Chris Brown - Real Hip Hop sh** #4 lyrics

[Verse 1: Chris Brown] Do you think I give a f** what you think about me? I got my chin up, brother walking properly Almost got them papers so no coppers bother me f** walking on egg shells, father help me please I'm ducking slugs, I'm in higher water so they leech You got the game f'd up, but it's all G I choose it cause this music's therapeutic to my brain cells And when I'm stupid, yeah I lose it I don't think well Yeah, and for this moolah, I'm a road runner You can't stop the party, boy, you won't f** my fun up Might just have to call them boys then they gonna run up Pretty little face lift, yeah you getting done up I light a candle for the homies that's history You light a candle just to save electricity Let me calm down, I don't wanna get tazed, I just bought this outfit and these shades I'm balling hard n***a hit that replay and all my haters die slow and decay Look, leggo, give me four quarters and a few vitamin waters I guess to win in this game I just gotta f** reporters A n***a somersault naw, it's not what the doctor ordered Red shots is on your forehead, block 'em, they recording Now I'm on the west coast riding in that lolo With a couple k**ers who be hiding from the popo Know they got the best smoke, feel like you in slow mo But I don't smoke that sh** so no that wasn't no promo VA yeah we hard b**h Cause everywhere I go I feel like I'm a target I'm a star, you just start sh** Super hero switching fists like I'm Clark Kent [Verse 2: Kevin McCall] Superman that ho, check, look, see the way snakes double I guess you can say I'm tipsy I'm all about my hustle like my first name Nipsy Breezy brought me on, so I be wherever Chris be I'm the next to blow, believe it or not, Ripley's Biggest thing in LA how can you miss me? Tell the bank teller keep them hundreds extra crispy Cash rules everything around me I see your mouth moving but you ain't really saying sh** like the lip sync A lot of chicks on my teams so they call me coach My dick game got them bugging call them co*kroach How you fly as me? I don't fly coach n***a I'm sick so when I spit it's f**ing gross That's dope, n***a that's dope Iced in the b**h but I ain't never seen the slopes Californication, I'm repping the West coast East side, young n******gs, my cousins are straight locs