Yellow Tape (Letra) – Chris Brown
Letras da musica:
Wait a sec, wait a minute
Don’t compare me to them other niggas
Never fear, Smith & Wesson
I’m about to go to war, gon’ pleasure bitches
Where the real friends at when you really need ‘em?
When I was locked up in the county, I ain’t even see ‘em
I got my own lane, lonely
What happen to the bitches in the party?
A 100 bottles that was every weekend
Bitches bodied in my crib like the Colosseum
After 3 AM, you know we getting freaky
Hella one night stands, we just catching feelings
Tired of the fake loving
Fake Hollywood, fake passion
Fake gang banging and they claiming on pop shit
Fake titties and cocaine in they nostrils, I be cryin’
Too with it, nigga, bring a bottle
And if it’s my time to go, I’m taking everybody
Don’t care, my nigga, we shootin’ anybody
And if it ain’t your girl, then nigga, don’t worry about it
I hear ‘em talking down on me, down on me
But where they at when I ain’t got a 100 rounds on me?
I think I had it up to here, my niggas
You know your killers, they fear my niggas
So what you tryna tryna do, tryna tryna do?
Dancing round the issue, bitch you know you’re running out of moves
I keep it real my nigga
This Richard Mille hella clear, cost a mil my nigga
Yeah, give a fuck about how you feel, my nigga
Got the mic at the horror room and we feel like thriller
Passive aggressive bitches always acting all timid
But hope you make no money, but I rather help you spend it
Had a meeting with the devil last week
Couldn’t believe what he said to me
To take this contract, signature please
You can have it all, but you know your soul, I’ma keep that
Bad luck, bad luck, yeah you know it come in threes
Bet I never did this, I’m the only one who sees
I’ve got the fire blazing, burning all the weed
I think this hell ain’t hotter than this fucking Hennessy, yeah
Two feet off the ground, oh oh, like
Why am I living here?
Up and down, up and down
I think I might drown from my tears
I cry
Just might being sold
Too many tears, I’m thinking ‘bout ending here
Wanna prepare brought your roulette with the pistol
Bang, bang, bang, hear the sirens say
Wahyo, wahyo, wahyo, get behind the yellow tape
Bang, bang, bang, hear the sirens say
Wahyo, wahyo, wahyo, get behind the yellow tape
Bang, bang, bang, hear the sirens say
Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, get behind the yellow tape
Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, don’t shoot, don’t shoot, get behind the yellow tape
Wonder if God got a sense of humor
I hope you know that he can see all the shit you doing
My mama said no matter how that he still listen to me
Taking temptation and fornication, you know I love the pussy
Mister assume there no connection, it was all assumptions
She just wanna fuck
Whatever happened to us love making?
You don’t wanna be in the club