it (celebrate) You paid your way for this fade and can't even afford it Seventy-five mil', look at me now (celebrate) And all these bad bitches can't keep their feet down (elevate) You don't really wanna see Brown Need to stop all that shit talkin', put the seat down Joyner, I don't really feel these n**gas Hol' up, I ain't gotta pay to kill these n**gas Time is money, need to fuck around and bill these n**gas Vet, so I'm finna good will these n**gas (celebrate) I'ma drill these n**gas, I should grill these n**gas Take flex, Fresh Prince, Uncle Phil these n**gas Oh shit, I'm the shit, you could smell me, n**ga Break ribs, yeah, you don't want no real beef, n**ga I say As-salāmu ʿalaykum when I tear apart some bacon Hoe, you actin' like a pig, you fuckin' filthy, n**ga Now the police tryna lock me in the prison, said, "I'm guilty" I said, "Da da da da da, come and kill me, n**ga" [Verse 4: Joyner Lucas, Chris Brown & Both] They must have forgot that I'm psycho (jheeze) Oh, you want war? Say no more Turn your fuckin' block into a light show (Joyner) You better be sure, better be sure I'm the realest n**ga that I know And I'm so bored, I might switch cars I saved a lotta money on Geico (jheeze) The neighbors knockin' on my door, what the fuck you want? Bitch, I'm alright (jheeze) Listen, n**ga, mind your business, I'm so sick of n**gas Tellin' me how I been livin' my life (Joyner) Sick of bumpin' shoulders now I'm runnin' over Every motherfucker who ain't wanna get in my ride I was watchin', you was shoppin' Ain't never had the shit in my size Now I'm poppin', I'm poppin' And your bitch keep hittin' my line It's complicated, fuckin' up with my main bitch Givin' it to the side bitch at the same damn time Puttin' my face in it, never wastin' it I'ma lay in it, hit it, hit it one more time And then I'ma proceed and play with the pussy You know I don't keep my cape on a hoodie But I keep a Uzi, it's a doozie, make a movie if you're actin' So (celebrate)

PT5M0S True 2021-05-14 120 90
Chris Brown – Chris Brown belongs to the category of music geeks. Even as a child, he listened to his parents' soul records, and at ten-something he already perfectly learned to sing and dance, imitating Michael Jackson and Usher. At thirteen, young Chris caught the eye of Island Def Jam label employee Tina Davis, who introduced the boy to her bosses. They did not seem to mind signing the young talent, but the label then had no time for new names. In the end, Tina took over Chris's business with her own hands and eventually signed him to Jive Records. The debut made a splash - the single "Run It!" (a duet with rapper Julez Santana) climbed to the top of the Billboard 200 charts, and the unpretentious title "Chris Brown" peaked at number two and went double platinum in the US. –
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[Verse 1: Chris Brown]
Bottles in a bucket full of ice (yeah)
Better make room, vroom, hear the Lambo (celebrate)
Bitch, better believe that I'm a sniper (yeah)
You know I'm 'bout to take you from your man though (celebrate)
Pop up with the chopper at artificial n**gas actin' like bitches
It done started up a epidemic
It don't make a difference, n**ga we winnin', I'm plenty grinnin'
Hundred million platinum, fuck it, you ain't gotta listen (celebrate)
You better step down to me
Feel the dick, bitch, open up your mouth for me
Now choke, talk to the dick, honestly
I'm dope, bitch, comin' like Eenie Meenie Miney Mo (celebrate)
I don't like when I lose (I don't)
If I don't buy her them shoes, I don't like those (regulate)
Do anything that I want to
Think I'm gon' dance on the moon like Michael (elevate)

[Verse 2: Joyner Lucas &Chris Brown]
While I'm drivin', I'm moonwalkin' in the sky with some shooters
We jump inside of the Buick, you duck and hide from the Rugers
A couple choppers, acoustic in the guitar with the music
Guess I'm alive and I use it, get stuck inside of the cubics
I never lie, but the truth is I'm fuckin' tired of these losers
And all my life want the food when it's supper time and the juice
But I'd rather die than to lose, it's a matter of time 'fore I lose it
And strategize with the movement-t-t-t-t-t
Walk in the trap like a boss, ooh
Ho, you know I'm drippin' with the sauce, ooh
Pretty, with a face full of scars
All they did was build me up, try to take me apart
They ain't ever wanna (celebrate) like you have a label
Call the doctor, heard the chopper make 'em do the Macarena
All you n**gas sweet as candy, chocolate chip and Now and Later
Jolly Rancher, Snickers, bubblegum and watermelon flavored
Get the paper, I'ma (celebrate) on the corner
I heard you n**gas got the juice, but I got Corona
I got a little Spanish bitch, I call her maricona
Joyner Lucas, bitch, I'm hotter than a fuckin' sauna
Yeah, I make you n**gas (elevate)
All you new n**gas don't do it for me, look (woah)
Bitch, I'm the professor, you a student to me, woah
Designer shades on, like you cooler than me, wait (ayy)
All we do is win, you a loser to me
Rappers wanna talk about battle me (Joyner)
You can't give me neck with a mouth full of cavities
Bunch of lil' n**gas tried grabbin' me (grabbin' me)
Five foot five, boy, you n**gas like half of me
You don't wanna see the other side of me (yeah)
Hard to make 'em happy, all these bitches stay mad at me
I just might take her out to Applebee's (Applebee's)
Give her long dick and a strawberry daiquiri

[Verse 3: Chris Brown & Joyner Lucas]
Order Cheesecake Factory, bubblin', why you mumblin'?
What you utter? Stop stutterin', what you spend? Let me double it
Lime green 'rari, two twins, call 'em double mints
If all you pussy n**gas my kids, I'm in trouble then
Shut up 'fore I spank you for actin' up
Now I'm wakin' up in cabanas, 'cause bitches bad as fuck
And all gorillas don't want bananas 'less your chain is tucked
You wiggity-wack with the strap, you cross Chris, make you jump
I criss-cross with the pump, ain't no bricks in the trunk
Leave that shit for the chumps, I still get what I want
Don't wanna believe in my mind, but you believe in my dump
I'm takin' a knee for my side, could give a fuck 'bout they owners
N**ga look at my eyes, you 'bout to give me my bonus
And every motherfuckin' record, that's a hit, I record it (celebrate)
And every motherfuckin' snitch up in this bitch, they report it (celebrate)
You paid your way for this fade and can't even afford it
Seventy-five mil', look at me now (celebrate)
And all these bad bitches can't keep their feet down (elevate)
You don't really wanna see Brown
Need to stop all that shit talkin', put the seat down
Joyner, I don't really feel these n**gas
Hol' up, I ain't gotta pay to kill these n**gas
Time is money, need to fuck around and bill these n**gas
Vet, so I'm finna good will these n**gas (celebrate)
I'ma drill these n**gas, I should grill these n**gas
Take flex, Fresh Prince, Uncle Phil these n**gas
Oh shit, I'm the shit, you could smell me, n**ga
Break ribs, yeah, you don't want no real beef, n**ga
I say As-salāmu ʿalaykum when I tear apart some bacon
Hoe, you actin' like a pig, you fuckin' filthy, n**ga
Now the police tryna lock me in the prison, said, "I'm guilty"
I said, "Da da da da da, come and kill me, n**ga"

[Verse 4: Joyner Lucas, Chris Brown & Both]
They must have forgot that I'm psycho (jheeze)
Oh, you want war? Say no more
Turn your fuckin' block into a light show (Joyner)
You better be sure, better be sure
I'm the realest n**ga that I know
And I'm so bored, I might switch cars
I saved a lotta money on Geico (jheeze)
The neighbors knockin' on my door, what the fuck you want?
Bitch, I'm alright (jheeze)
Listen, n**ga, mind your business, I'm so sick of n**gas
Tellin' me how I been livin' my life (Joyner)
Sick of bumpin' shoulders now I'm runnin' over
Every motherfucker who ain't wanna get in my ride
I was watchin', you was shoppin'
Ain't never had the shit in my size
Now I'm poppin', I'm poppin'
And your bitch keep hittin' my line
It's complicated, fuckin' up with my main bitch
Givin' it to the side bitch at the same damn time
Puttin' my face in it, never wastin' it
I'ma lay in it, hit it, hit it one more time
And then I'ma proceed and play with the pussy
You know I don't keep my cape on a hoodie
But I keep a Uzi, it's a doozie, make a movie if you're actin'
So (celebrate)
























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