| Tell me what have I done
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| To cause you grieving, baby
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| 400 barbells ain’t heavy as these
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| I play my tape on them niggas, make heaven for G’s
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| Uh seven seas, we deeper with one speaker to run
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| Your nuns either we done, we from the bleachers
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| You can see us we center in the arenas we winners
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| Your bench? |
| Need to suspend em throughout the season
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| We. |
| gold boss you lost, stop competing we large
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| We go hard seven days, you a weekend nigga uh
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| Trying to link with niggas, trying to buy links with niggas uh
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| Eat a link 'fore your teeth be in the sink nigga
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| Niggas in sync like N-sync, with niggas, niggas
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| Get your shit back in pocket, need a brinks, need a sweet
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| Batch of beats and a million to compete
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| From the west, need a bulletproof vest on the beach
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| Bobby Brown
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| I used to like Madonna, now I like Fiona
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| Swimming in Vienna, screaming Beni-Hana
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| Not your kemo-sabe, know the Dalai Lama
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| Sipping on Saki, chilling with your mama
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| Growing marijuana, yes I am a farmer
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| Breeding all these strains then I push it on the corner
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| Uh the lonely stoner, put you in a coma
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| Jim told me homie owe me 40 in the morning
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| Pouring out a little liquor for my dead folk
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| Slice it with a sickle it’s similar to the pen stroke
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| I been broke but I make it so let’s go
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| Trench coat all up in your end zone 10 strong
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| Jumping on your chest til your head blown up
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| Clutch keep your mouth sewn shut
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| Bobby Brown
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| I’ve been known to clown around, hang around underground spitters
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| It’s time y’all keep an eye on the kid like babysitters
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| Oh, the major league heavy hitters; |
| grand slamming
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| Look I was getting bored with this game; |
| backgammon
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| I’m back blam-blamming, they keep pulling me back in
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| Oh, Inglewood’s finest minus the mac-10, No
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| All I need is my mind I’m fine I’ma clap
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| Toss him inside a coffin, talking like they want action
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| Nah, they don’t want it, what for?
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| It sucks for, rappers after us 4 we bust raw
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| Rocking for heads like Mt. Rushmore, that’s what all the fuss for
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| Heavy on the track, train niggas how to rap
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| Get it? |
| Nah they won’t get it til they wig splitted, dummies
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| Walking round rocking that Gumby
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| Bobby Brown
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| All beef disintegrates when we create the masterpiece
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| Fire up competition like digits to blast the heat
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| Cause in my presence y’all peasants and I’m your majesty
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| Y’all court jesters of this industry it’s sad to see
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| I lay my game down cause shit just ain’t the same now
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| Refuse to be devoured got soul power like James Brown
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| Mad cause I came round, rocked spots in your same town
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| After we hit the stage, no one recalls your name now
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| The world’s my playground, economy’s in recess
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| The policy is respect, we clowning all the rejects
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| If this shit was a game then you’d probably press the reset
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| Schooling on this console and I ain’t reach my peak yet
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| Yeah I hear talking but all I’m hearing is weak threats
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| I can’t take all the credit cause y’all niggas in deep debt
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| Bobby
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| Tell me what have I done
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| To cause you grieving
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| And make you wanna leave me this way |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bobby Brown , by - Blu. Song from the album Good to Be Home, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп