n#gg#s in Paris (Freestyle) Lyrics – Young Chris
Singer: Young Chris
Title: n#gg#s in Paris (Freestyle)
Ball so hard, muthaf**kas wanna fine me
These n***as can’t find me, cause I’m probably in the air
Cuttin’ through the clouds in a Lear G-5′in
B*t*h n***a, we mobbin’
Rich n***a, we buyin’, any b*t*h we wanna
And it go ‘room when I hit that corner in a batmobile
Strapped for real, bullets hit ya head, make ya head go still
N***as always ask why you rap so real
Cause I be in the trap sellin’ crack on pills
Got them racks on ill, money so sick
I don’t give a f**k who you run and go get
Ross bought a boat cause I wanna go fish
With his all yellow Rollie got these n***as so p*ssed
Sh*ttin’ on these n***as where my toilet
Jordan’s, you ain’t never seen ‘em cause I’m ballin’
Boy the sh*t I’m spitting be so retarded
Cause I don’t even write I’m just recording
Got an AP, Rolex, Cartier to the Hublot
I ain’t even have to hit the bank
I bought this sh*t from a few shows, with a new ho in my view so
Beautiful, I see a few hoes
Anchorman, that forecast
I say it’s coming and they move the snow
Ha, got a young b*t*h look like Nicki tho (Nicki tho)
I said could ya keep a secret just like Vicki tho
I let her sip Ciroc and hit the sticky tho
Told her she can kiss my neck but just don’t give me no hickies ho
Cause my baby momma be trippin’
All these wheels I be whippin’
All this paper I be gettin’
I be dunkin on ‘em: Blake Griffin
N***a, I got now, you got no!
No W’s for the loser’s tho
All this ice like a jewelry show
Ride through slow like a funeral
Look at my neck, take a look at my wrist
Look at my pockets, take a look at my b*t*h
Let me take ‘em way back
Thinkin’ like ’86, all eyes on me
When I step up in the club I’m feelin’ like Rich
Porter that is, I slaughter that b*t*h
Don’t touch that work, I order that sh*t
I wouldn’t give a damn, what corner that is
If they cop that work, I’m goin’ to that b*t*h
Wit’ a whole sack, no rap, weed, pills, dope, crack
Drop it right on ‘em like “hold that”
Feds takin’ pictures like Kodak
Tappin’ my phone, watching my home
They watchin’ me and I’m watching the throne?
She suckin’ me and I’m watching the dome
Perc in my system and I’m in the zone, yeah, I’m gettin’ gone
Phantom, Ghost, like I’m chasin’ Pacman
All this money on my mind, you see it in my catscan
N***a
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Lyrics Young Chris – n#gg#s in Paris (Freestyle)
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