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Lil` Kim

No One Else (Puff Daddy Remix)

820 3 часа назад

Текст песни Lil` Kim - No One Else (Puff Daddy Remix)

Lil` Kim - No One Else (Puff Daddy Remix) слова песни




Foxy Brown:Brown nigga, uh, cromed out six and shitBubblin` layin` up with them ColombiansOh fuck no, I get this doe, Foxy Brown MamaJig suits from GabbannaTrue, all a nigga who you callin`Bye bye we be flashin`, sex lastin` all night long, it`s strongThe mattress, ill na na, like Benny Honna stakesThe boogie like a fresh pair of snakesA talion, Fox Brown the don, loochie y`allStallin, sip crystalle on the Cayman IslandsUh, got gay niggas ready to switch, like RavanoTurn that mob nigga to snitch, true player to donFrom Veneddinni, five carats on the arm, two L`s be the bombThe four hotties, Total and Foxy, sip us some martinisBad girl of the year 96 we in gearChorus:I don`t need, no one but you, ooh ooh oohI don`t need no oneI don`t need, no one but you, yooouuuu, oh oh oh oh ohLil` Kim:Many people tell me my style is terrifficStupendous, tremendous, I bend just a little bit moreThan the average whore, cause I`m focusedI rock Versace lamps and socersYou didn`t know I like crack-adile boots and gator suitsThe biggest willies, got to fill me, huhI like the hot wheels, you got a fast carLike Tracy Chapman you can cruise with this rap starThe mink sporter, the heroin importer, I be that rich bitchStack banks by the chips, check itI spot hits like Spud Mackenzie, I`m Leona HemsleyTaxes is gettin` axesIt`s essential for the presidential, certified testicalsGet sprayed forty decibles, the king and IAll you need in this world, I`m a bad girlThe high pitch freak bitchChorusDa Brat:Once again I`m all you need with the caramel skinFat lucious lickable lips in a jet black bitchStackin` ends fulfillin` dreams makin` life complete Come take a journey with this funkdefied bitch that can`t be beatOnce, twice, second time around for meThree times more than the lady you`d imagined it beI been, re-enstated, platinum plated and niggas hatedRelay it that I`m the shit, twelve lookes and a pitHot like a chilli pepper, flee for meYou got the blunt give it away to the B-R uh A-TAnd check my M3, think I know everything will P-I-sheAnd you can`t keep up with this heffer from the west side streetsI`m talkin mad money, keepin it realto all the homies who been real to meIt would defeat the purpose for me not to flash my rocksCash, I got all his checks and stocks and bondsSippin on don

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