Текст Chris Brown – Loyal (West Coast Version)
Текст:
Intro: Lil Wayne & Chris Brown
YOUNG MULA, BABY!
(Haha, you thought it was over?)
Verse 1: Lil Wayne
I know these hoes ain’t right
But you was blowing up her phone last night
But she ain’t have her ringer nor her ring on last night, oh
Nigga, that’s that nerve
Why give a bitch your heart
When she rather have a purse?
Why give a bitch your inch
When she rather have nine?
You know how the game goes
She be mine by half time, I’m the shit, oh
Nigga, that’s that nerve
You all about her, and she all about hers
Birdman Junior in this bitch, no flamingos
And I done did everything but trust these hoes
(CB fuck with me!)
Hook: Chris Brown
When a rich nigga want you
And your nigga can’t do nothing for ya
These hoes ain’t loyal
These hoes ain’t loyal
Yeah, yeah, let me see
Bridge: Chris Brown
Just got rich
Took a broke nigga’s bitch
I can make a broke bitch rich
Verse 2: Chris Brown
Got a white girl with some fake titties
I took her to the bay with me
Eyes closed smoking marijuana
Rolling up that Bob Marley, I’m a rasta
She wanna do drugs, smoke weed, get drunk
She wanna see a nigga trap
She wanna fuck all the rappers
Hook
Verse 3: Chris Brown
Black girl with a big booty
If she a bad bitch, let’s get to it (right away)
We up in this club
Bring me the bottles
I know girl, that you came in this bitch with your man
That’s a no-no girl
All this money in the air
I wanna see you dance
Bridge
Hook
Verse 4: Too Short
A nigga fell in love
Turn into a woosy
24-7 he was eating that pussy
But these hoes ain’t faithful
A nigga like me will have your bitch on tape though
I been knowing not to trust these hoes
I get bread, get head, and fuck these hoes
In that order
Don’t switch it around
Relationships change, it’s so different now
No high-school sweetheart
These bitches pimpin’
All these opinions
Women on women
Lickin’ them titties
Sex in the city
Hella «Instagram likes» but you ain’t pretty
Bitch!
Verse 5: Chris Brown
Come on, come on, girl
Why you fronting?
Baby show me something
When I call her, she gon’ leave
And I bet that bottom dollar she gon’ cheat
Come on, come on, girl
Why you fronting?
Baby show me something
You done spent your bread on her
And it’s all for nothing
Hook