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Oh yeah Foxy Brown (verse 1) I'm the most crittically acclaimed, raptress in the game Coast to coast, stash the gat in holster girl Dark skin, Christian Dior poster girl Mo' rockin' timbs chicks and the Gucci loafers girl When they say I'm too pretty to spit rhymes this gritty What you thought Ill be dancing around in suite's like I'm Diddy Let 'em know how we run this city Respect my name, boogie, uhh, stay in ya lane Like The Hurricane, ran on snitches like Suga Shane And dare one of you rappin' chicks to mention Fox name What's Beef? Beef is when yall broads think its sweet I front in the street and let my gat eat cha! 1- Oh yea, We coming for you (6 x's) (verse 2) It's like I'm in my own fucking world I speak how I feel, sometimes I feel like I'm just too fucking real I love to stack riches, no disrespect yall I respect the rap game, but I don't roll with rap lames I'm speakin' from my heart, it's not that I'm too good, I'm just hood Been like this since a young broad, remember when I bust my gun in ninety-six Yall never see me hook up, with them fake ass rap chicks See 'em smile in ya face, turn around pop slick You a indusrty chick, i'm a in the streets chick I might grease them clones, Fendi and tips Other than that it's just me and my spliffs repeat 1 (verse 3) I drinks filthy, my mom and pops mixed it that trimmy rum and woodsky Proper set off, six beat off, gats let off I speak calm young stuff, and pours off like a don, boy Who yall know rock Prada like Fox Pop bottls in the back of the cellar with Donnatella Cartier wrist wear, Kosher Kay face Got 'em standing in line just to get a sweet taste Act like he don't know I keep gats benneth waist And like a hundred thou in each crib and each safe When Fox come thur she have a gun in the place Like Marion Jones, who the FUCK want Grace? Never trippin', never catch Brown slippin' And what yall only nice on mic's like pits and shit For all thugs that bloods and crippin I'm still dippin, still go ridin' and switch hittin' repeat 1 |
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