Remember Me lyrics

[Hook: Chris Brown & (Tyga)]

Girl you know we got the time

Got that pussy on my mind

Later on, what are we doing?

I know you're ready, show that ass

Girl you looking so bad, getting horny watching you do it

Girl I wanna kiss it, while you kissin your girlfriends

I wanna see a whole lot of licking, that's a memory

(Yeah, bet I make that pussy remember me)

[Verse 1: Chris Brown]

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-dick her, I'ma go for hours

You minute-made like lemonade

I'm fresh as fuck in these Margielas

I skate past a nigga better than veterans

Bipolar cold, give me the medicine

My chain too bright, no Thomas Edison

When I pull it out, bitch nervous

Better ride this wave - bitch, surf it

Girl, you better keep them legs open

The only thing you close is these curtains

And she only got time for a nigga if I take her out to eat

A nigga really gotta motivate

Man, that's too much work for the pussy

I don't work for the pussy, nigga really don't communicate

I'd rather lick it like a dinner plate

I'd rather keep my money in a safe

Bitch, I ain't got time to play

I need it now, not a minute late

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Tyga]

Drive your head to a king, nigga

Dream house, my dream's bigger

Got a deck of cards if my heart switch up

Ace of spades, her eyes lit up

Diamonds glitter in my car, thriller

She pray for me, that's god willin

I'm hard to break my boss prison

Her new name : Ass-Zilla

She love a nigga and that pussy tight

Come thru, fuck you all night

Some foreplay, that's all right

But she rather do number 69

High notes, it's prime time

On a couch, hit it from behind

Hit you with that large stroke

Now she fiendin' for that good dope, yeah

That's my bae, she cook and clean and I got it made

Handcuff like she a slave, touch ya, let ya tongue taste

So high, no ceiling space

Numb to it, can't feel her face

Yeah, she numb to it, can't feel her face

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Chris Brown]

Blowing up my line on the cellular

She wanna lock a nigga down, on the regular

Talking crazy to me like she own the dick

But I don't trust her as far as I can throw the bitch

Momma told me to find a keeper

But I switch like designer sneakers

A girl with the finest features

Every nigga 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 nigga tryna fuck my bitch

Then its off with his head, how kings do it

My rings ruby

Red bandana, I stay woopin'

Got too many cribs, I stay movin'

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

Smokin' 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!

[Hook]

• Artist:Chris Brown
• Album:"Fan Of A Fan: The Album" (2015)