tyga - i'm so raw lyrics
“i’m so raw”
(with chris brown)
[chorus:]
look,
i’m so raw,
turn the oven on,
chef papa john,
i get the parmesan,
[verse 1:]
she want ah yellow n-gg-,
corn on the cob,
indian giver,
slob on my kn-b,
the b-tch blow hard,
harder than some halls,
here take ’em all
you’ll be straight in the morn’,
i’m two piece gone,
i’m never gon’ call,
fly n-gg-, i don’t wear it if it’s in the mall,
seen it on the blog,
these motherf-ckers cost,
yves saint laurent,
you can tell by the font,
i do what i want,
wake up when it’s lunch,
walk like i’m drunk,
swagger so uh,
gold yard trunks go around i got a bunch,
tell till u safe b-tch get up out my stuff,
i wouldn’t recommend,
you to ever check um in,
i started with the end,
so where do i begin?
[chorus:]
i’m so raw,
turn the oven on,
chef papa john,
i get the parmesan,
[verse 2:]
pocket full of paper under age in casino,
you wanna see id, oh
but i’m in the suite though
here my room key go,
room move in slow mo,
fans want a photo,
but it’s my turn to roll,
hold up baby hold those,
you see i’m chillin’, dolo,
lens with a logo,
pinky-ring, frodo
i’m feelin’ myself no ho-ho-ho-h-m-
hold the beat pour that more ro-ro-ro-roso
rose, you bozos,
couldn’t speak what i’m on,
you would need rosetta stone,
all these n-gg-s all clones,
we be originals,
young money seminals,
tribe full of generals,
don’t ask me sh-t unless it in ah interview, n-gg-,
unless it’s in a interview,
don’t talk to me, i’m not your friend,
i’m just a fan,
of a fan,
i love all my fans though
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