Tyga
Bitches
[Chorus: Chris Brown]
I don't need no n***as in my section
All bitches, all bitches, all bitches, all bitches, ah
I don't need no n***as in my section
All bitches, all bitches, all bitches, all bitches, ah (Hahaha, look)

[Verse 1: Chris Brown]
Higher than the moon, n***a, what up?
I hear 'em wolfin', a n***a need to shut up
While I'm in the pussy, face down and the butt up
You ain't shit to her, and me, I'm just a fuck up
Fuck a handshake, n***a, we ain't brothers
On that Westside where they reppin' for they colors
Talkin' big shit 'cause my dick'll make you stutter
All up in your face like it's butter, nutter
Right now, make her scream my name and pipe her right down
Nasty on the dick, bitch, give a n***a a wipe down
Twenty-four inches, I'm rollin' on chrome, my n***as are smokin' on that loud
Bitches try to flaunt, huh, I'ma blow they back out
I ain't thinkin' 'bout a n***a, walk past you
Bitch stole my blunt and said she like my tattoos
I'm that dude, I slang wood, that bamboo
But when she drop it on the dick, she a damn fool

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
I don't need no n***as in my section
All bitches, all bitches, all bitches, all bitches, ah
I don't need no n***as in my section
All bitches, all bitches, all bitches, all bitches, ah
All these bitches, I don't wanna see no n***as
All these bitches, I don't wanna see no n***as
Really, really though, all these bitches, I don't want no n***as
'Cause the real n***as posted up already with us (Huh, yeah)
[Verse 2: Chris Brown]
This a habit, in the club, I do magic
Fuckin' with these ratchets, no purses, they got baskets
It's a handout, these bitches high fiendin', guess they addicts
And I ask them, "Are you in like Patrick?"
Playin' with the pussy like it's Madden, fire like a dragon
If one say she like me, then they all bandwagon
Cheerleadin' ass hoes, but they pretty like a pageant
She said she'd let me cut, I got to stab it, for real though

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
I don't need no n***as in my section
All bitches, all bitches, all bitches, all bitches, ah
I don't need no n***as in my section
All bitches, all bitches, all bitches, all bitches, ah
All these bitches, I don't wanna see no n***as
All these bitches, I don't wanna see no n***as
Really, really though, all these bitches, I don't want no n***as
'Cause the real n***as posted up already with us

[Verse 3: Tyga]
Ha! Audemars, big bitch, big tipper
Supperclub, twenty thousand for the liquor
See the bitch I'm with, prolly never get her
No comp' bottles, they for broke n***as
Been the corner posted up with the dome giver
Money flowin' like wet pussy, that's a long river
So you got your bitch on lock? I slim jim her
It's that time of the month, fucktember
All my n***as got a bottle with a blunt lit up
Throw your cup up, throw your set up
High in this bitch 'til the club lights lit up
Leave with her, big spender, a bitch shut up, ha!
T-Killuminati all through your body
She blow me like a twelve gauge shotty, you feel me?
Pull up in the 'Rari, the fuckin' life of the party
I'm gettin' hoes regardless, before this rap shit, I'm honest
[Chorus: Chris Brown, Tyga]
I don't need no n***as in my section (Ha)
All bitches, all bitches, all bitches, all bitches, ah (Yeah)
I don't need no n***as in my section
All bitches, all bitches, all bitches, all bitches, ah
All these bitches, I don't wanna see no n***as
All these bitches, I don't wanna see no n***as
Really, really though, all these bitches, I don't want no n***as
'Cause the real n***as posted up already with us