[Chris Brown]
Bottles and a bucket full of ice (yeah)
Better make room, vroom hear the lambo (celebrate)
Bitch better believe that I'ma sniper (yeah)
You know I'm about to take you from your man tho (so celebrate)
Pop up with the chopper and artificial niggas acting like bitches done started up a epidemic
It don't make a difference, nigga we winning,I'm plenty grinning
A hundred million platinum fucking you ain't got to 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, comming me like eenie meenie miney mo (celebrate)
I don't like when I lose, if I don't buy for them shoes, I don't like those (regulate)
Do anything that i want to it, think I'm gonna dance on the moon like Michael (elevate)
[Joyner (Chris Brown)]
While I'm driving, I'm moon walking in the sky
Say shooters be jumping inside the buick
Be ducking [?] rugers
A couple choppers, acoustic and the guitar
When the music is I'm alive and I used to get stuck inside of the cubics
I never lie with the truth
I'm so fucking tired of these losers
And all my life, wanted the [??] 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
Walk in the trap like a boss, ooh
Hoe, you know I'm dripping with the sauce, ooh
Pretty with a face full of scars, all they do is build me up
Try to take me apart. They don't never want to (celebrate)
Like you have a label call the doctor heard the chopper make 'em do the macarena
All you niggas sweet as candy, chocolate chip and I relate to Jolly Ranchers, stick to bubblegum and watermelon flavored
Get the paper i'ma (celebrate)
On the corner
Heard you niggas got the juice, but I got Corona
Got a little spanish bitch that I call, my maricona
Joyner Lucas, bitch, I'm hotter than a fucking sauna
Yeah, I make you niggas (elevate)
All you new niggas don't do it for me, look
Bitch, I'm the professor, you a student to me (woah)
Designer shades on, like you cooler than me (wait)
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' niggas tried grabbing me
Five foot five, boy, you niggas like half of me
You don't wanna see the other side of me
Hard to make 'em happy, all these bitches stay mad at me
I just might take her around to Applebee's
Give her long dick and a strawberry daiquiri
[Chris Brown & Joyner Lucas]
All the Cheesecake Factory bubbling, why your mama leave?
Watch you utter, stop stuttering
Watch you spin, let me double it
Lime green 'Rari, two twins, call 'em double mints
If all you pussy niggas my kids, are in trouble then
Shut up before I spank you for acting up
Now I'm [??], bitch she bad as fuck
And don't go without bananas, unless your chain is tucked
You wiggity-wack with the strap
You cross criss, 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 mom, but you believe in my dump
I'm taking a knee for my side, could give a fuck 'bout their owners
Nigga, look at my eyes, you 'bout to give me my bonus
And every motherfucking record is a hit, if I record it (celebrate)
And every motherfucking snitch up in this bitch, they reported (celebrate)
You paved your way for this fade, and can't even afford it
Seventy-five mill, 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 talking, put the seat down
Joyner, I don't really feel these niggas
Hol' up, I ain't gotta pay to kill these niggas
Time is money, need to fuck around and bill these niggas
Vet, so I'm finna good will these niggas
I'ma kill these niggas
I should grill these niggas
Take flex, Fresh Prince, Uncle Phil these niggas
Oh shit, I'm the shit, you could smell me nigga
Brake ribs, yeah, you don't want no real beef, nigga
I say Asalam Alaikum when I tear apart the bacon
Hoe, you acting like a pig, you fucking filthy, nigga
Now the police tryna locking up in the prison, said I'm guilty
I said da da da da da, come and kill me nigga..
[Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown]
They must've forgotten I'm pyscho
Oh you want war? Say no more
Turn your fucking block into a light show
You better be sure, better be sure
I'm the realest nigga, and that I know
And I'm so bored, I might swtich cars
I'm saving a lotta money on Geico
And neighbors knocking on my door, what the fuck you want?
Bitch, I'm Irak
Listen nigga, mind your business, I'm so sick of niggas tryna be how I've been living my life
Sick of rubbing shoulders, now I'm running over every motherfucker who ain't wanna get in my ride
I was watching, you was shopping
Ain't never had the shit in my side
Now I'm popping, I'm popping, your bitch keep hitting my line
It's complicated, keep fucking up with my main bitch, giving it to the side bitch at the same damn time
Put it my face, never wasting 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 give a uzi, it's a doozie, make a movie if you're acting so (celebrate)
