Chris Brown feat. Tyga, Kevin McCall and Erin Christine - Deuces (Remix)
Song lyrics
What you mean I ain't call you? I hit you when I landed,
I'm waitin' in my hotel room.
Seems like we're arguin' more and it's gettin' less romantic;
Yeah, I think she'll be able to tell soon,
But I'll fuck you right, I will,
I fuck you right, I will,
I'll fuck you like no one has ever, ever made you feel,
I mean this part of our relationship's amazing still.
I might just put up with the arguin' and stay, for real,
You lookin' bad, girl, for goodness sakes,
You with all those curves, and me without no brakes.
I'm willin' to work it out however long it takes you,
You feel like you miss those happy days, well, girl, that makes two of us.
Our timin' is wrong,
Your friends always tyin' up every line on your phone,
Yeah, but tell them bitches that you'll always be my missus,
And the hardest part about the fuckin' business is mindin' your own.
And every time I try and break it off,
We just yell until we tired then I break you off,
It's useless all this fightin', let's get past it now,
Even when I throw them deuces, you just send it back around.
[T.I.:]
Your wrist and fingers glisten, ice cold like Michigan,
Look at what we livin in, here we go with this again:
I just keep on talkin, but I guess that you ain't listenin,
Rather run around with them nothin' ass bitches, then
Go on, got me hot, smokin like a chimney,
We used to be best friends, now it seems we finna be enemies.
Deep inside it's killin me, but soon its gon' be killin you
To see her in that two seater, now that's gon' hurt your feelin's, boo.
Ah ha, didn't you think you would be over me?
By now so you go sleepin with them clowns, they are no relief,
She spoke her piece, I know, capisce,
So love must be let go, released
Into the wind, again, again, and deuces, I must throw ya peace.
[Kanye West:]
You know what, yo? You a bitch,
You should have a travel agent, ‘cause you a trip,
You should make your own toilet tissue since you the shit,
But all you got is some fuckin' issues, you fuckin' bitch!
I hate niggas, but I love your mom,
Give her a kiss for me, her second son.
Get your mind right, baby, or get your shit together,
You gonna be hot a little while, I'ma be rich forever.
Girl seducers, they come in deuces,
But when I cut ‘em off, they always become a nuisance.
Niggas take my old flows and they take my old swag,
He just took my old bitch and turn it to his new bitch.
I'm stupid but I won't get my drama on,
What I'm dealin' with is too real for me to comment on;
Jay finally got it through my head not to run my mouth,
So when you talk ‘bout “you know who” I don't know who you talkin' ‘bout.
[Fabolous:]
Accordin' to my old bitch, I be on some new shit,
She was on some old shit, now I got a new bitch.
Think, I give two shits? You ain't gonna do shit,
Meet my two fingers, intro-deuces;
If you knew better, you'd do better,
Wanna get the middle finger, but I got two better.
[Chris Brown:]
So you gonna diss me even though you know it's wrong,
Know you gonna...
[Drake:]
...miss me a little when I'm gone.
[Fabolous:]
Drizzy voice. Now I'm ghost, baby,
Four door rizzy Royce,
Tryna work it out, might be a bad business choice,
I'm ‘bout my business, boys, plus I make paper,
Come on, that's old news, yesterday's paper.
Oh, you talkin', what about?
If it ain't how I kept you studded out,
You might as well shut cha mouth,
You'll never score another me, I'll shut it out,
Act like there's gum in your hair, girl, cut it out.
[Rick Ross:]
Got a pocket full of hundreds,
She the only one is missin',
Got a bucket full of ice,
And a watch to go with it,
Got a racin' Lamborghini,
Have my homies scared to drive,
Haters better put their head down, they know that boy be fly;
All the charter planes,
Now I'm talkin' ballers slang,
R-O-Z-A-Y on that wall in the hall of fame.
I let my denim sag,
Red Louis belt,
How can you love me baby? First, you gotta love yourself.
[André 3000:]
The farewell e-mail from a female,
But I'm a playa, ain't gonna tell you all the details.
What it entails is hard to say like sellin' seashells
By the seashore, but she's not a bore
But neither a whore who needs to know more,
The kind you can't ignore but want to open the door for
Or run in your favorite store and leave
With all them shoppin' bags and half of it ain't yours.
I did things for, ain't rich, ain't poor,
I want it to do more but, hell, I just ain't know her
Well enough to know if this is all she came for,
But enough to know tonight excited she came four
Times to my cousins house to see if I was there.
Getcha minds out the gutter, man,
We out here tryna have a good time,
And here I am, all heavy with the words where.
Somebody that's a nerd, likely fast forward,
But shit, they asked for it.
It's hard to throw up them deuces ‘cause when you know it's juicy,
You start to sound like Confucius when makin' up excuses,
Chase the cabooses until the track gone,
I gotta find me a new locomotive,
Stop makin' sad songs.
[Chris Brown:]
I'm on some new shit,
I'm chuckin' my deuces up to her,
I'm movin' on to somethin' better, better, better.
No more tryin' to make it work,
You made me wanna say bye-bye, say bye- bye, say bye-bye to her, to her.
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