Текст песни Foxy Brown f Jay-Z - Ill Na Na
Foxy Brown f Jay-Z - Ill Na Na слова песни
[Jay-Z]That`s right, papa, that`s rightHow we do, yeah, Ill Na NaUh huh, uh, come on...[Foxy]What up pop, brace yourself as I ride on topClose your eyes as you ride, right out your socksDouble, lose his mind as he grind in the tunnelWanna gimme the cash he made off his last bundleNasty-girl don`t pass me the worldI push to be not the backseat girlDon`t deep throat the C-note she floatMurder she wrote, and keeps the heat closeFirm nigga, we `posed to be the illest on three coastsFamilia, bigga than IcosY`all, Danny DeVitoes, small niggazAll I see is the penny heaters, that`s all niggazNo shark in this year raise it biggaFifteen percent make the whole world sit upand take notice, Na Na take overY`all take quotas, to hit papaChorus: Jay-ZStraight out the gate y`all, we drop hitsNow tell me, how nasty can you getAll the way from the hood to your neck of the woodsIt`s ripped, one thing for sure -- I`ll be good(repeat 2X)FOXY: I`m 2 Live, Nasty As I Wanna BeJAY-Z: Don`t shake your sassy ass in front of me `fore I take you there and tear your back outFOXY: That shit ain`t happened since The Mack was out[Foxy]Uhh, rollin for Lana, dripped in GabbanaNineties style, you find a styleRight away it`s the fit, wanna taste the shitPut me on a bass, and throw your face in it, fuckerNa Na, y`all can`t touch herMy sex drive all night like a truckerlet alone the skills I posessAnd y`all gon` see by these mil`s I posess Never settle for less, I`m in excessNot inexpensive DVSTo the two, that`s just the way I`m builtNasty -- what, classy, stillChorus[Jay-Z]Well you can hoe what I got, roll with the rockThe fella Capo in the candy apple dropWill tears fall to your ears if I don`t stopCan ya throw it like a quarterback, third in the lot?[Foxy]Dig me, I get you locked like Biggie, wit Irv in the spotWord middie, the cop `n biddieUhh, I`m the bomdigi, punanaSexy brown thing, uh, Madon` y`allMake em turn over from the full-court pressureto undress ya and shit all over your assesI ain`t playin knockin out at the WilliamsI`m sayin, what`s the sense in delayinI`m tryin to run G from the P to the A.M.I saw your little thing now I`m swayin, OK`in(ahh, shit... uh, uh)Chorus