Chris Brown - Real Hip Hop sh** #3 lyrics

Leather jacket, relaxing The movie scenes I’m acting These rappers practice I’m at the plate, enough to bat b**h Fully smoking locomotive, n***a, f** 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***a 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***a rich? Girl his name.. Chris Brown His chain’s so ugly that it makes a b**h frown I’m serving all these n***as But who ordered hash browns? n***a, I be like.. yeah I got the check And I just paid your bills, so.. yes I want some s** 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**h blow up I eat all I can eat Until a n***a throw up I tell that DJ “ay! Pull up, pull up” Man, I’m so sick of these lame motherf**as A n***a’s still sh**ting on the game, motherf**a Old n***as as the world change, muthaf**as Y’all n***as still being the same muthaf**a? 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** – fire. I just shot my j**eler! 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***a, we are not equal How you get the big picture Looking from a peephole? My real n***as in the back, but “He ain’t talking to me tho!” I know you mad cause I afford it TMZ, I’m wiping my a**, so stop recording Supposedly a singer, can’t do hip-hop But I just k**ed this sh**, so let the sh** rock