Lyrics

Chris Brown & Tyga – Remember Me Lyrics

(Chorus – Chris Brown)
Girl you know we got that time
Got that pu**y on my mind
Later on what are we doing?
I know you’re ready, show that ass
Girl you’re looking so bad
Getting horny watching you do it

Girl I wanna kiss it
While you kissing your girlfriends
I wanna see a whole lot of licking
That’s some memory
Bet I make that pu**y remember me

(Verse 1)
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 ass, don’t let it go to waste
All this Hennessy, the liquor, ’bout to penetrate
While I’m pushing Lamborghini’s on the interstate
I long-d**k her, I’ma go for hours
You minute-made like lemonade
I’m fresh as f*** in these Margielas
As I skate pass, better than veterans
Bipolar cold, give me the medicine
My chain too bright, no Thomas Edison
When I pull it out, b***h nervous
Better ride this wave – b**ch, surf it
Girl, you better keep them legs open
The only thing you close is these curtains
And she only got time for a ni**a if I take her out to eat
A ni**a really gotta motivate
Man, that’s too much work for the p****
I don’t work for the pu**y, ni**a really don’t communicate
I’d rather lick it like a dinner plate
I’d rather keep my money in a safe
B**ch, I ain’t got time to play
I need it now, not a minute late

(Repeat Chorus)

(Verse 2)
Drive your head to a king, ni**a
Dream’s house, my dream’s bigger
Got a deck of in my Cap switch up
Aces spades, turn eye, let up
Diamonds glitter in my car, thriller
She pray for me, that’s god
I’m hard to break my boss prison
Her new name Ass-Zilla
She love a ni**a and that p**** tight
Come thru, f**k you all night
Some four plate, that’s all right
But she rather do number 69
Hot it’s prime time
On a couch, hit it from behind
Hit you with that large stroke
Now she for that good dope, yeah
That’s my bae, she cooking clean
Now I got it made, handcuff like she a slave
So high, no ceiling, space
Numb two
Yeah, she numb two

(Repeat Chorus)

(Verse 3)
Blowing up my line on the cellular
She wanna lock a ni**a down, on the regular
Talking crazy to me like she own the di**
But I don’t trust her as far as I can throw the b***h
Momma told me to find a keeper
But I switch like designer sneakers
A girl with the finest features
Every ni**a wanna talk to her
But I got her first, finders keepers
Violins in the back, is my theme music
Her ass on my mind, I dream booty
Any ni**a tryna f**k my b***h
Then its off with his head, how kings do it
My rings ruby
Red bandana, I stay wooping
Got too many cribs, I stay moving
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
Smoking weed on the plane, that’s the best high
She gotta sign the waiver ‘fore I let her fly
It’s helipads on the boat
Chilling in the South of France, Saint-Tropez, Nice, Monaco
But nothing compare to what’s in my pants
Girl, stop playing

(Repeat Chorus)