“Loyal” by Chris Brown ft. Lil Wayne, Tyga LYRICS

 Young Mula, baby

You thought it was over?

I wasn't born last night
I know these hoes ain't right
But you was blowin' up her phone last night
But she ain't have her ringer nor her ring on last night, oh
Nigga, that's that nerve
Why give a bitch your heart when she'd rather have a purse?
Why give a bitch an inch when she'd rather have nine?
You know how the game goes, she be mine by half time
I'm the shit, oh

Nigga, that's that nerve
You all about her, and she all about hers
Birdman Junior in this bitch, no flamingos
And I done did everything, but trust these hoes
(CB fuck with me!)

When a rich nigga want ya
And your nigga can't do nothing for ya
Oh, these hoes ain't loyal
Woah, these hoes ain't loyal
Yeah-yeah, let me see

Just got rich
Took a broke nigga bitch
I can make a broke bitch rich
But I don't fuck with broke bitches

Got a white girl with some fake titties
I took her to the bay with me
Eyes closed, smoking marijuana
Rolling up that Bob Marley, I'm a rasta
She wanna do drugs (drugs)
Smoke weed, get drunk (wasted)
She wanna see a nigga trapped
She wanna fuck all the rappers

When a rich nigga want you (want you, baby)
And your nigga can't do nothing for ya (nothing, no)
Oh, these hoes ain't loyal (no, they ain't)
Woah, these hoes ain't loyal
Yeah-yeah, let me see

Black girl with a big booty
If she a bad bitch, let's get to it (right away)
We up in this club, bring me the bottles
I know girl, that you came in this bitch with your man
That's a no-no girl
All this money in the air
I wanna see you dance

Just got rich (got rich)
Took a broke nigga bitch (yeah)
I can make a broke bitch rich
But I don't fuck with broke bitches (girl, it's you)

When a rich nigga want you (want you, baby)
And your nigga can't do nothing for ya (no, nothing, no-woah)
Oh, these hoes ain't loyal (oh-oh-oh, no)
Woah, these hoes ain't loyal (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah-yeah, let me see

Rich, young nigga
Name got bigger and my change got bigger
So my chains got bigger
Ferrari, Jaguar, switching four lanes with the top down screaming out, "Money ain't a thing"
Ha, me and CB in the Bay with her (Bay with her)
I sent her back home so you can lay with her
Okay, let's talk about this ice that I'm carrying
All these karats like I'm a fucking vegetarian

Shout-out Weezy F, keep a redbone wet
Rose Rolex, hoes on deck, she know I got a check
Do it too good when she ride that dick (woah)
Man, I wouldn't trust that bitch, no

Come on, come on, girl, why you frontin'?
Baby, show me something
When I call her, she gon' leave
And I bet that bottom dollar she gon' cheat
Come on, come on, girl why you frontin'?
Baby, show me something
You done spent your ring on her
And it's all for nothing (yeah, yeah, yeah)

When a rich nigga want you (want you, baby)
And your nigga can't do nothing for ya (can't do nothing for you)
Oh, these hoes ain't loyal (oh, no)
Woah, these hoes ain't loyal
Yeah-yeah, let me see

When a rich nigga want you (want you, baby)
And your nigga can't do nothing for ya (oh-woah-oh)
Oh, these hoes ain't loyal (they be playing games) (yeah)
Woah, these hoes ain't loyal
Yeah-yeah, let me see

Yeah, let me see
Yeah, let me see
Let me see
Oh, these hoes ain't loyal (let me see)

Songwriters: Dwayne Carter, Chris Brown, Tyrone William Griffin Jr, Stanley Cox, Nicholas Balding, Abou Thiam, Omololu Akinlolu, Mark Kragen, Bobby Brackins.