I'm So Raw
By Chris Brown
2022
3:16
Official Music Video
I'm So Raw by Chris Brown
Lyrics & Translation
English
Look, I'm so raw, turn the oven on
Chef Papa John, I get the parmesan
She want a yellow nigga, corn on the cob
Indian giver, slob on my knob
The bitch blow hard, harder than some Halls
Here, take 'em all, you'll be straight in the morn'
I'm two piece gone, I'm never gon' call
Fly nigga, I don't wear it if it's in the mall
Seen it on the blogs, these motherfuckers cost
Yves Saint Laurent, you can tell by the fonts
I do what I want, wake up when it's lunch
Walk like I'm drunk, uh, swagga so uh
Goyard trunks, go around, I got a bunch
Tell TSA, "Bitch, get up out my stuff."
I wouldn't recommend you to ever check 'em in
I started with the end so when do I begin?
I'm so raw, turn the oven on
Chef Papa John, I get the parmesan
Pocket full of paper, underage in casinos
You wanna see ID, oh? But I'm in the suite though
Here my room-key, go, room moving slow-mo
Fans want a photo, but it's my turn to roll
Hold up, baby, hold those, you see I'm chilling, dolo
Lens with a logo, pinky ring, Frodo
I'm feeling my self, no ho-h-h-homo
Hold that beat, poor that more ro-r-r-roso
Rosé, you bozos, couldn't speak what I'm on
You would need Rosetta Stone
All these niggas all clones, we be originals
Young Money Seminoles, tribe full of generals
Don't ask me shit unless it's in a interview, nigga
Unless it's in a interview
Ha, don't talk to me, I'm not your friend
I'm just a fan of a fan
Ha-ha, I love all my fans though
Mm
Spanish translations are provided by the LyricVerse team.
Spanish translation of I'm So Raw by Chris Brown
I'm So Raw* (original Chris Brown)
Look, I'm so raw, turn the oven on
Chef Papa John, I get the parmesan
She want a yellow nigga, corn on the cob
Indian giver, slob on my knob
The bitch blow hard, harder than some Halls
Here, take 'em all, you'll be straight in the morn'
I'm two piece gone, I'm never gon' call
Fly nigga, I don't wear it if it's in the mall
Seen it on the blogs, these motherfuckers cost
Yves Saint Laurent, you can tell by the fonts
I do what I want, wake up when it's lunch
Walk like I'm drunk, uh, swagga so uh
Goyard trunks, go around, I got a bunch
Tell TSA, "Bitch, get up out my stuff."
I wouldn't recommend you to ever check 'em in
I started with the end so when do I begin?
I'm so raw, turn the oven on
Chef Papa John, I get the parmesan
Pocket full of paper, underage in casinos
You wanna see ID, oh? But I'm in the suite though
Here my room-key, go, room moving slow-mo
Fans want a photo, but it's my turn to roll
Hold up, baby, hold those, you see I'm chilling, dolo
Lens with a logo, pinky ring, Frodo
I'm feeling my self, no ho-h-h-homo
Hold that beat, poor that more ro-r-r-roso
Rosé, you bozos, couldn't speak what I'm on
You would need Rosetta Stone
All these niggas all clones, we be originals
Young Money Seminoles, tribe full of generals
Don't ask me shit unless it's in a interview, nigga
Unless it's in a interview
Ha, don't talk to me, I'm not your friend
I'm just a fan of a fan
Ha-ha, I love all my fans though
Mm
I'm So Raw (traducción LyricVerse Team)
Mira, soy tan crudo, enciende el horno
Chef Papa John, consigo el parmesano
Ella quiere un negro amarillo, maíz en la mazorca
Dador indio, babea en mi perilla
La perra sopla fuerte, más fuerte que unos Halls
Aquí, tómalos todos, estarás bien por la mañana
Estoy dos piezas ido, nunca voy a llamar
Negro volador, no lo uso si está en el centro comercial
Lo vi en los blogs, estos cabrones cuestan
Yves Saint Laurent, se nota por las fuentes
Hago lo que quiero, me despierto cuando es la hora del almuerzo
Camino como si estuviera borracho, uh, swagga tan uh
Baúles Goyard, voy por ahí, tengo un montón
Dile a la TSA, "Puta, sal de mis cosas."
No te recomendaría que los registraras nunca
Empecé por el final, así que ¿cuándo empiezo?
Soy tan crudo, enciende el horno
Chef Papa John, consigo el parmesano
Bolsillo lleno de billetes, menor de edad en casinos
¿Quieres ver identificación, oh? Pero estoy en la suite
Aquí mi llave de la habitación, ve, la habitación se mueve en cámara lenta
Los fans quieren una foto, pero es mi turno de rodar
Espera, nena, aguanta esos, ves que estoy relajado, solo
Lente con un logo, anillo meñique, Frodo
Me estoy sintiendo a mí mismo, no ho-h-h-homo
Aguanta ese ritmo, vierte más ro-r-r-roso
Rosé, ustedes tontos, no podrían decir lo que estoy tomando
Necesitarías Rosetta Stone
Todos estos negros son clones, nosotros somos originales
Young Money Seminoles, tribu llena de generales
No me preguntes mierda a menos que sea en una entrevista, negro
A menos que sea en una entrevista
Ja, no me hables, no soy tu amigo
Solo soy un fan de un fan
Ja-ja, amo a todos mis fans, sin embargo
Mm
Lyrics provided by LyricVerse • Visit us at lyricverse.com
