Foxy Brown Oh Yeah(feat Spagga Benz Lyrics

Oh Yeah(feat Spagga Benz Lyrics

I'm the most critically acclaimed, rap bitch in the game

 Coast to coast, stash the gat in holster girl

 Dark skinned, Christian Dior poster girl

 Mo' rockin Timbs bitch and the Gucci loafers girl

 Niggaz say I'm too pretty to spit rhymes this gritty

 Fuck y'all thought?  Be dancin around in suits like I'm {Diddy}

 Pretty, show niggaz how we run this city

 Respect my name, Boogie nigga, stay in ya lane

 Like The Hurricane, rains on bitches like Sugar Shane

 And dare one of y'all rappin chicks to mention Fox name

 "What's Beef?"  Beef is when bitches think it's sweet

 See y'all frontin in the streets and let my gat meet ya

 

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 

 Check, uhh

 It's like I'm in my own fuckin world, I speak how I feel

 Sometimes I feel like I'm just too fuckin real

 I love to stack riches, no disrespect y'all

 I respect the rap game, but I don't fuck with rap bitches

 I'm speakin from my heart

 It's not that I'm too good, I'm just hood

 Been like this from the fuckin start

 Since I bust my gun in ninety-six

 Y'all never see me flick up with them fake-ass chicks

 Bitches smile up in your face, turn around and pop shit

 You a industry bitch, I'm a in the streets bitch

 I might breeze through Prada, Chloe or Tiffs

 But, other than that it's just me and my six

 

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 

 I dream filthy

 My moms and pops mixed it with the Trini' rum and whiskey

 Uhh, proper set off

 Six sped off, gats let off, I speak calm

 Gangsta, and pours off like Screechie Don, bwoy

 Who y'all know rock Prada like Fox

 Pop bottles in the back of the cellar with Donatella

 Cartier wrist wear, Pasha Kay face

 Got niggaz stand in line just to get a sneak taste

 Act like y'all don't know I keeps gat beneath waist

 And like a hundred thou' each crib in each safe

 When Fox come through she have a gun in the place

 I'm like Marion Jones, what, who the FLUCK wan' race?

 Listen, never trippin, never catch Brown slippin

 Fuck, y'all only nice around mics like Pippen

 Shit, to all my thugs that's Blood'n or Crip'n

 I'm still shittin, still lowridin and switch-hittin nigga

 

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you

 Oh yea, We coming for you