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chris brown - bitches lyrics

[hook]
i don’t need no n-gg-s in my section
all b-tches, all b-tches, all b-tches, all b-tches ah
i don’t need no n-gg-s in my section
all b-tches, all b-tches, all b-tches, all b-tches ah

[chris brown]
higher than the moon, n-gg- what up
they ain’t worth it, n-gg- need to shut up
fallin in the p-ssy, face down in the b-ttuck
it ain’t sh-t to her, me im just a f-ck up
f-ck a hand shake n-gg- we ain’t brothers
on that west side where they reppin for they colors
if you talking big sh-t, then my d-ck will make you stutter
all up in your face like its (…)
right now, make her scream my name and pipe her right down
nasty i’m a king b-tch, give a n-gg- a wipedown
twenty four b-tches, i’m rolling on chrome
my n-gg-s are smoking on that loud
b-tch try to flunt, imma blow your back out
i ain’t thinking bout a n-gg- that walk past you
b-tch stole my blunt and said she love my tatoos
i’m that dude, i slang wood, that bamboo
but when she driving on that d-ck she a d-mn fool

[hook]
i don’t need no n-gg-s in my section
all b-tches, all b-tches, all b-tches, all b-tches ah
i don’t need no n-gg-s in my section
all b-tches, all b-tches, all b-tches, all b-tches ah
all these b-tches i don’t wanna see no n-gg-s
all these b-tches i don’t wanna see no n-gg-s
really really though, i don’t wanna see no n-gg-s
all the real real n-gg-s that pour sh-t up already with us

[chris brown]
it’s a habit, in the club bottle magic
f-cking with these ratchets no purses they got baskets
its a hand out, b-tches(…)guess they addicts
and i ask them are you in like patrick
playing with the p-ssy like it’s madden
fire like a dragon
one say she like me then they all bandwagon
been leadin as hoes, but they pretty like a pageant
she said she’d let me cut, i had to stab it, fo real though

[tyga]
audemar, big b-tch, big b-tch, big tipper
supper club, 20,000 for the liquor
you see the b-tch i’m with, you’ll probably never get her
never cop bottles, with broke n-gg-s
in the corner, post it up(or pour sh-t up), what the dome give her
money flowin like a wet p-ssy, thats a long river
so you got your b-tch on lock, i’ll slim jim her
it’s that time of the month f-ck timber
all my n-gg-s got a bottle with a blunt lit up
before you pop up, throw your set up
(hop in this b-tch, lights lit up?), leave with her, a big spender, (b-tch shut up?)
(…)illuminati all through your body
she blow me like a twelve gang shawty you feel me
pull up in the ‘rari, the f-ckin life of the party
i’m getting hoes regardless
before this rap sh-t, i’m honest

- chris brown lyrics

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