Artist: Chris Brown Album: Boy In Detention (2011) Title: Real Hip Hop Shit
Lyrics Real Hip Hop ShitFeat. K-Mac & 9th Wonder
Did you think I give a fuck what you think about me? I got my chin up brother walking properly Almost out them papers ,your coppers bother me Fuck walking on egg shells, Father help me please I'm ducking slugs, I'm in high water so they leech You got the game f-ed up but it's all g I choose it cause this music's therapeutic to my brain cells And when I'm stupid yeah I lose it I don't think well Yeah, and for this moola I'ma road runner You can't stop the party boy you won't fuck my fun up Might just have to call them boys then they gonna run up Pretty little face lift, yeah you getting done up I light a candle for the homies that's history You light a candle just to save electricity Let me calm down, I don't wanna get tased I just bought this outfit and these shades I'm balling hard nigger hit that replay And all my haters die slow in decay Look, let go, can't fight the feeling
Give me 4 quarters and a few vitamin waters I guess to win in this game I just gotta fuck reporters A nigger sell my soul nah, that's not what the doctor ordered Red shots is on your forehead, blocka, they recordin' Now I'm on the west coast, riding in that low-low , With a couple killers who be hiding from the po-po , Know they got the best smoke, feel like you in slow mo But I don't speak that shit so know that want no promo VA yeah we hard bitch, cause everywhere I go I feel like I'm a target I'm a star, you just start shit Super hero switchin' fits, like I'm Clark Kent Superman that hoe, check, look
See the waitress making double I guess you can say I'm tipsy I'm all about my hustle like my first name Nipsy Breezy put me on so I be wherever Chris be I'm the next to blow believe it or not, Ripley Biggest thang in L.A. how can you miss me? Tell the bank tell them keep the hundreds extra crispy Cash move everything around me, I see your mouth movin' but you ain't really saying shit like the lip sync A lot of chicks on my team so they call me coach My dick game got the bugging call it cockroach How you fly as me? I don't fly coach Nigger I'm sick so when I spit it's fucking gross That's dope, nigger that's dope, icy than a bitch And I ain't never seen the slopes Californication, I'm repping the west coast East side, young niggers, my cousins are straight locs Can't fight the feeling, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Thanks to Andrei |