Hit It lyrics

Now what I do,
So what I do,
Betta tellem what I do,
When it comes to this game sh*t I know how to move,
I am a fresh kid check my style meter,
Fresh to def kid call me soul heater,
I make em drop it low they do my dance all on the floor,
Into the floor baby and then out of the door,
Must be outta my head like my brains scrambled like eggs,
Get the cameras off me n*gga hop the bar n*gga hop it for my deed,
My style is super sick! and there aint no competitors,
And they can sh*t cuz they can pray cuz m the predator,

I I rock,
M the sh*t u turds,
Check my ipod,
Such a f*ckin nerve,
M flyin higher than the fire on the sirens,
When the plane is slowly flyin then blowing sky haven cars,

Lemme see that as* on the floor,
If I give it you I know u gonna want mine,
I wanna see that how you do that on ya toe,
On mark bet ya ready get set go,
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/c/chris_brown/hit_it.html ]
Where she goin, aah.
She goin, ahh...
She goin, ahh...
She goin, ahh...

She gotta colour lil booty as she throwin back,

And when she throw it back I gotta throw a rack,
She goin, ahh...
She goin, ahh...
She goin, ahh...

She gotta colour lil booty as she throwin back,
And when she throw it back I gotta throw a rack,
She goin, ahh...
She goin, ahh...
She goin, ahh...

Lemme see that as* on the floor,
If I give it you I know u gonna want mine,
I wanna see that how you do that on ya toe,
On mark bet ya ready get set go,

Hit it...
Hit it...
Hit it...
She go she go lemme

Hit it...

She go she go lemme

Let go let go let go...

Hit it...

Hit it...

Hit it...
Lemme hit it...

I told ya is that right,
M the coldest here,
Wat the f*ck ya talkin I got my chandelier,
Air homie down like diamond here like...

Clap for me b*tch...
Clap for me b*tch...