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Chris Brown - Real Hip Hop Shit 4 Lyrics

Feat. 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

Thanks to Rachel for correcting these lyrics
 

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