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

[Intro: Tyga]
Hold up {"Mustard on the beat!"}
AHH~!

[Chorus: Chris Brown]
Man, don't play with the pussy like a banjo
Man, don't play with the pussy like a banjo
Man, don't play with the pussy like a banjo
And all the hoes in the party hit the dance floor

[Chris Brown]
Pull up, nigga creepin'
Colder than a motherfucker, guess it's hoe season (bitch!)
Shorty got that ass, baby girl it's nice to meet you (yeah)
With these lights off, give a fuck about your features
I'm tryna fuck (haha) if it's one on one gimme that ISO (woo!)
But if it's two of y'all, I'ma let the dice roll
It's the weekend, I could tell you been freakin'
Cause you poppin' Miley Cyrus and you twerkin' with your eyes closed (hah)
Go figure, skinny nigga with a suit on (hah)
Bunch of bad bitches, yeah they like me nigga, who don't?
Drop top everything, we party like the roof gone
A nigga got a problem, blocka-blocka, then we move on (blap!)
Tell 'em hold that
If you lookin' for liquor, better lick up, my liquor zing and you know that
Bitches lookin' for a sponsorship
Cha-ching cause I sponsor shit, bitch I throw racks (racks~!)
Fucked up, got me dancin' on the floor
Tryna dance in that pussy, tell me when to go
Heh, I'm tore up, feelin' like I'm 'bout to throw up
One night with me, this bitch about to blow up

[Chorus] - 2X

[Tyga]
AHH~! Ain't shit but model bitches over here
I'm a nigga with money bitch, let's make that clear
You here with a elf ear, hoes in stock over here
And the price goin' up by the year
It's a good year baby, on my blimp shit
You too defensive and sensitive, that's on some mental shit
No sense in lingerin', can't count on you niggas man
Only count Benjamins (yep) he my closest friend
My wrist's a risk, ice the bitch
Like it's sprained and shit, I'm the nigga, nigga
Yes he is, the flyest with three yeses is
I take that pussy and ransom it - now give it some date
When I hit the block, better have your banger (blaow)
That's my babe, she don't talk to strangers (nope)
She fold it close, we ain't gon' ever hang
Beat the box like manana-bing, manana-bing-bing

[Chorus] - 2X

[Chris Brown]
She was bomb but she wanted me to pay for it
Alley-oop bitch, you know a nigga play whores
I play with pussy, girl you know that I'm a playboy
Clap, clap, clap then she make that booty make noise (beitch~!)
Man, she make that ass wobble like a monster
Twerk somethin', hurt somethin', damn, I'ma need a doctor
A bitch with some real hair straight up out the projects
And she turn her phone off from all them niggas she be dodgin'
She ain't +Loyal+, I brought her head
She don't give a fuck about nothin' but her bread
But when I dance in that pussy, do the running man
While all these other niggas fuckin' with Juwanna Man
I'm throwin' all of this money and I'm advancin' these strippers
I got my hand on the pussy, she got her hand on my zipper
She started goin' to work, my shit got hard as a missile
Then she said she had a twin, I started fuckin' her sister

[Chorus] - 2X