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Artist: Tyga & Chris Brown
Album:  Fan of a Fan: The Album
Song:   Remember Me
Typed by: Cedmaster3K

[Chorus: Chris Brown] + (Tyga)
Girl you know we got the time
Got that pussy on my mind; later on, what are we doin'?
I know you're ready, show that ass
Girl you lookin' so bad, gettin' horny watchin' you do it
Girl I wanna kiss it
While you kissin your girlfriends
I wanna see a whole lot of lickin', that's a memory
(Yeah, bet I make that pussy remember me)

[Chris Brown]
I be bangin' all on that beat, 808, she got the bass when her booty shake
She got her friends with her and they a sight to see, a-a-all that ass, don't let it go to waste
All this Hennessy, this liquor 'bout to penetrate, while I'm pushin' Lamborghini's on the interstate
I long dick her, I'ma go for hours, you +Minute Made+ like lemonade
I'm fresh as fuck in these Margielas, I skate past a nigga better than veterans
Bipolar cold, give me the medicine, my chain's too bright, no Thomas Edison
When I pull it out, bitch nervous, better ride this wave, bitch surf it
Girl, you better keep them legs open, only thing you close is these curtains
And she only got time for a nigga if I take her out to eat, a nigga really gotta motivate
Man, that's too much work for the pussy, I don't work for the pussy, nigga really don't communicate
Hah, I'd rather lick it like a dinner plate, I'd rather keep my money in a safe
Hah, bitch I ain't got time to play, I need it now, not a minute late


Drop your head to a king nigga, dreams house, my dream's bigger
Got a deck of cards if my heart switch up, Ace of Spades, her eyes lit up
Diamonds glitter in my car, thriller, she pray for me, that's God willin'
I'm hard to break, my bars prison, her new name: Ass-Zilla
She love a nigga and that pussy tight, come through, fuck you all night
Some foreplay, that's all right but she rather do #69
High notes, it's prime time, on a couch, hit it from behind
Hit you with that large stroke now she fiendin' for that good dope, yeah
Hah, that's my bae, she cook and clean, I got it made
Handcuff like she a slave, touch ya, let ya tongue taste
So high, no ceiling space, numb to it, can't feel her face
... Yeah, she numb to it, can't feel her face

[Chorus] w/ ad-libs

[Chris Brown]
Blowin' up my line on the cellular, she wanna lock a nigga down on the regular
Talking crazy to me like she own the dick but I don't trust her as far as I can throw the bitch
Hah, momma told me to find a keeper but I switch like designer sneakers
A girl with the finest features; every nigga wanna talk to her but I got her first, finders keepers
Violins in the back is my theme music, her ass on my mind, I dream booty
Any nigga tryna fuck my bitch then it's off with his head, how kings do it
My rings ruby, red bandana, I stay woopin'
Got too many cribs, I stay movin', three Lambos, I stay coupin' (hah) but you don't hear me though
Virginia to the Westside, my car foreign, the girl sit on the left side
Smokin' weed on the plane, that's the best high, she gotta sign the waiver 'fore I let her fly
Helipads on the boat, chillin' in the South of France, Saint-Tropez
Nice, Monaco, but nothin' compare to what's in my pants, girl stop playin'!

[Chorus] w/ ad-libs