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don't fuck with us - chris brown lyrics

[verse 1]
look, i ain’t really with the talkin’, b-tch i’m really ’bout that action
i’m runnin’ up a ticket and f-ckin’ b-tches in traffic
got a hundred million dollars, i could give a f-ck about a hater
oh, they be with the snitchin’ and b-tchin’, they like investigatin’
ain’t tryna run down with that 4, let your homie know
all my n-gg-s strapped like gi joe, man you n-gg-s toast
all you n-gg-s p-ssy, lyin’, claimin’ you a real n-gg-
when we pull up and press your line, then we see who the real b-tch is

[hook]
and i’m just tryna pay no mind, won’t waste my time
won’t give it all to a f-ck n-gg-
don’t wanna show ’em the thriller, n-gg- don’t make me a killer
you all pitchin’, we all hitters, don’t f-ck with us
[verse 2]
i got too many felonies, my po keep tellin’ me
to p-ss in a cup, don’t give a f-ck, i’m ’bout to smoke my weed
plottin’ in the club, man i wish a n-gg- plot on me
thinkin’ you gon’ ball, i’mma slide, you gon’ rest in peace
i got a couple fans in my hand right now
me and all my homies, know these b-tches only f-ck with gs
now i can see why you hatin’ me
all these b-tches in the back of vip, made that p-ssy leak
i can’t give that hoe a place to sleep, but that p-ssy free
f-ckin’ with my woods, throwin’ ps, in london, gettin’ p
i’m just throwin’ on that project pat, [?]
shoutout my n-gg- juicy j, know i keep that drink on me
all the baddest b-tches know

[hook]
won’t waste my time
won’t give it all to a f-ck n-gg-
don’t wanna show ’em the thriller, n-gg- don’t make me a killer
you all pitchin’, we all hitters, don’t f-ck with us

[verse 3]
a n-gg- a savage
any car that you thought ’bout buyin’, i had it
my b-tches the baddest
any hoe that you thought about f-ckin’, i smashed it
you spendin’ paper and plastic
always tryna come up on a plug
run a check up like i run her up
b-tches love f-ckin’ with a thug
ohb, only hot b-tches
out here ballin’, too much confidence
100 b, ain’t no stoppin’ this
out here brackin’, you need binoculars
see my team, diamonds immaculate
sing sing, send ’em packages
bang bang, in the line of fire
then them n-gg-s come after ya

- chris brown lyrics

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