[Verse 1: The Game, Chris Brown]
Stepped off of that G6
Hit the club on that G shit
You see the belt, that's a G, bitch
And I'm 'bout to kill Chief Keef shit
Just killed my nigga Meek shit
Then I killed my nigga French shit
Got a French bitch, no friendship
And she givin' my dick a French kiss (Yeah)
A fuck nigga, that's that shit I don't like
Arm hangin' out the window
Of that black Ghost with them chrome pipes (Woah-oh)
Tell them niggas it's gon' be a long night (Woah-oh)
Bitches wanna chill, we gon' need some more ice (Ayy)
Shout out to John Wall, man, that nigga nice (Ayy)
Club leanin', nigga, we gon' need some more Sprite (Woah-oh)
Real nigga in these Ray-Bans
Fuck the judge, we don't take stands (Woah-oh)
Tape Feds, we don't shake hands
Put a gap in your mouth, Strahan (Ayy)
Hundred racks in these cargos
Push the button, these cars go (Ayy)
Six cradle that 'Lago
Six spades, Black Card, ho (Woah-oh)
Got homies out in Chicago
With that full clip on that bullshit
Dang nigga, that's Rozay
Movin' packs on 'em in MJs
I got a thick bitch with a thin waist (Ayy)
Got a condo where somethin' slim stay
Got a Rolex Presidente (Ayy)
Got black diamonds, Kunta Kinte (Woah-oh)
Hot boy like Turk and them
Hot wheels, we swervin' them
Next year we gettin' Deron Williams
Gon' do LeBron like Dirk and them (Yeah)
Stepped off of that G6
Hit the club on that G shit
You see the belt, that's a G, bitch
And I'm 'bout to kill Chief Keef shit
Just killed my nigga Meek shit
Then I killed my nigga French shit
Got a French bitch, no friendship
And she givin' my dick a French kiss (Yeah)
A fuck nigga, that's that shit I don't like
Arm hangin' out the window
Of that black Ghost with them chrome pipes (Woah-oh)
Tell them niggas it's gon' be a long night (Woah-oh)
Bitches wanna chill, we gon' need some more ice (Ayy)
Shout out to John Wall, man, that nigga nice (Ayy)
Club leanin', nigga, we gon' need some more Sprite (Woah-oh)
Real nigga in these Ray-Bans
Fuck the judge, we don't take stands (Woah-oh)
Tape Feds, we don't shake hands
Put a gap in your mouth, Strahan (Ayy)
Hundred racks in these cargos
Push the button, these cars go (Ayy)
Six cradle that 'Lago
Six spades, Black Card, ho (Woah-oh)
Got homies out in Chicago
With that full clip on that bullshit
Dang nigga, that's Rozay
Movin' packs on 'em in MJs
I got a thick bitch with a thin waist (Ayy)
Got a condo where somethin' slim stay
Got a Rolex Presidente (Ayy)
Got black diamonds, Kunta Kinte (Woah-oh)
Hot boy like Turk and them
Hot wheels, we swervin' them
Next year we gettin' Deron Williams
Gon' do LeBron like Dirk and them (Yeah)
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