Thursday, September 18, 2014

Chris Brown - Studio (Freestyle) Lyrics

Studio (Freestyle) Lyrics by Chris Brown

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I'm just sitting in the studio just trying to get to you, baby
But this song so fuckin' dope that its hard not for me to blaze it
But tell the truth, wish it was you, in this booth that i can play with

Let me see what i got

I be banging all on that beat
808, she got the bass when her booty shake
She got her friends with her
And they a sight to see
All that butt, don't let it go to waste

Got the Hennessy, the liquor, 'bout to penetrate
While I'm pushing Lamborghini's on the interstate
I long-stroke her, I'ma go for hours
You minute-made like lemonade
I'm fresh as hell in these Margielas
As i skate pass, better than veterans
Bi-polar cold, give me the medicine
My chain too bright
No time to set us in

When i pull it out, chick nervous
Better ride this wave. Chick, Surf it
Girl, you better keep them legs open
The only thing you close is them curtains
And she only got time for a brother if i take her out to eat
A brother really gotta motivate
Man, that's too much work for the kitty
I'ont work for the kitty, really don't communicate
I'd rather lick it like a dinner plate
I'd rather keep my money in a safe
Man, i ain't got time to play
I need it now, not a minute late

And she blowing up my line on the cellular
She wanna lock a brother down, on the regular
Talking crazy to me like she own it
But I don't trust her as far as I can throw her
Momma told me to find a keeper
But I switch like designer sneakers
A girl with the finest features
Every brother wanna talk to her
But I got her first. Finders-keepers

Violins in the back, is my theme music
Her booty on my mind, I dream booty
Any.. wanna .. my ..
Then its off with his head, how kings do it
My rings ruby
Red bandana, i stay woopin'
Got too many crips, i stay movin'
Three Lambos, i stay coupin'
Yeah, but you don't hear me though

Virginia to the Westside
My car foreign, the girl sit on the left side
Smokin' weed on the plane, that's the best high
Gotta sign the waiver 'fore I let her fly
It's helipads on the boat
Chilling in the South of France, Saint-Tropez. Mis Monaco
But nothing compare to what's in my pants
Girl, stop playing!

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