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Foxy Brown

Stylin` (Remix)

  hip-hop  rap  hip hop  female vocalists  rnb
787 3 часа назад

Текст песни Foxy Brown - Stylin` (Remix)

Foxy Brown - Stylin` (Remix) слова песни




REEEEMMMIXXX!![Baby]Boss, I see you there!I see you Mike! I see you Roy!Keep your hands up nigga keep fightin[Foxy Brown]Remix[Verse 1 - Baby]Mami, boss nigga, boss bitchBoss whips with boss chipsDrive Escalade on boss bladesSitten on them twenty-tre`sand thats on some stop and go`sWhen I pull up the car stop the rims still flow`sPicture me rollin like thisBurberry, Gucci, interior so slickMe and Foxy with the matchip whipsThat Benz, that Bently, Lambourgini luxury shitI red carpet my bitchBought her up to Jacob and laced my bitchI bought a 99 HummerFuck that I got 99 bundlesNigga life is a hustleFuck that little daddy, life is a struggle![Chorus][Foxy:]Its necessary we styles in BurburryAnd our walk is mean in them Frankie B. jeans boyIts necessary we stays in BurburryAnd a Mark Jacob bag and a H-Tod shoe (Whoo)[Noreaga:]Its necessary we smoke the blueberryand we pop that Louie thirteen with our team boyIts necessary we rock the Sean JohnWith a nice throwback and some Air Force Ones[Verse 2 - Noreaga]See, all that ain`t nothin we at the bar frontinIts necessary I smokes that blueberryWhen I do white liquor I do it with cranberryNiggas fall off top and look at they fans worriedBut uhh, see I don`t care bout nothin no moreI used to act like I like you, I ain`t frontin no moreWe used to lay up in the park, Dump buckets of rawNow I hope you die slow, plus a nigga thats poorSee snakes I can`t deal withFools they can`t build withStupid, get shot in the foot and get and then killed inBut still niggas doubt my nameI move slow like Ozzy Osbourne with a caneGhetto tabernacle, and still buckin at your adam`s appleAll I do is get high and drink Snapple (what?)I either coupe it or I lay in the truckCheck SoundScan this time you stupid fucks[Chorus][Verse 3 - Young Gav]Ay yo this party ain`t poppin till I pop inCause you niggas ain`t poppin like I`m poppinThat cris shit, that ain`t nothinAy yo try some of THIS shit now you frontinThis bottle is worth green(What`s that?) Louie the thirteenth(Got what?) Got it for thirteenCam got the liquor store(Where`s the weed) Rugs to get the raw(I know we in there free) My man bout to get the doorStand there zip ya jawWe gon` party tonightIf push come to shove we catch a body tonightNo gray goose get loose with bacardi tonightJust make sure everybody aightCheck it out we got the bar over hereThe starts over hereNiggas that push brand new cars every yearYoung Gav, world known from here to RomeJust call me the young Sean Combs, Homes[Chorus][Verse 4 - Loon]We push Bentley Azure`s, Rock Christian Dior velours,I`m not in the mood for Cris anymore,Bottles of ?, I sip and I pour,Chicks on the floor, They like Loon aint got hits anymore,Picture me for, Picture my wall, No extra plaque,Like beef no extra gat,If you need I`ll molest a track, 50 g`s nothin` less than that,Nigga please I`m the best at that,The rest you cats, Its best you rap,If its a need for you dress like that,I dont stress you cats, That made your doe of haze and hoes,Knowin` that I made my doe of shavin` o,Now I`m poolside, Bathin` robe,2 Mayalasian hoes, All due to my lazy flow,Young boy got crazy doe, Blow crazy dro,But I`m just here to let the ladies know, Uh[Chorus][Verse 5 - Foxy Brown][Foxy Singing:] Ill Nana, Cash MoneySee I got that swagger back and I ain` knowin how to actDunnie chill! I show you how to do this hunnieWe our own twistin our hip Nautica blue bunnyNow, brown Bently, we Brooklyn boundBet when I come through your town I be burburried downThats my word, y`all bitches got nerveLike my shows don`t send these hoes straight to the stores, NowWhat the fuck y`all bitches screwin me for?I mean, why bother you only make my style harderI hit stunner like what up with the rucka what up?Bring your toys here show em that they boy hereCatch me throwin somethin down from (?)In a Mark Jacob bag or little somethin from (?)Get em to daaance, bust a danceIn your H-Tod bag and your Frankie B pants[Chorus]

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