Chris Brown – Bomb ft Wiz Khalifa

Highly Talented American music star, Chris Brown collides with Wiz Khalifa to create this new hypnotizing song titled “Bomb”.

This intriguing and enthralling song is lefted out of the expanded edition of his hot selling album project called “F.A.M.E.” Which he officially released on 22 March 2011.

We would like you to add this undeniable hit song to your playlist, you won’t regret it yuh.

Listen up below!.

DOWNLOAD Chris Brown Bomb MP3

LYRICS

Hahahahaha yeah

It’s your nigga young Khalifa man, Chris Breezy

All my ladies put your hands up, yeah, Taylor Gang

All my ladies put your hands up

You know we, uh, have to pass them some papers on this one, let’s go

If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb (Hahahahaha)

Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb

Ladies put your hands up if you that bomb-bomb

(You know, you gon’ have to bring that 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

Ain’t no question ’bout my size, I’ll give you the answer

Girl, you got that good good, I already know

Tell it by your size, I know you a dancer

Rein-derriere, I’ma call you Prancer

Booty paparazzi, pose for the camera

All my ladies, if you got it, let me know

Shawty thick in her hips, cold than a mother

Licking her lips, a bad mothersucker

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 (Oh-whoa)

Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb (Oh-whoa)

Ladies put your hands up if you that bomb-bomb (Oh-whoa, hahahahaha)

Girl, you got that bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb (Yeah, yeah)

Uh, somethin’ like a pimp (Pimp), nothin’ like them other fellas

Heard that you the shit (S-Shit), girl, we should blow up together

Ooh, I know you got that bomb shit, call it 9/11

I’m just tryna beat it up, h-h-he could do it a cappella (A cappella)

We should go back to my crib, that’s what I’ma tell her

Bring one or two of them ’cause your friends lookin’ kinda jealous

R-R-Rollin’ papers like propellers, blowin’ mozzarella

Lotta niggas in the club, who cares? I’m the realest

Tell the waitress, uh, we gon’ need more cases

And when you think the money’s gone, I’m spendin’ more faces

She with homeboy (Homeboy), but she want this

Six cars, eight chains, three cribs, one Wiz

You know shawty thick in her hips, cold than a mother (Hahahahaha)

Licking her lips, a bad mothersucker (Yeah, uh)

Apple looking so ripe, she make me want a piece (What up, Breezy?)

I give it to her all night, so she don’t wanna leave (It’s your young nigga, Wiz)

If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb (Oh-whoa)

Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb (Oh-whoa)

Ladies put your hands up if you that bomb-bomb (Oh-whoa, yeah)

Girl, you got that bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb (Yeah, yeah)

Hold up kimosabe, my crib look like a lobby

I’m in that black Bugatti and I’m off that Carlo Rossi

I’m-I’m-I’m with that Taylor possé, 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 her the pill and the D, you can call me cocky

Any stage or any beat, you know I’ma body

And Wiz, roll that good shit up and he ridin’ shotty (Blow!)

You know shawty thick in her hips, cold than a mother (Okay)

Licking her lips, a bad mothersucker (Hahahaha)

Apple looking so ripe, she make me want a piece (Hahaha, you know)

I give it to her all night, so she don’t wanna leave (Yeah, leggo!)

If you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb (Oh-whoa)

Know you got that bomb-bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb (Oh-whoa)

Ladies put your hands up if you that bomb-bomb (Oh-whoa)

Girl, you got that bomb-ba-bomb-ba-bomb-bomb-bomb (Yeah, yeah)

Yup, so when your good smell like that good weed, man, blame it on me

Don’t even blame Breezy, man, blame that shit on me man

Hahahahaha, yup