Chris Brown – Loyal (East Coast version) Lyrics

Produced By: Nic Nac
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[Intro: Lil Wayne & Chris Brown]
YOUNG MULA BAAAAY-BAY! (Let me see)
Haha, you thought it was over? (Let me see)

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
I wasn't born last night
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
But I don’t fuck with broke bitches


[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 the Bob Marley I’m a Rasta
She wanna do drugs (drugs) smoke weed, get drunk (wasted)
She wanna see a nigga trap
She wanna fuck all the rappers (uh-huh)


[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: French Montana]
HAH! Once Cirocs in the system
Ain’t no telling will I fuck them, will I diss them
That’s what they be yelling, I’m a pimp by blood
Not relation, I don’t chase em, I replace em
(HAH!)
LVs, Hermes, Dolces
Them hoes, ain’t loyal, man, they rotate

School me to the game, now I know my duty
Put her in the Lotus
She was riding in that hoopty (WHOOP!)

Fuck that bitch
I got my own ho
Fuck your weed
I got my own smoke

Had to put my mink back on
Tell that bitch, put her ring back on
Montana

[Verse 5: Chris Brown]
Come on, come on, girl
Why you frontin’?

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 frontin’?
Baby show me something

You done spent your bread on her
And it’s all for nothing (yeah, yeah, yeah)


[Hook]

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