Save the Drama lyrics

[Intro: Kevin Gates]
One, two, three
Ain't no sense in standin' on up after the club
We really not losin', bad women still choosin'
Keep a million dollars worth of game in your ear
I said Savignon, bill, and that sh*t that disappear
Certainly not on me, was understood
Can't explain it, the loudest language always been bad language
Don't try to change (Chris!)

[Verse 1: Chris Brown]
Gunshots (Yeah), you lots (Yeah)
Hennessy, I don't really like scotch (Ooh)
At the 'Don when I'm talkin' to the Dutch
And I'm ridin' with the pockets like, "Fam, you up?" (Yeah!)
Dippers and the wait notes (Yeah!)
Black mask, we just hit a lick
Better keep your face down (Agh!)
Huh, get loud when that kick sound (Bah!)
If you miss it, don't come, uh (Ow!)
No tops, no tops (Yeah)
Go to collect, we in Paris when we shop
You gotta give the man props
Your girl love the man lots (Haha), f*ck it
I'm on that pus*y like a rumpa (Yeah)
If I tag a girl, she gotta have a bumper
Oh, that pus*y got that fire like a dragon (Yeah)
And I know she got that wagon from her mama (Yeah)
[Chorus: Chris Brown]
Call it a homicide, how she do
The guys and she make her mum jealous (Ow!)
Make me terrified
I can tell your skin 'cause you usin' your melanin (Oh!)
Oh, no, no, no, no
Light another blunt, then we gon' light up the floor
Smokin' all that ganja, you can smell through the door
Sex tape never, 'less she tell me record
And I know where your head's at
Got your attitude from your mother, oh
And I'm the one who said that
Just do me a favor and save the drama

[Verse 2: Tracy T]
Get the baddest b*tch and treat her like the worst (Woah)
Poppin' the Henny, trippin' if you f*ck the pus*y first (Woah)
You gon' f*ck or I'm gon' f*ck or you gon' fall in love
I was gettin' that one f*ck, I'm f*ckin' with the plug
b*tches textin', I'm a dawg, she fetchin'
b*tch, I'm on, no flexin', f*cked a hundred of her besties
Said that's just for that extra range sh*t to forget ya
Bodies under my belt, just to make it official
I forget the hit mission, never forget the pistol
Diggin' all the way in her, killin' and leavin' victims
I got trust issues, I might think you trippin'
Really I be trippin', rollin' with loads of Smith & Wessons
This the gang, b*tch, you better catch it 'fore you be over-tested
Rather pull up in a Bentley, used to pull up in Chevys
On my counter, can't get enough
On my counter, ten paper cuts
Like countin', can't get enough, n*gga
[Chorus: Chris Brown]
Call it a homicide, how she do
The guys and she make her mum jealous (Ow!)
Make me terrified
I can tell your skin 'cause you usin' your melanin (Yeah!)
Oh, no, no, no, no
Light another blunt, then we gon' light up the floor
Smokin' all that ganja, you can smell through the door
Sex tape never, 'less she tell me record
And I know where your head's at
Got your attitude from your mother, oh
And I'm the one who said that
Just do me a favor and save the drama (Grab your!)

[Verse 3: Kevin Gates]
Likkle waist, gyal (Yeah!)
Likkle waist, gyal (Yeah!)
Lick di poom-poom
Like di taste, gyal (Brah!)
I done made love in the strangest places (Oh, Lord)
I'm a real plug, move thangs on the daily
Like di man in the morn', I be safe (Yeah!)
Smoke di ganja, mi *coughs* every day (Ah)
I'm a rider, she a rider
Hold the Glock 9, right on sight her
Hit the high notes like Mariah
I done feel electric when the vibe is right
I'm a drug, I'ma get you high tonight
Fall in love with me, pus*y mine tonight
I could see you want me, pull you closely
Sound on silent, ignore the phone ring
Deep breath, hands on knees, just get it
Real small waist, fat ass, lil' titties
Email please, Gates don't do digits
Mouth on bling, just spent two million
Laid back, low-key, big lean sippin'
S63 coupe, yee, I'm whippin'
Heroin trap, back street, move chickens
New boo thing on fleek, roof missin'
Chris B hit me, dip through, kick it
Straps on lap, big sh*t I give her
Hat to the back, lot of tats, I'm chillin'
Matter of fact, big racks, I get it
Kevin Gates don't hang, bae, stop slippin'
Bullsh*t make a real n*gga lose interest
[Chorus: Chris Brown]
Oh, no, no, no, no
Light another blunt, then we gon' light up the floor
Smokin' all that ganja, you can smell through the door
Sex tape never, 'less she tell me record
And I know where your head's at
Got your attitude from your mother, oh
And I'm the one who said that
Just do me a favor and save the drama