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lirik lagu nigga like me – siya

[pre-chorus: chris brown]
mo’ money mean mo’ problems
give a f-ck about you n-ggas
mo’ models, a hundred bottles
i’m stuntin’ on you n-ggas
we takin’ your girl
it’s me and my n-ggas
go figure, go figure
got ’em

[chorus: chris brown]
a n-gga like me
she really want a n-gga like me
a n-gga like me
she only want a n-gga like me
a n-gga like me
only want a n-gga like me
a n-gga like me
she said she like a n-gga like me

[verse 1: siya]
hol’ up, hol’ up
she really want a n-gga with some deep pockets
she really want a n-gga that be stuntin’
she really want a n-gga that’ll take her to the club
and buy bottle all night just enough for a n-gga
you really can’t afford her
i ride around in whips, that’s a porter
she know i’m gon’ spoil her
i’m a hood n-gga, and she love it
i came from the bottom but i been getting money
out the pen though i never leave the club without a chopper
good luck if a n-gga try and rob her
four chains on, i never touch sh-t in
fly -ss n-ggas all the hoes wanna f-ck with
i’m higher than heaven
i’m higher than heaven, i’m blowing jamaica
loud packs, shawty, i don’t never smoke vapors
start cuffin’ that b-tch ‘fore i take her

[chorus: chris brown]
a n-gga like me
she really want a n-gga like me
a n-gga like me
she only want a n-gga like me
a n-gga like me
only want a n-gga like me
a n-gga like me (look, haha)
she said she like a n-gga like me

[verse 2: chris brown]
you f-ck around and hate me i’ma take your b-tch
take your chain, n-gga, take your sh-t
i ain’t never ever been broke
f-ckin’ with amigo, spending those pesos, b-tch
put your hands up, n-gga, sit down
i box a n-gga with these six rounds
i ain’t gotta say two words
but when i pull up to the curb, you motherf-ckers just get down
wanna talk about money? huh
n-gga look at these hundreds
i could do it by myself, no help
n-gga, who runnin’?
look, chuck taylor’s make me run fast
left hook, click pow, that’s a gun jab, huh
and a n-gga wanna smile when you layin’ down
silly n-gga talkin’ sh-t, now he toe tag

[chorus: chris brown & (problem)]
a n-gga like me
she really want a n-gga like me
a n-gga like me
she only want a n-gga like me
a n-gga like me
only want a n-gga like me (what?)
a n-gga like me (shawty, yeah)
she said she like a n-gga like me

[verse 3: problem]
if you got a hot nine teach us
you motherf-ckers sure gon’ learn ’bout me
never low, yeah, i’m always high key
yo’ nine last time n-gga uses id
al-always real n-ggas in my background
fifty deep in the club, no pat downs (yeah)
lacin’ up shoes ’cause we runnin’ (we runnin’)
and my hoes ain’t runnin’ for nothin’ (what?)
’cause i am the man (man)
i am the man, i am the man (what?)
your homie, he ran
you think it’s a bed the way i would lie on his stand (what? woo)
for all of my fam (fam)
i done done it already
i see you love me already
she feel it all in her belly
this money is funny it’s scary
milk ’em no dairy
your boy get head bigger than berry
come on

- siya

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