Chris Brown
Chris Brown - D.g.i.f.u. songtekst
Je score:
[Verse 1: Tyga] Ya'll know me, the still same OG, young T-Y-G Hated on by most these niggas But I still keep shittin' on niggas lowkey I don't fuck with you to the third degree I keep a G, DMV, you owe a three Schemin' on the low, tryna make a nigga profitly All I do is get money, fuck, and sleep I should run for mayor Been runnin' shit, you barely maintainin', bitch No, this ain't no (?) shit Break a neck on some Busta shit (?) shit I be on til infinity Don't predict, bitch, what I'm gonna do Cause chances are I've outdone you And most of my so called enemies Spit your game, talk your shit Grab your gat, call your clique Ball so hard I don't need the assist I'm the best so I keep that shit Nigga, you should too If you knew what this game'll do to you Look at bullshit that I've been through This the drive through and shit on you [Hook: Tyga] Don't get it fucked up Yesterday was the freshest nigga in America I swear to God I ain't lyin', bruh, I ain't lyin' bruh In America Don't get it fucked up Niggas talkin' bout oh shit I pull up like oh shit Now look whose talkin', bitch Now look whose talkin', bitch, yeah Don't get it fucked up I do this shit for my, I do this shit for my Do this shit for my loved ones Don't get it fucked up I do this shit for my, I do this shit for my I don't trust niggas, I only trust funds nigga [Verse 2: Chris Brown] Nowadays everybody wanna talk like they got somethin' to say But nothin' comes out when they move they lips This extended clip will make Buddha shit Shawty comin' and pullin' up with them hooter tips Never use a nigga, but she abuse the dick I let the pussy let the air drop We in a boat, nigga, right off the coast European or Caribbean, I'm sweatin' on hair dye So don't get it fucked up I got a handful of matches, fuckin' with a bad bitch All my niggas is savages, better loc up Damn ,it's a tragedy, all of these casualties Metal through his body, nigga, check his anatomy, oh shit Why you pillow talkin'? That's ho shit Nigga, you a geek, still talkin' 'bout me fucking yo' bitch I can't lie, can't lie I got a bunch of bad hoes and a wife on the side I believe I can fly, I'm the shit now Wanna be like Mike when I die Step right up, can't name any nigga that can fuck with us I'mma bring the pain, we gon' be the game-changers All in your face, I'm bustin' nuts [Hook] [Verse 3: Pusha T] Did ya'll think I would let my dough freeze? Ho, please! Better bow down on both knees Who you think taught you to throw P's? Who you think taught you to rap keys? Dress (?) Phillip Limb, SLP's Like Snoop D-O-double G Nigga murda was the case so motherfuck the police Ya'll niggas soft like Emojis, with the heart eyes Ya'll part skies, ya'll cloud killas We aimin' niggas, my soldiers blacker than apartheid We coupe niggas, you niggas riding four doors Like Uber nigga, we pilin' all of your whores On the canopy my stamina be Enough for Pamela Anderson Lee My Katy Perry ain't afraid to carry That shit you sniff, Taylor Swift Niggas talk yet it remains a myth I never seen it, they only dream it They rap about it, do interviews With they toy cars and they little jewels [Hook:]