Wrist – Chris Brown


Wrist, trill, wrist, trill

Wrist, trill, wrist, drippin’ and drippin’

Wrist (Skrt, skrt), tip (Woo), four, tip (Woo)

Wrist drippin’, drippin’, drippin’, drippin’, drippin’, drippin’, drippin, drippin’ (Woo)

My wrist ’bout 30 below (Low)

Why would I be worried ’bout hoes? (Why would?)

And if you ain’t ever leanin’, swervin’ in traffic

You ain’t sip that dirty before (That dirty dirty)

Catch me tippin’ on 4’s (Skrt)

Diamonds drippin’, prolly sippin’ on 4’s

Ferragamo slippers dipped ’em in gold

With so many women, think I’m pimpin’ them hoes

Wrist drippin’, 4’s tippin’

Wrist drippin’, 4

‘Cause my wrist still drippin’, 44’s still tip

In the cut with my hittas (Gang) No, they do not miss

I’m a champagne-pourin’ nigga, I love big asses and tits (Show me them tits)

And if you’re here just to witness, I just promise this

Hold my wrist (Skrt, skrt), tip, four (Four), tip

Wrist, drip (Drip), 44’s tip

Hold my wrist (Wrist), tip (Tip), four (Four), tip (Tip)

Wrist (Wrist), drip (Drip), 44’s tip (Drippin’, drippin’, drippin’)

No he not ballin’ like us, who the fuck he think he is? (He a lame ass boy, nigga)

You gotta come to my city, you gotta see how we live (Pull up with the drug dealers)

You should just come on the bed, I should just fuck you right now

Oh just forget what I said, I just be thinkin’ out loud

Thinkin’ out loud, thinkin’ out loud

Can I hit in the mirror? (Yeah) I wanna see your body clearer

Let’s think out loud, think out loud

Got my wrist doin’ 85 in a 35, 35, 35

Wrist, tip, four (Oh), tip (Hold my wrist)

Wrist, drip, 44’s tip (Oh)

Hold my wrist, tip (Hold it), four, tip

Wrist, drip (Oh my), 44’s tip (Skrt, skrt)

My wrist 30 below (Woo)

It cost ’bout 40, it’s 50 on me (Ah)

My neck is retarded, but nigga, I’m geeked

My bitch is a baller, but she from the streets

So don’t get her started

Handcuffs like I got arrested homie

Ferragamo’s on me, got me flexin’ on ’em

Mud, mud, I got all these taxes on me

Diamonds shinin’, that’s them VVSes on me

Leanin’ off Activis (Ah)

Tippin’ on fours, thinkin’ ’bout when them hoes used to sleep on me like mattresses (Mattresses)

But that’s how it go, now I’m gettin’ that dough, and I’m ’bout to count up like it’s calculus (Calculus)

(Actually) I got my name off that trappin’ shit (Ah)

But I got the fame off this rappin’ shit (Rappin’ shit)

Now my watch and my chain is immaculate (Oh)

Bitch, go ‘head, look at my

Wrist, tip (Oh my), four, tip (Oh my)

Wrist, drip (Oh my), 44’s tip (Oh my)

Hold my wrist, tip (Oh my), four, tip (Oh my) (Wrist)

Wrist, drip (Oh my), 44’s tip (Oh my) (Yeah)

Wrist, tip, four, tip (Oh my)

Wrist, drip, 44’s tip (Oh)

Exploring the Vibe of “Wrist”

“Wrist” by Chris Brown oozes with bravado and extravagance, blending vivid imagery of luxury and the street lifestyle. The lyrics are laced with references to opulent jewelry, expensive cars, and the rewards of success, symbolized by the ever-dripping wrist—an allusion to flashy watches and diamonds. Brown’s delivery is both rhythmic and hypnotic, emphasizing the repetitive nature of the hook to create a catchy, club-ready anthem. Lines about “leanin’ off Activis” and “tippin’ on fours” showcase Southern hip-hop influences, while the braggadocious tone underscores a sense of triumph over adversity. Amid the showy flex, there’s a reflective undercurrent, as Brown acknowledges the journey from being doubted to achieving fame and fortune.

Song Credits

  • Artist: Chris Brown
  • Songwriters: Chris Brown, Poo Bear, and others
  • Release Year: 2015
  • Label: RCA Records

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