Tag: Joyner Lucas

Tory Lanez – Litty Again (Freestyle) Lyrics

And it goes on
Kill a pussy nigga with his pantyhose on
The gun is equipped for what ever hand it goes on
To kill a backpack nigga with his Jansport on
Geek ass nigga
Dweeb ass nigga
Never had a G-pass nigga
‘Bout to ski mask his ass and eat fast nigga
Pull the heat fast and blast
And leave that nigga
With his seat back nigga
I’m a number one nigga in no time
I been waiting for a nigga to give me the showtime
In the jungle waiting for you to slip on the oak vine
I’ma do this nigga like I was chewing a pork rind nigga
Eminem couldn’t get ya to a million on the ‘Gram
Chris Brown tried, nigga failed both times
I done took ya page to a million in a day
If you ask me, nigga, I’m ya motherfucking cosign
I’ma hit the pussy ass nigga with a clothesline
I’ma have to catch a nigga slipping in my own time
I just took da flame on a private ass plane
Out to Massachusetts, catch this nigga slipping in his hometown
Ya see what go around come around and go around
So I got his hoe going round like it go around
Let these niggas know I’m not the one to toe-to-toe around
Singing ass nigga not the one to leave your hoe around
I’m about to hit him with the end of the K
Word to my niggas in Heaven I’m ’bout to send em away
I’m exhausted I kill this nigga two times
24 hours man this shit been a repetitive day
Nigga tell me is it Joyner Lucas, Lucas Joyner?
I’m the nigga who destroy ya
Coupe deploy ya, label drop ya, who’s the lawyer?
Buy ya contract from them back and be who employ ya
Oops, I’m going, who’s condoning? Juice and jonesing
Met ya bitch she too conjointed
Tryna ask this pussy ass nigga who the fuck want smoke
But the lightskin niggas in ya crew too spooked to join in
I’m a nasty nigga and you could ask the nigga
The shotty dumping popping up outta the backseat, nigga
I’m ’bout to leave his body bloody like a maxi, nigga
I tax these niggas, get at these niggas, attack these niggas
The venom is arachne, nigga
I’m ’bout kill da man and da man that done backed these niggas
And blam any man that’ll try to dap you niggas
And clap any stan fan that attract you niggas
See ya daddy was a musician that never made it
‘Cause when you was born nigga it was you or him
Shattered knowing he would never make it as an artist
And the odds of his life prolly be 2 to 1
But I give it to him ’cause he didn’t run
I guess he figured, “man when you look at it in a nutshell
All I got is a failed music career and
My revenge is giving that shit to my son”
Nigga I’ma flossy nigga
They try to toss me nigga
The 45th I get em off me nigga
I block niggas Chris Bosh these niggas
I got figures pish posh to niggas
I dump niggas, jump, criss cross these niggas
The pump leave ’em slumped, in the car seat nigga
The skunk in the trunk was an awkward nigga
That thought he didn’t need to have caution with him
A cornball with a Boston fitted
I said hold up my nigga man this shit crazy
You fucked AYLEK$ man that shit crazy
Nigga said he out here running threesomes with the
Nigga that’s in court dealing with the kid cases
I’ma hit a stain then I hit a bad one
Pull up on da nigga hold em up for ransom
I got five plaques this year, you did whole song with Eminem and still don’t even have one nigga
Damn, my lil homie that’s a bad one nigga
Really feel bad for you it’s a sad one nigga
Hold your head steady maybe you could have one nigga
Hit me for a hook and maybe get a plaque young nigga
Shout go out to Wayno and Ak my nigga
Tomorrow they’ll be talking ’bout you got smacked young nigga
From the pack my nigga
I’m keeping this shit a stack, my nigga
That “Litty” verse was wack, my nigga
They go hard my dawg, but I go harder nigga
Atcha head with the fade like a barber nigga
Try to come for the boat and I’ma harbor niggas
Be smart like a Harvard nigga don’t start with niggas
And he gotta problem with us
But I know how to solve it nigga
This is my son
I’ma tell ’em like Star Wars, “Lucas, I’m your father” nigga
You a perpetrating, work for hire, twerk for payment
Busta Rhymes impersonating, worthless baby, irks him daily
Hurts to say it, burger flipping, birthed in 80s
Tryna be a 90s baby, thirty something tryna chase it
Tryna make it, rocks designer, kinda fakes it
Hates to face it
That he’ll never be a nigga that be placed for A-list, niggas damn
Here’s what he’s thinking right now
“I’m Joyner Lucas, why did I start it with this guy?
Tory Lanez coming back what am I gonna do this time?
They ain’t like none of my diss lines
Everybody knows I can spit it in quick time
Even if the lines is as shitty as 6ix9ine’s
But this time they ain’t really letting me get by
Fuck I’m finna do with this shit now?
Damn I know this nigga finna be wild
Knowin’ this nigga bout to kill me on it OD now
Don’t nobody ever wanna book me for a show
I ain’t got no songs when I go I spit freestyles
Try to make songs ’bout depression
But nobody ever get it
So I take it out on popping niggas beats now
I ain’t never ever trapped
I ain’t never slung a gat
But the world don’t know so fuck it, I’m a G now”
Man, what the fuck wrong with him?
I know something wrong with him
I got a hundred bunch o’ bullets ’bout to put ’em all in him
Nigga walked in with a hundred rounds in him
And he seen a nigga chicken I was comin’ down in it
Glock nine nigga gotta run around with it
I’ma son a nigga, keep it at least one-a-round with it
Backpack niggas ain’t sellin’ no records
Better dumb it down with it when you come around with it

This shit is easy man
Yo it’s crazy nigga
I’m really-, I’m really-, I’m really being very generous, you know?
Like I’m really doing you a favor, it’s not a lot of niggas in my status that come down just to, you know, to come down and spank you niggas, pause man
It’s crazy, but you know
I’ma do for you what niggas didn’t do for me – that’s older brother status
So if you blow from this point on, I’m your cosign nigga, you know what it is
Ayy Slow, that’s facts right?
Big facts, word to Ralph, nigga, word to big Jevante too, nigga
You know what’s going on nigga-, you know what the fuck’s going on, nigga
One Umbrella gang, nigga

Joyner Lucas – Zeze (Freestyle) Lyrics

Ahh, shit

Yo, nigga’s saying, “What a great battle”
But you about to see a fucking snake rattle
Boy, you just a pony with a pink saddle
I’m truly sorry that you stuck inside of Drake’s shadow
When are you gon’ overcome? (Huh)
When are you gon’ level up?
When are you gon’ grow another foot? (Huh)
When are you gon’ show us that you number one? (When)
And everything that you accomplished in some years about to take me just a couple months
Don’t you think I’m bluffing neither
I thought you were tougher, eager (Damn)
How you almost signed to Justin Bieber?
You look like a fuckin’ beaver (Haha)
Ten years in the game but yo’ ass still sittin’ on the fucking bleachers
Boy, you just another diva (Just another diva)
Heard yo’ grandmama kicked you out the house screaming
“Tory, we don’t fucking need you”
Why yo’ daddy up and leave you? (Why)
I guess this is how they fucking treat you
And you my puppet, you my Cousin Skeeter
This ain’t what you wanted, they been waiting for it
I’m Joyner Lucas, what the fuck you niggas take me for
(What the fuck)
I pull up in a Demon but I kill Satan for it
If you want attention Tory you gon’ have to pay me for it
All these hoes love me but you sucker niggas hate me for it
You roll up on me, catch a shot at ya Mercedes door
The bullets fly, you recline like a La-Z-Boy
All you do is cry, you a child, you my baby boy
You call yourself Tory after The Notorious Big (Yeah)
Biggie turning in his grave when he hear yo’ shit
Don’t ever think that you could ever come compare yo’ shit
Little girls and kids only ones who feel yo’ shit
I skipped the plaques on my way to a Grammy
All your records soft and sweet, niggas think that you candy
Your niggas really convinced you that you think you can scare me
And you got identity issues, niggas think you a tranny, really? (Damn)
Tory tell us why you always gotta lie in your rhymes (Why)
I know keeping up with lies can get tiring sometimes
You not a G and deep down you wanna hide sometimes
Staring at the sunshine and start crying sometimes
Your real name is Daystar, you been dying to shine
And when you sing you kinda sound like you dying sometimes
You make the type of tracks that had me feelin’ silent inside
Nobody take you serious, put all the violence aside
Okay, let’s talk about your plagiarism that you hate to mention (Yeah)
Or talk about the hate you giving to the greats you dissing
(Let’s talk about it)
And that writer who wrote yo’ shit still ain’t get paid on that “Don’t Die” record
You should probably go pay that nigga (Yeah, man)
And how the fuck you talk about Kendrick when he a legend (Huh)
Then go bite the nigga style on your record right at the ending
On 4AM Flex 2 minutes and 50 seconds
Sound exactly like the Art of Peer Pressure, go take a listen
You inspired by the niggas you name dropped
Catch fire in the rain, no umbrella to shelter you and no rain drops
When I seen you on Flex, I gave props
But then we found out you stole Don Q shit from the train stop
You thought you were fly ’til the plane drop
Ugly motherfucker tryna stunt in a tank top
It’s no wonder why they used to feed yo’ ass with a slingshot
You my son, this the last time I’ll give you a Ring Pop
Sit down, you on punishment
And don’t get up until you see me
And don’t even think about touching that TV
No more video games, no more phone, no more 3D
No more radio or boombox for your weak ass CD
Matter of fact, give me your chains back and everything I bought you
You a disgrace to this family and everything I taught you
I hate to say it son but you make me sick
I should’a knew you weren’t shit when you came out with a baby dick
It’s no wonder why you pay for pussy
Tory you think you slick
All you do is lounge around the house all day like a lazy prick
Shit, highly disappointed in you son, I need some answers
How come you couldn’t follow in my steps and be a dancer?
Or maybe write a book like me or be somebody’s grandpa
Instead you wanna be a fucking rapper with some hair plugs
No more rapping, give me your pen and paper
No more lying to the people on how you the biggest gangster
Now hurry up and get your juicy out the refrigerator
You going to bed at eight o’clock and not a minute later
No, I don’t wanna hear it
No, let this be a lesson
Close your mouth and go into your room like I suggested
I’m a get real Joe Jackson in a second
Matter of fact, give me your toys, I’m adding that to the collection
I just did a show and got it lit ya little nigga
And my freestyles killing your originals nigga
Couldn’t name a bitch I couldn’t get ya little nigga
You a rebound, even Scottie Pippen know nigga
You ain’t from Toronto, put that on the Bible
I put six hollows in your Ferragamo
Nigga, you from Brampton, go spin the bottle
Bitch I’m from New England, me and Brady in the El Dorado
Now come get on my level, I’m hard as metal
I bomb the ghetto, I brought the shovel
I bury all of you little ninja turtles
You Donatello, you soft as jello
You must be going off that Amaretto
It’s hard to tell ’cause you soft as pillows
You fucking midget, I call you Elmo
I throw you out a fucking car window
I step all over your Margielas, you caught feelings
Yo’ heart spinning, my bars illing
I’m Bob Dylan, I’m John Lennon, I’m authentic
Your bars running no off limits
Don’t talk business, don’t talk, listen
I’m off this so you fuck this you fuck! Nigga

What, nigga
Fuck out my face nigga
Ayy nigga look
We gonna get one in, pause
Let’s not, let’s not do this back and forth shit no more
I, I think we know what’s up, you know
Ha ha ha, Joyner

Joyner Lucas – Look Alive (Remix)

All you a lie
Nigga, I ain’t ever been a "yes" man
All you gonna die, you can get murdered on webcam
I don’t get tired; sweat through a headband
You might look alive, that’s ’cause you don’t really know you a dead man

[Verse 1]
This is God’s plan, someone stop me
I’ve been sent here from Illuminati
Evil scriptures written on my body
Me and Satan pull up in a red Ferrari
Don’t be trying to put your fucking arm around me
44 shots traumatize in front of 45 hit 44 more
Carbon copies say you kamikazes
That’s for e’rybody
Mama, Poppy
Sister, Brother, Cousin, Uncle, Auntie
This is not Versace, this is hot hibachi
This is Hiroshima, this is Nagasaki
I’m Mahatma Gandhi, a fucking humanoid Anunnaki
With plenty hammers when I’m riding shotty
Better use your manners when you talk about me
Ain’t too hard to find me
I’ve been killing niggas, still ain’t nothin’ left though
Joyner Lucas sicker than a strep throat
Spanish bitch that wanna give me besos
They must’ve forgot I was next up
Speed out your crib right after I clean out your shit and then put all of your fucking money in a escrow
Fuck what you saying, I’m not the one that you play with
I think they really mistaken, I wasn’t next up?
You thought wrong and you all gone, all done
I just might bring back Don Juan, I just might bring back Sean John
Tell P Diddy that I’m on one
I’ma be the down with a Du-Rag
Pussy ate out, that’s a PopCon
If I don’t fuck with you, that’s too bad (god damn)
Hoe, you played out like the dansant
Ain’t no bygones being bygones
I should murder niggas when I buy guns
Hoe, you get stretched like Nylon
This is my band, I’m Dylon
All I wanna do is just drop bombs on you cheerleadin’ niggas with the pom-poms
My Jamaica bitch got socks on, every time I hit it she be like, "Wagwan"
Peter Piper picked a pepper, and I put the pressure
Pick a fight, I pick a side, I put you on a stretcher
Peter Piper picked up a nine, I put it together
Started poppin’ at the people, they ’bout to meet the Beretta
Better meet the metal, I’m in need of a heat of a measure
Put you deeper than what’s deep of the sea of the desert
I’ve been scheming while I’m creeping, like fifty feet to the Jetta
Niggas speed and hit the pedal, put my feet in the metal, god damn!

508 all on my side, they gon’ ride, they gon’ ride
Nigga, this a homicide, oh my god, oh my god
I said I was gon’ retire, bitch I lied, bitch I lied
I ain’t got no fucking job, this my life, this my, wait—

[Verse 2]
All of y’all wishy and washy
All y’all my kids in a car seat
I take my dime to hibachi, we do 69 like Tekashi
Lyin’ in the sand, too much time in your hands, I think I need to find you a hobby
God got a plan, hope that God hold your hand, I think I’m ’bout to catch me a body!
Tell all my teachers that I said I’m back on my G shit and I’m coming back to get even
I went on tour and got paid, now I’m back in the region, I let off this mac for no reason
You are now witnessing greatness, I’m practically preaching and this is the passion of Jesus
And all you basic motherfuckas are lacking achievement, and I’ve just been laughing and geekin’
Back to business, I got mad intentions, I ain’t perfect, I done made some bad decisions
But it’s competition, I’m a savage winning
You can have the digits, I’m a mathematician
I don’t see you niggas, I’ve been lacking vision
You’ve been acting different, I’ve been acting distant
I’ma do some shit to bring me mad attention
You gon’ do some shit that send me back to prison, whoa!
This is uncomfortable, you just keep putting your feet in a fire
I think my gun got a crush on you, boy, you ’bout to meet your secret admirer
How you do shit you don’t wanna do? I do that shit just to keep me inspired
I used to hit it and leave when I wanted to, now I hit it and be sleepin’ inside her, woo
Roll up on ’em when I pull up on ’em, put that motherfucking smoke up on ’em with that holy water
Joyner Lucas, I’m a holy mona [?] leader motor runnin’
Man, too many niggas know about it, but I thought about it
Prayed about it to the Lord about it in the morning, but I gotta show ’em what it’s all about and I’ma call ’em out
I ain’t that nigga you could talk about, you better calm it down
Don’t be tryna give me the run around, I’ll shut ’em down god damn, wait

508 all on my side, they gon’ ride, they gon’ ride
Nigga this a homicide, oh my god, oh my god
I said I was gon’ retire, bitch I lied, bitch I lied
I ain’t got no fucking job, this my life, this my

[Verse 3]
This is God’s plan, someone stop me
I was sent here from Illuminati
Evil scriptures written on my body
Me and Satan pull up in a red Buggati
Don’t be tryna put your fucking arm around me
Bring the drama, it ain’t hard to find me
This a lucid dream, this a out-of-body
UFO flying while I’m riding shotty
I’m a ninja, pull up on a Kawasaki
187 on the cops behind me
This is Hiroshima, this is Nagasaki
I’m Mahatma Gandhi in a Maserati, god damn
Now call me Papi
Plenty hammers wanna ride on shotty
Better use your manners when you talk about me
It ain’t hard to find me, motherfucker
My name Joyner

Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown – Stranger Things

[Verse 1: Chris Brown]
Bottles and a bucket full of ice (yeah)
Better make room, vroom hear the Lambo (celebrate)
Bitch better believe that I’ma sniper (yeah)
You know I’m ’bout to take you from your man though (celebrate)
Pop up with the chopper and artificial niggas actin’ like bitches, it done started up a epidemic
It don’t make a difference, nigga, we winnin’, I’m plenty grinnin’
A hundred million platinum, fuck it, you ain’t gotta listen (celebrate)
You better step down to me, feel the dick, bitch, open up your mouth for me
Now choke, talk to the dick honestly
I’m dope, bitch, comin’ like Eenie Meenie Miney Mo (celebrate)
I don’t like when I lose (I don’t), if I don’t buy her them shoes, I don’t like those (regulate)
Do anything that I want to it, think I’m gon’ dance on the moon like Michael (elevate)

[Verse 2: Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown]
While I’m drivin’, I’m moonwalking in the sky
With some shooters, we jump inside of the Buick
You duck and hide from the Rugers
A couple choppers, acoustic and the guitar
When the music, guess I’m alive and I use it
Get stuck inside of the cubics
I never lie but the truth is
I’m fuckin’ tired of these losers
And all my life want the food
When it’s summertime and the juice
But I’d rather die than to lose
It’s a matter of time ‘fore I lose it
And strategize with the movement
Walk in the trap like a boss, ooh
Hoe, you know I’m drippin’ with the sauce, ooh
Pretty with a face full of scars, all they did was build me up
Try to take me apart, they ain’t never wanna (celebrate)
Like you have a label, call the doctor
Heard the chopper make ’em do the macarena
All you niggas sweet as candy
Chocolate chip and I relate to Jolly Ranchers
Stick to bubblegum and watermelon flavored
Get the paper, I’ma (celebrate)
On the corner
Heard you niggas got the juice, but I got Corona
Got a little Spanish bitch, I call her maricona
Joyner Lucas, bitch, I’m hotter than a fuckin’ sauna
Yeah, I make you niggas (elevate)
All you new niggas don’t do it for me, look (woah)
Bitch, I’m the professor, you a student to me, woah
Designer shades on, like you cooler than me, wait (ayy)
All we do is win, you a loser to me
Rappers wanna talk about battle me (Joyner)
You can’t give me neck with a mouth full of cavities
Bunch of lil niggas tried grabbin’ me (grabbin’ me)
Five foot five, boy, you niggas like half of me
You don’t wanna see the other side of me (yeah)
Hard to make ’em happy, all these bitches stay mad at me
I just might take her ’round to Applebee’s (Applebee’s)
Give her long dick and a strawberry daiquiri

[Verse 3: Chris Brown & Joyner Lucas]
Order Cheesecake Factory, bubblin’, why you mumblin’?
Watch you utter, stop stutterin’, what you spend? Let me double it
Lime green ‘rari, two twins, call ’em double mints
If all you pussy niggas my kids are in trouble then
Shut up before I spank you for actin’ up
Now I’m wakin’ up in cabanas ’cause she bad as fuck
And all gorillas don’t want bananas ‘less your chain is tucked
You wiggity-wack with the strap, you cross-criss, make you jump
I criss-cross with the pump, ain’t no bricks in the trunk
Leave that shit for the chumps, I still get what I want
Don’t wanna believe in my mind, but you believe in my dump
I’m takin’ a knee for my side, could give a fuck ’bout they owners
Nigga, look at my eyes, you ’bout to give me my bonus
And every motherfuckin’ record, that’s a hit, I record it (celebrate)
And every motherfuckin’ snitch up in this bitch, they reported (celebrate)
You paid your way for this fade and can’t even afford it
Seventy-five mil’, look at me now (celebrate)
And all these bad bitches can’t keep their feet down (elevate)
You don’t really wanna see Brown
Need to stop all that shit, talkin’ put the seat down
Joyner, I don’t really feel these niggas
Hol’ up, I ain’t gotta pay to kill these niggas
Time is money, need to fuck around and bill these niggas
Vet, so I’m finna good will these niggas (celebrate)
I’ma kill these niggas, I should grill these niggas
Take flex, Fresh Prince, Uncle Phil these niggas
Oh shit, I’m the shit, you could smell me, nigga
Break ribs, yeah, you don’t want no real beef, nigga
I say As-salāmu ʿalaykum when I tear apart some bacon
Hoe, you actin’ like a pig, you fuckin’ filthy, nigga
Now the police tryna lock me in the prison, said I’m guilty
I said da da da da da, come and kill me, nigga

[Verse 4: Joyner Lucas, Chris Brown & Both]
They must have forgot that I’m pyscho (jheeze)
Oh, you want war? Say no more
Turn your fuckin’ block into a light show (Joyner)
You better be sure, better be sure
I’m the realest nigga, that I know
And I’m so bored, I might switch cars
Save a lotta money on Geico (jheeze)
And neighbors knockin’ on my door, what the fuck you want?
Bitch, I’m Irak (jheeze)
Listen, nigga, mind your business
I’m so sick of niggas tellin’ me how I’ve been livin’ my life
Sick of rubbin’ shoulders, now I’m runnin’ over every motherfucker who ain’t wanna get in my ride
I was watchin’, you was shoppin’
Ain’t never had the shit in my side
Now I’m poppin’, I’m poppin’, and your bitch keep hittin’ my line
It’s complicated, fuckin’ up with my main bitch
Givin’ it to the side bitch at the same damn time
Puttin’ my face in it, never wastin’ it
I’ma lay in it, hit it, hit it one more time
And then I’ma proceed and play with the pussy
You know I don’t keep my cape on a hoodie
But I give a Uzi, it’s a doozie, make a movie if you’re actin’, so (celebrate)

XXXTentacion Claims He Is A Better Rapper Than Tupac

Yes, you heard that right, XXXTentacion claims he is a better rapper than Tupac.

Certainly, he is not the first young rapper to claim that they are better than the late Tupac Shakur, just last year Kodak Black also echoed the same line. Pac is the benchmark for how good of a rapper you’re these days but ever so often some young cat overstep the bounds and say they are better than the West Coast legend. During his recent chat with DJ Akademiks, the Lauderhill rapper insisted that he is better than Pac while raising some eyebrows.

“I’m better than 2Pac, bro,” XXXTentacion insisted. “Please don’t compare me to him…Please don’t. 2Pac can’t make rock music. 2Pac couldn’t do that. 2Pac didn’t do that. 2Pac was a dancer and a poet and a rapper.” Akademiks then reminded him of Tupac’s credentials as a revolutionary figure in hip hop and X says he doesn’t care and continues his rant. “I don’t give a f***, there’s plenty of revolutionaries. What about Joyner Lucas?”

XXXTentacion then admitted that he is a big fan of The Notorious B.I.G. and thinks that Biggie is better than Tupac. He added that he wanted to spark a new debate about Tupac and Biggie while claiming the B.I.G. was a better rapper and better poet. “I think Biggie’s better, as far as a rapper,” he continues. “Tupac could articulate himself very well, but Biggie was a better poet.”

In his lengthy rant, XXXTentacion says he blame both rap legends for the current levels of gun violence among young kids, saying they should’ve put their differences aside and battle it out rather than kill each other. But let’s be clear, there is no evidence that Biggie Smalls had anything to do with Tupac’s murder. Notorious B.I.G.’s killing is widely seen as a reprisal for the death of Tupac.

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Chris Brown and Jacquees Dropping Joint Mixtape

Chris Brown dropped a 45-track album in December and now he has a joint mixtape with Jacquees coming out.

Jacquees posted a video of himself and Breezy in the studio vibing to some new music while announcing that a joint project is on the way. “We dropping a mixtape f**k it,” he wrote. Breezy has been having an impressive run over the past few months and his hard work is paying off because the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) recently named him as one of the most successful R&B artists of all-time.

His massive Heartbreak on a Full Moon album was released in December with more than 45 songs and that project is already platinum. Last month, he was also awarded 40 plaques from the RIAA from some old and new songs that were certified gold and platinum but he never got his plaques.

Jacquees didn’t shed any more light on the new joint mixtape, so we don’t have a title or release date, but here is a video from their studio session.

Chris Brown also has some new music coming out with Joyner Lucas who announced on Twitter last week that the singer will be rapping on their new joint. “You ever heard Michael Jackson rap? Lol well Me and @chrisbrown got a lot of heat in the oven. No bull**** tho, breezy mite be my new favorite rapper. you’ll see,” he tweeted.

Last weekend, Chris Brown previews two new singles on Instagram that he has been working on since the start of the year. Let’s not for forget that he revealed in an interview in October that he has over 800 unreleased songs on his iPhone walking around with, so he is sitting on enough new music to release plenty albums for the rest of his career. Watch a clip below of Chris Brown and Jacquees in the studio.

#chrisbrown and #jaquees is collaborating on a song #gossiptwins

A post shared by ??THE GOSSIP TWINS ?? (@thegossiptwins_) on Jan 11, 2018 at 11:43am PST

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