Ali Bomaye lyrics

by

Chris Brown


[Intro: The Game]
Get my people out them chains, n*gga
I mean handcuffs, time to man up
Put my hands up? f*ck you sayin', bruh?
'Cause I'm a black man in a Phantom
Or is it 'cause my windows tinted?
Car cost 300 thou' and I blow Indo in it (2 Chainz!)
You mad 'cause your daughter f*ck with me on spring break
Well, I'ma f*ck her till the springs break

[Verse 1: 2 Chainz]
Yeah, roll another one 'cause I'm winnin'
In my four-door, lookin' real photogenic
Gentleman attire, in threads that won't expire
I'm in a class of my own, my teacher got fired
Money gettin' long, pus*y rate keep risin'
Versace outfit cost me 3,000
From the P houses, did it from the wee hours
Sellin' that chicken; no lemon pepper, no sweet and sour
First you get the power, then you get respect
I'm gettin' so much money I can buy your b*tch
Take it how you wanna, if you wanna take it
I like clubs where all the women workin' naked
Fell in love with a waitress—what the f*ck I'm thinkin'?
Bought that ho a ring, it was for her pinky
Uhn, that's pimpin', that's slick
Got a bottle of cologne that cost more than your rent
[Verse 2: The Game]
f*ck y'all mad at me for? Got a black card and a black Phantom
With a white b*tch in Idaho, I do the same thing in (Montana)
Got a thick b*tch in Atlanta, got a redbone in the Chi
Got two chains, they two-tone, two hundred racks, no lie

[Chorus 1: The Game]
Ali Bomaye! Ali Bomaye!
I'm 'bout to rumble in the jungle in these new Kanye's
Ali Bomaye! Ali Bomaye!
My lawyer threw them gloves on and beat another case

[Verse 3: The Game]
f*ck y'all mad at me for, 'cause my belt got two G's on it?
Her bag got two C's on it? My daughter's stroller got D's on it?
Free Big Meech, free Boosie and C-Murder
Like New Orleans, like Baltimore, come to Compton you'll see murders
And my AR see murders, that's beef, n*gga; no burgers
I'm insane and you Usain, n*gga better turn on them burners
Got coke swimmin' in that glass jar, b*tch, go turn on them burners!
Got dope to sell in this hotel, no half price, no retail
You a b*tch n*gga; no female, I smack n*ggas; Sprewell
I'm on the block like D12, I got the white; no D-12
Like a little n*gga in Africa, I was born totin' that K
And that's real sh*t, no Will Smith and no Nona Gaye
But they yellin'…
[Chorus 2: The Game]
Ali Bomaye! Ali Bomaye!
Thank God that a n*gga seen another day
Ali Bomaye! Ali Bomaye!
Got a chopper and a bottle—f*ck it, let 'em spray!

[Verse 4: Rick Ross]
I take my case to trial, hire the Dream Team
Robbie Kardashian, Johnnie Cochran; I seen things
I dream big, I think sharp
Inhale smoke, Hawaiian tree bark
Humble yourself, you not a G, keep it one with yourself
Run to n*ggas for help, favors I keep one on the shelf
I got rifles with lasers, swing it just like the majors
Hit you right above navel
Now you swimmin' in pavement
Gold medals on my neck, I call it Michael Phelps
Hoes settlin' for less, I call 'em bottom shelf
n*ggas tough on them blogs and never did nothin' at all
On the road to the riches, b*tches not taggin' along

[Verse 5: The Game]
Unless it's ass in a thong, hit that ass and I'm gone
Disrespect my n*gga Boss and I'm flashin' the chrome
I'm wavin' the TEC, Tity sprayin' the MAC
Extendos in the back, gonna lap
I got a b*tch that look like Laila Ali sittin' in my lap
Got a call from Skateboard, pick 'em up at LAX
Speakin' skateboards, where Tune at? f*ck with him
I'll break a skateboard on a n*gga back, 2 Chainz!
[Verse 6: 2 Chainz]
Skateboard on a n*gga track
No lie, "No Lie" already got a plaque
Mama got a house, daughter got accounts
Just to think a n*gga like me started with a ounce
Bad b*tches and D-boys, we bring 'em out
If them n*ggas pus*y, we douche 'em, we clean 'em out
This the voice of ghetto intelligence. If you got work
Go to work, don't work at your residence

[Verse 7: The Game]
…For presidents
Word to Muhammad, that triple beam is heaven-sent
Ridin' through the jungles in that mothaf*ckin' elephant
That's a gray Ghost, with the ears on it
Swimmin' through the hood like it got fins on it (Tell 'em!)
You know I got that work on the foreman grill
Weigh the mothaf*ckas in, made another mil
Got a n*gga feelin' like Cassius Clay
Thrilla in Manilla, n*gga want it, whip his ass today

[Chorus 2: The Game]
Ali Bomaye! Ali Bomaye!
Thank God that a n*gga seen another day
Ali Bomaye! Ali Bomaye!
Got a chopper and a bottle—f*ck it, let 'em spray!

[Outro: Kevin Hart]
Ay, n*gga guess what I just picked up?
n*gga, talk to yo n*gga
Ay, my f*ckin' Jesus piece! (Woo)
Ay, ay, ay n*gga, n*gga look at ya boy! Look at ya boy!
Ay n*gga look, look real quick, real quick, look at Jesus eyes doe
n*gga they got diamonds in it! n*gga iced out!
n*gga iced out Jesus face on these b*tches n*gga
Ay don’t ever question my religion i just put 50 stacks on Jesus face out here n*gga. You see it, ay ay ay real quick, real quick, look at his headband (Ooh)
n*gga, n*gga look it! Look at ya boy n*gga
Ay n*gga I put the f*ckin' rubies around a n*gga f*ckin' joint n*gga
Yo chill here come Kanye, shut up don’t
Let me turn my piece around
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