Cry Baby Cry [Acoustic Version]

Lyrics

[Intro: Chris Brown] Oh-woah Yeah Look [Verse 1: Chris Brown] Actin' all sadity when a nigga in your city Fame goin' to her head, thankful I ain't buy them titties And I don't pillow talk with a ho, that's a no no In the mornin', Shade Room, she be tellin' all your business And now I got a couple chickens that I'm flyin' out the coop Got some niggas that can fight, got some killers that can shoot And bitches all on my 'Gram, I'm tryna make a hundred million Got bitches on top of bitches, I'm stackin' 'em to the ceilin' (Baby, baby) Always a nigga tryna hate on me And every time we pull a burner on 'em, they want peace Bad bitches see the ice, they wanna skate on me I hit the G with my D, now she won't leave But I don't trip, I just let her stay and sip codeine You know she can give me head, but she can't smoke my weed In that penthouse suite, I'm the man with the models And we don't fuck with you, nigga, we know you tell on your partners, ow! [Chorus: Chris Brown] We always fussin' and arguin', then we kiss and make up And every time I go out with my homies, I'ma have the party lit, goin' way up But why you actin' so surprised? I gave you my heart, girl, I put it right in front of you Told some lies Now we in the club tryna socialize [Verse 2: YoungBlacc] Look, look Now these bitches wanna show's up 'Cause they see me on the road and I'm jewelled up And all these bitches on my line like they know us But I don't want your pussy, I'ma let the crew fuck you up She so with it, my bitch bad, she gon' get it Her lil' sister, she thick now, need those digits This money comin' so quick now, need more spinach We turn a bitch to a bust down if Chris hit it And I ain't never 'bout to save no bitch But if she bringin' back money, we gon' all get rich I need a new whip, new chain, talkin' 'bout the rap game Keep a bitch ten toes down, I'm speakin' facts, mane And you won't ever 'bout to break my niggas And all this money, I'm about to fresh to death my bitches This the West Coast trap game, hit 'em on the crack cane Spendin' young money and shit, call me Mack Maine [Chorus: Chris Brown, Young Lo] We always fussin' and arguin' (Woah, yeah), then we kiss and make up (Oh) And every time I go out with my homies, I'ma have the party lit, goin' way up (Yeah) But why you actin' so surprised? (Oh, baby) I gave you my heart (Yeah), girl, I put it right in front of you (You) Told some lies (Now we) Now we in the club (Yeah) tryna socialize (Look) [Verse 3: Young Lo, Chris Brown, Young Lo & Chris Brown] 'Fore she used to be a solid bitch, but now she fuckin' with my tolerance (Yeow!) Like I ain't the nigga that's bringin' dollars in (Ow!) Took her from that regular life to livin' extravagant Now you wanna flex on a nigga like you the baddest bitch (Ow!) OHB, that's outta here, bitch, I got some new freaks Porsche 911, sittin' pretty on them new feet Too geeked, fucked for a hour, then let the crew skeet (Oh) Cosey got four on the way while I got two suites Black nigga in white linen with white women And I ain't trippin', I like women that like women Ooh, baby, they all losers, we like winnin' If I kill the pussy, baby, that's a life sentence Greenlight, yeah, that's night vision (Woo!) Hi-Tech, yeah, I like sippin' (Woo!) Sold dope for them gold ropes, I like pitchin' (Woo!) Whippin' the block in four pots (Ah!), this my kitchen Fuck with us (Oh) [Chorus: Chris Brown] We always fussin' and arguin' (Yeah), then we kiss and make up (Oh, no, no, no) And every time I go out with my homies (Yeah), I'ma have the party lit, goin' way up (Why) But why you actin' so surprised? I gave you my heart, girl, I put it right in front of you Told some lies Now we in the club (Yeah) tryna socialize [Verse 4: Kevin Gates, Chris Brown] Big buck, bitch teeth crooked, I ain't let her suck it (Uh-huh) And I ain't payin' for the Uber, never told her that I love her (Fuck out) Kick her out mad every night, she go and get her brother (Yeah) Locked up with the reds, you know I watched a nigga fuck her Dawg, I go hard, I am all of the above Shoulder playin' slingin' rods, I am all of the above (Bop-bop) I be solo in the game, I be whippin' up in Ranges Name's holdin' weight, kickin' fly conversation Took a plane when it came, I ain't doin' no complainin' He don't wanna front it, I'ma take it when I'm aimin' (Give it up) I move real cool, handle business like a gangster Like shoes on the 'Vette, that's a Lamb' to the jakes I be workin' out, wearin' slay ups doin' reps Like the bench press, killer stayin' in your chest (Boom-boom-boom) No one came in, flip it for another set Street certified, real nigga with respect (Ooh) [Chorus: Chris Brown] We always fussin' and arguin' (Fussin' and arguin'), then we kiss and make up And every time I go out with my homies, I'ma have the party lit, goin' way up (Ooh) But why you actin' so surprised? I gave you my heart (My heart), girl, I put it right in front of you (My heart) Told some lies Now we in the club (Ooh) tryna socialize