Bomb (Feat. Wiz Khalifa) (Prod. By Free School) (исполнитель: Chris Brown)
[Chris Brown] All my ladies put ya hands up All my ladies put ya hands up If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb Ladies put ya hands up if you that bomb-bomb Girl you got that bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb Oh me, oh my, body like a monster Let me get inside if ya booty I’ma conquer If ya question bout my size, I give you the answer Girl you got that good good I already know Tell it by your size I know you a dancer Rein-derierre, I’ma call you Prancer Booty paparaz, pose for the camera All my ladies if you got it let me know She thick in her hips, Cold than a motha Licking her lips, a bad mothasucker Apple looking so right, she make me want a piece I give it to her all night, so she don’t wanna leave If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb Ladies put ya hands up if you got bomb-bomb Girl you got that bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb [Wiz Khalifa] Something like a pimp, nothin’ like them other fellas Heard that you the [bad word] girl we should blow up together Ooh I know you got that bomb [bad word] call it 9/11 I’m just tryna beat it up, he could it acapella We should go back to my crib, thats what I’ma tell her Bring one or two of them, cause your friends looking kinda jealous Rolling papers like propellors blowing mozarella Lotta n-ggas in the club, who cares I’m the realest Tell the waiters we gon need more cases And when you think the money’s gone we spending more faces She with homeboy, but she want this 6 cars, 8 chains, 3 cribs, 1 Wiz [Chris Brown] She thick in her hips, Cold than a mother Licking her lips, a bad mothersucker Apple looking so right, she make me want a piece I give it to her all night, so she don’t wanna leave If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb Ladies put ya hands up if you got bomb-bomb Girl you got that bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb Hold up kimosabe, my crib look like a lobby I’m in that black Bugatti and I off that carlo Rossi I with thta Taylor Posse These ladies wanna party And theres so much ice up on my neck it look like I play hockey So hold up n-gga, stop me All these haters watch me I give it up, your in the deep, you can call me [bad word] Any stage or any beat you know I’ma body And Wiz roll that good [bad word] up and he riding shotty She thick in her hips, Cold than a mother Licking her lips, a bad mothersucker Apple looking so right, she make me want a piece I give it to her all night, so she don’t wanna leave If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb Ladies put ya hands up if you got bomb-bomb Girl you got that bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb