- Votes:
- Composers:
- Christopher Maurice Brown
- Kevin L. Mccall
- Winston D. Riley
- Cameron Jibril Thomaz
- Jean Paul Louis Baptiste
- Amber Denise Streeter
- Ryan Buendia
- Nick Marsh
- Michael Ojike Mchenry
- Steph Jones
 
- See also:
Chris Brown - Bomb lyrics
All my ladies, put ya hands up
 All my ladies, put ya hands up
If you got that bomb, bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb
 Know you got that bomb, bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb
 Ladies, put ya hands up if you that bomb, bomb
 Girl, you got that bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb, bomb
Oh, me, oh, my, body like a monster
 Let me get inside, ya booty I'ma conquer
 If ya question bout my size, I give you the answer
 Girl you got that good, good, I already know
Tell it by your size, I know you a dancer
 Rein, derierre, I'ma call you 'Prancer'
 Booty paparazzi, pose for the camera
 All my ladies, if you got it let me know
Because shawty thick in her hips, cold than 'em other
 Licking her lips, a bad mothasucker
 Apple looking so ripe, she make me want a piece
 I give it to her all night so she don't wanna leave
If you got that bomb, bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb
 Know you got that bomb, bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb
 Ladies, put ya hands up if you that bomb, bomb
 Girl, you got that bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb, bomb
Something like a pimp, nothin' like them other fellas
 Heard that you the shit, girl, we should blow up together
 Ooh I know you got that bomb shit, call it nine, eleven
 I'm just tryna beat it up, he could it, acapella
We should go back to my crib, that's what I'ma tell her
 Bring one or two of them 'cause your friends looking kinda jealous
 R-r-rolling papers like propellors blowing mozarella
 Lotta niggas in the club, who cares I'm the realest
Tell the waiters we gon need more casesChris Brown - Bomb - http://motolyrics.com/chris-brown/bomb-lyrics.html
 And when you think the money's gone we spending more faces
 She with homeboy but she want this
 Six cars, eight chains, three cribs, one Wiz
Because shawty thick in her hips, cold than 'em other
 Licking her lips, a bad mothasucker
 Apple looking so ripe, she make me want a piece
 I give it to her all night so she don't wanna leave
If you got that bomb, bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb
 Know you got that bomb, bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb
 Ladies, put ya hands up if you that bomb, bomb
 Girl, you got that bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb, bomb
Hold up kimosabe, my crib look like a lobby
 I'm in that black Bugatti and I off that Carlo Rossi
 I with that Taylor Posse, these ladies wanna party
 And there's so much ice up on my neck, it look like I play hockey
So hold up, nigga, stop me, all these haters watch me
 I give it up, you're in the deep, you can call me cocky
 Any stage or any beat you know I'ma body
 And Wiz roll that good shit up and he riding shawty
Because shawty thick in her hips, cold than 'em other
 Licking her lips, a bad mothasucker
 Apple looking so ripe, she make me want a piece
 I give it to her all night so she don't wanna leave
If you got that bomb, bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb
 Know you got that bomb, bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb
 Ladies, put ya hands up if you that bomb, bomb
 Girl, you got that bomb, ba, bomb, ba, bomb, bomb, bomb
Yeah, so when you [Incomprehensible]
 Smell like that good weed, man, blame it on me
 You don't blame Weezy, man, blame that shit on me, man
 Yeah









