MSR Studios in New York City, New York - Bomb lyrics

[Intro: Wiz Khalifa & Chris Brown] Yeah, it's your n***a young Khalifa man, Chris Breezy All my ladies put ya hands up, yeah, Taylor Gang All my ladies put ya hands up You know we uh, have to pa** them some papers on this one [Chorus: Chris Brown] 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 [Verse 1: Chris Brown] Oh me, oh my, body like a monster Let me get inside, ya booty, I'mma conquer Ain't no question 'bout my size, I'll 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'mma call you Prancer Booty paparazzi, pose for the camera All my ladies, if you got it, let me know [Pre-Chorus: Chris Brown] Shawty thick in her hips, cold than a mother Licking her lips, a bad mothers**er Apple looking so ripe, she make me want a piece I give it to her all night, so she don't wanna leave [Chorus: Chris Brown] 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 [Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa] Something like a pimp, nothing like them other fellas Heard that you the sh**, girl we should blow up together Ooh I know you got that bomb sh**, call it 9/11 I'm just tryna beat it up, he could do it acapella We should go back to my crib, that's what I'mma tell her Bring one or two of them cause your friends looking kinda jealous Rolling papers like propellers, blowing mozzarella Lotta n***as in the club, who cares? I'm the realest Tell the waitress, uh, we gon' need more cases And when you think the money's gone, I'm spending more faces She with homeboy, but she want this 6 cars, 8 chains, 3 cribs, 1 Wiz [Pre-Chorus: Chris Brown] Shawty thick in her hips, cold than a mother Licking her lips, a bad mothers**er Apple looking so ripe, she make me want a piece I give it to her all night, so she don't wanna leave [Chorus: Chris Brown] 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 [Verse 3: Chris Brown] Hold up kimosabe, my crib look like a lobby I'm in that black Bugatti and I'm off that Carlo Rossi I with that Taylor Posse, these ladies wanna party And there's so much ice up on my neck, it look like I play hockey So hold up n***a, stop me, all these haters watch me I give her the pill and the D, you can call me co*ky Any stage or any beat, you know I'mma body And Wiz roll that good sh** up and he riding shotty [Pre-Chorus: Chris Brown] Shawty thick in her hips, cold than a mother Licking her lips, a bad mothers**er Apple looking so right, she make me want a piece I give it to her all night, so she don't wanna leave [Chorus: Chris Brown] 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 [Outro: Wiz Khalifa] Yup, so when your good smell like that good weed man Blame it on me, don't even blame Breezy man, blame that sh** on me man, yup