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remember me - chris brown & tyga lyrics

[hook: chris brown & tyga]
girl, you know we got the time
got that p-ssy on my mind, later on, what are we doing?
i know you’re ready, show that -ss
girl, you looking so bad, getting h-rny watching you do it
girl, i wanna kiss it
while you kissing your girlfriends
i wanna see a whole lot of l!cking, that’s a memory
yeah, bet i make that p-ssy remember me

[verse 1: chris brown]
ha, look, i be banging all on that beat
808, she got the b-ss when her booty shake
she got her friends with her and they a sight to see
all that -ss, don’t let it go to waste
all this hennessy, this liquor, ’bout to penetrate
while i’m pushing lamborghini’s on the interstate
i long-d-ck her, i’mma go for hours
you minute-made like lemonade
i’m fresh as f-ck in these margielas
i skate past, a n-gga better than veterans
bipolar cold, give me the medicine
my chain too bright, no thomas edison
when i pull it out, b-tch nervous
better ride this wave, b-tch, surf it
girl, you better keep them legs open
only thing you close is these curtains
and she only got time for a n-gga if i take her out to eat
a n-gga really gotta motivate
man, that’s too much work for the p-ssy
i don’t work for the p-ssy, n-gga really don’t communicate
ha, i’d rather l!ck it like a dinner plate
i’d rather keep my money in a safe
ha, b-tch, i ain’t got time to play
i need it now, not a minute late, ha

[verse 2: tyga]
bow your head to a king, n-gga
dreams house, my dreams bigger
got a deck of cards if my heart switch up
ace of spades, her eyes lit up
diamonds glitter in my car, thriller
she pray for me, that’s god willing
i’m hard to break, my bars prison
her new name, -ss-zilla
she love a n-gga and that p-ssy tight
come through, f-ck you all night
some foreplay, that’s all right
but she rather do number 69
high notes, it’s prime time
on a couch, hit it from behind
hit you with that large stroke
now she fiending for that good dope, yeah
ha, that’s my bae, she cook and clean, i got it made
handcuff like she a slave, touch ya, let ya tongue taste
so high, no ceiling sp-ce, numb to it, can’t feel her face
yeah, she numb to it, can’t feel her face

[verse 3: chris brown]
blowing up the line on my cellular
she wanna lock a n-gga down, on the regular
talking crazy to me like she own the d-ck
but i don’t trust her as far as i can throw the b-tch, ha
momma told me to find a keeper
but i switch like designer sneakers
a girl with the finest features
every n-gga wanna talk to her but i got her first, finders keepers
violins in the back, is my theme music
her -ss on my mind, i dream booty
any n-gga tryna f-ck my b-tch
then it’s off with his head, how kings do it
my rings ruby, red bandana, i stay wooping
got too many cribs, i stay moving
three lambos, i stay couping
ha, but you don’t hear me though
virginia to the westside
car foreign, the girl sit on the left side
smoking weed on the plane, that’s the best high
she gotta sign the waiver ‘fore i let her fly
helipad on the boat
chilling in the south of france, saint-tropez, nice, monaco
but nothing compare to what’s in my pants
girl, stop playing

- chris brown tyga lyrics

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