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chris brown - only (funk flex freestyle) lyrics

[intro]
lemme see, okay, i got something

[verse 1]
caught a contact high
i’m runnin’ record labels ’til my contract bought
all in favor for this new sh-t, say aye
i’m a man, you a mannequin, don’t f-ck with fake guys
hold up, n-gga dope like a n-gga slang pies
a n-gga slang wood, she gon’ feel it in her pipes
if the p-ssy good, get the ding-a-ling twice
’cause my chain put them other p-ssy n-ggas on ice
i eat her booty, give the p-ssy hickies
licky, licky, lookin’ for a booty like nicki’s
drum roll when i stick d-ck on top of t-tties
and your n-gga ’bout to finish in a matter of minutes, i’m winnin’
i’m settin’ world records, they should put me in guinness
i’m ’bout to put my whole leg in it when i’m finished
she got me on my third leg in the ninth innin’
but when she kiss the head, my god, i’m finished
she got the body of a model, when i’m sippin’ on the bottle
i’m about to spend the money on her
when she givin’ me the neck, she gon’ really get the check
get the check like a money order
got the colombianas in the kitchen
workin’ with the soda, i ain’t talkin’ ’bout coca-cola
and all this money to the ceilin’, i ain’t worried ’bout the world
’cause i got it sittin’ on my shoulder
i don’t f-ck with you, p-ssy boy
i’m just f-ckin’ your p-ssy, n-gga
your b-tch finna wire me my money right now
you paid for it, i’m the bookie, n-gga
a hundred rounds comin’ out the barrel of the drum
a cold n-gga, your b-tch f-ckin’ with a winner
said she like f-ckin’ with a rich n-gga
every day christmas but i f-ck her in december
i don’t f-ck with your life, n-gga
you can’t f-ck with these nikes, n-gga
i put your b-tch in all white, n-gga
and she do that sh-t you don’t like, n-gga
ha, more liquor, now your b-tch about to suck it
she givin’ head to my n-ggas while i’m f-ckin’
i got my timberlands on with a bucket
blowin’ up her phone, she gon’ pick up when i’m comin’
ha, what you mean, we gon’ talk out?
my n-gga, we don’t talk it out, my n-ggas with the sh-ts though
boy, you better walk it out before my n-ggas stomp you out
lil’ homie got the pistol
ha, i’m takin’ shots at the bar
after that, my n-ggas takin’ shots at your car
i don’t f-ck with you, b-tch n-gga
i just f-ck with your b-tch, n-gga

- chris brown lyrics

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