Lyrics Kevin McCall – I’m Fucked Up
Text:
Cyeah, it’s me and C Breezy
You know, okay I’ll admit it, we fucked up
I’m in the club, fuck about a service
I take my own shots, Texaco berence
Spilling Ace of Spades on the carpet, but it’s on purpose
My house look like a circus, dick look like a serpent
This look like a movie, one take, no rehearsing
She twerking it for this money so I feel like she deserve it
I’mma put my thing down, she took it and reverse it
Like I miss it, I’m pissy like I got a weak bladder
Tipsy off this Cristy, nigga it don’t even matter
Boy I’m loco, cuckoo
Call me Sub Zero cause I’m so cold
Ha, you see that booty? She could make a fortune
No wonder her body cold cause she drop dead gorgeous
You don’t get it? You slower than a motherfucker
Dummy, I’m rolling so I’m on than a motherfucker
I’m fucked up, I’m brain dead
Walking round like the club like I don’t know what day it is
I’m high, higher than a plane bitch
Walking round like the club like I don’t know what day it is
Monday I be balling, Tuesday I be balling
Wednesday I be balling, man these bitches keep on coming
Thursday I be chilling, but Friday I be killing
Saturday and Sunday, that’s the motherfucking weekend
Chris Brown:
Look, yeah, cause I’m smoking super fire from my lighter
I want her with the stripes cause I know that she a tiger
Engine growling like a bitch so I pull up right beside her
150 grand chain, what you doing ho?
Two girls in the bed, guess I’m 2-0
Gold wrappers, better wrap it like a tuna roll
Yep, your body ain’t bad girl you’re beautiful
Yikes, my watch only cost your car though
Three girls, your dog and a pack of smokes
Ha, my roof what? Alligator bitch
I’m stunting in the club like I don’t know what day it is
Yeah, these little mamas in pyjamas
And I’m in this club huh, and it feel like the Bahamas
Bad bitches in the front and the boom’s right behind us
I’m super fucked up, hey I’m just being honest, yikes
I’m fucked up, I’m brain dead
Walking round like the club like I don’t know what day it is
I’m high, higher than a plane bitch
Walking round like the club like I don’t know what day it is
Monday I be balling, Tuesday I be balling
Wednesday I be balling, man these bitches keep on coming
Thursday I be chilling, but Friday I be killing
Saturday and Sunday, that’s the motherfucking weekend
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