Текст песни Total f Da Brat, Foxy Brown, Lil` Kim - No One Else 12"
Total f Da Brat, Foxy Brown, Lil` Kim - No One Else 12" слова песни
[Foxy Brown]Brown nigga, uh, chromed out six and shitBubblin` layin` up with them ColombiansOh fuck no, I get this doe, Fox Brown MamaJig suits from GabbannaTrue, balla nigga who you callin`Papa we be flashin`, sex lastin`, all night long, it`s strongThe mattress, Ill na na, like Benihana steaksThe boogie like a fresh pair of snakesItalian, Fox Brown the don, Gucci onStylin, sip Crystal 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, jew-els be the bombThe four hotties, Total and Foxy, sip us some martinisBad girl of the year 96, Pam Grier, uh!Chorus: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 oh[Lil` 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 saucersYou 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 Queen BitchChorus[Da 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 pitGet hot like a chili 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, acting funny with all the phonieskeepin it real with homies who been real with meIt would defeat the purpose for me not to flash my rocksCash, count all his cheques, invest stocks and bondsSippin on Don