Artist: Chris Brown & Tyga f/ Jay 305, T.I. Album: Fan of a Fan: The Album Song: Bunkin' Typed by: Cedmaster3K [Intro: Chris Brown] My real bitches like, 100 Keep this shit 100, 100, yeah [Chorus: Chris Brown] My bitch she bunkin' (she bunkin') she went from nothin' now she somethin' My bitch bunkin' (bunkin') she only clap that ass for me My bitch bunkin' (my bitch bunkin') I taught her how to whip a ki Now my trap jumpin' (yeah yeah) she bring that dough to me how I want it (how I want it) in fifties, hundreds, all that (all that) Money is money, my nigga, even small stacks (yeah) We on right now so you may have to wait, my nigga (wait, my nigga) I throw that cash in the air, this shit feel great, my nigga [Jay 305] I don't know if you know how it feel to ride out in Sunset watchin' the sunset (bad bitch) in California, Los Angeles my nigga (Jay 305, uhh) What's happenin' though? My bitch grind (my bitch grind) My boo now know I'm thuggin' from the slums (I'm from the slums) She know I'm in the streets, she hold my guns (she hold my guns) Ain't seen my P.O. in weeks, fuckin' months, told her hold my spot down, I'm on the run I got my motherfuckin' J's on, finna hit Arkansas Get these OXYs off, come back to L.A., wipe my case Where I'm from it's bang or ball, fucking bitches like yo misses Flip em' like a case of raw, back to to bid'ness flipping digits Splitting Swishers with my niggas, came from nothin', from nothin' to somethin' Know my struggle, my momma know I'm thugging Coming out the county jail smell like public, yo momma love it Got your main bitch on my side on time, nigga my bitch she bunkin' [Chorus] [T.I.] Hey, hey, now don't it feel great When you ridin' through the hood and you known as Bill Gates? (and I'm known as Bill Gates) Yeah, with a super bad bitch in a drop Lamborghini Make a home girl hate Just a trap nigga known to have a quarter mil' a day Nigga proof that sellin' drugs on the corner still pay I make a hundred Gs, spend 40 on ki's Put the rest away just in case I caught a real case (what) Yeah, and I ain't gon' stop Teachin' you the shit that you ain't know about On my side when I rhyme, think it ain't no Glock Stop cuffin' that bitch like she ain't no thot Hey, racks on that ass, think it ain't gon drop? Even if not, bet the brain on fire Nigga fourteen years, I remain on fire Men do, women too but the game don't lie Hey, still up to the same old shit Bang on the pussy nigga they ain't no shit Stop playin' with the pussy, you know you don't want this Shut the fuck down or yo ass gon' get it In public, it's nothin' I'm right back in my bunkin' Ain't what you do, it's how you does it and we does it cousin [Chorus] [Tyga] AHH~! Make me harder, miss your daughter, she just wanna lay and party Be my naughty girl in college, fuck you all the time, I'm tired Wake up on it, it's that, early morning, tap that wet-wet (woo!) You know a nigga love breakfast, I'ma bite that, got money in the mattress where I hide it at (yeah) Countin' all of that, fuck all of them niggas, they don't know what to do with all that As a matter fact, get on my lap, put you on the map, take you out the trap From a condo to a larger state, got double gates if I catch a case Would you wait on me and bill me up again? Is so [Chris Brown] Yeah my niggas thuggin', poppin' rubber bands, money in my hand Double cuppin' with the Sprite, mix it up with the Xans We some zombies here tonight, slow motion, your bitch choosy She say "Don't they call you Breezy?" I told that bitch "I'm out here coolin" With a 100, million, dollars, got a, 100, on my, chain She got a million, dollar, body, with a, 100, dollar, brain Girl your booty like a pumpkin (like a pumpkin!) And my bitch, she be bunkiiin' [Chorus]