Chris Brown

Chris Brown - Bomb lyrics

rate me

Feat. Wiz Khalifa

[Chris Brown]

All my ladies put ya hands up

All my ladies put ya hands up

If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb

Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb

Ladies put ya hands up if you that bomb-bomb

Girl you got that bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb

Oh me, oh my, body like a monster

Let me get inside if ya booty I’ma conquer

If ya question bout my size, I give you the answer

Girl you got that good good

I already know

Tell it by your size

I know you a dancer

Rein-derierre, I’ma call you Prancer

Booty paparaz, pose for the camera

All my ladies if you got it let me know

She thick in her hips, Cold than a motha

Licking her lips, a bad mothasucker

Apple looking so right, she make me want a piece

I give it to her all night, so she don’t wanna leave

If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb

Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb

Ladies put ya hands up if you got bomb-bomb

Girl you got that bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb

[Wiz Khalifa]

Something like a pimp, nothin’ like them other fellas

Heard that you the shit, girl we should blow up together

Ooh I know you got that bomb shit, call it 9/11

I’m just tryna beat it up, he could it acapella

We should go back to my crib, thats what I’ma tell her

Bring one or two of them, cause your friends looking kinda jealous

Rolling papers like propellors blowing mozarella

Lotta n-ggas in the club, who cares I’m the realest

Tell the waiters we gon need more cases

And when you think the money’s gone we spending more faces

She with homeboy, but she want this

6 cars, 8 chains, 3 cribs, 1 Wiz

[Chris Brown]

She thick in her hips, Cold than a mother

Licking her lips, a bad mothersucker

Apple looking so right, she make me want a piece

I give it to her all night, so she don’t wanna leave

If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb

Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb

Ladies put ya hands up if you got bomb-bomb

Girl you got that bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb

Hold up kimosabe, my crib look like a lobby

I’m in that black Bugatti

and I’m off that Carlo Rossi

I with that Taylor Posse

These ladies wanna party

And theres so much ice up on my neck it look like I play hockey

So hold up n-gga, stop me

All these haters watch me

I give her the pill and the D, you can call me cocky

Any stage or any beat you know I’ma body

And Wiz roll that good shit up and he riding shotty

She thick in her hips, Cold than a mother

Licking her lips, a bad mothersucker

Apple looking so right, she make me want a piece

I give it to her all night, so she don’t wanna leave

If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb

Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb

Ladies put ya hands up if you got bomb-bomb

Girl you got that bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb

<br />

<br />

Thanks to adrianna

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

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