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6
Foxy Brown feat. Beanie Sigel & Memphis Bleek
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Uh, uh, yeah
This Beanie Sigel
That Philly cat who ain't with that silly rap
Get your weight up, not your hate up
Y'all know how I play, quiet towns, we tie 'em down
Haters wonderin' how I got a position with Roc
'Cause I listened to The Lox and I listened to Watch
While you still sittin' in spots, ditchin' the cops
I'm in a Porsche Box with Fox, glistenin' watch
Or a steel gray Lexus GS4
Desert Eagle metal in the door, pedal to the floor
I'm routin' down South and my aim is to score
Eight cylinders screamin', "Fuck the law"
Got a tank full of gas, trunk full of cash
Hammers in the stash, scanners in the dash
Radar detectors, troopers can't find us
We bubble down ATL and hit the liners
To get glove with some Dirty South thugs
Ball out thugs, go in your house thugs
Talk shit, put blood in your mouth thugs
Thirty-six ounce thugs, stay on route thugs
You know how Mack play, quiet town, tie it down
I supply it now, by the pound
Might front you a Q if you buy a pound
If you didn't try it then, why would you try it now?
Think 'cause Mack rap, wouldn't fire a round into your crown?
I lay you down, retire, you clown
Man, I clap niggas, nap niggas, kill the dirt
Pat-pat with the deuce-deuce, it'll work
Fuckin' broads wearin' thongs and skirts
Catch 'em early in the mornin' while they goin' to work
Be you pretty motherfuckers, stay stuck in the mirror
And you weak motherfuckers only bust out of fear
I know y'all softer than them feathers that they stuff in a bear
I pack three Berettas, never bust in the air
Twist your shit back, spit 'til my gat sit back
Pack four pieces like a Kit-Kat, huh, get that?
Cop Cris' by the six-pack, Range Rov', dock six that
Benz coupe, drop six that
Buggy-eye seven come out, took the six back
Switched to double-R, the double-Rs are, got to get that
You see how we play, cop Cris' on the E-way
Sunk in the seat, gettin' drunk with Bleek
Or the Shark Bar, Brill Simon, pop nine P
While you chicken when you chasin' your high with hot tea
Niggas flash gat money like it's they money
Slap five hundred on back of a tre' twenty
I'm bringin' it to any nigga tryna shoot games
With them motherfuckin' buggy-eye kicks from C.E
But I'm a little nigga, don't speak, I tote heat
Here to shut down your whole operation on the street
Bleek, you know niggas just had to recruit this
My flow drool out like a old nigga's toothless
Who would believe they pump Bleek with Ritalin?
Too hyped up, the weed calm my adrenaline
Broke day on the strip, S.K. in the crib
Hundred crack vials play in the bench
Nickel nine gleam like it's armor rolled up
My squad be armed up, got your nigga arms up
Who the fuck want what? Me and Beans charmed up
With your town under siege, Dillinger in the sleeve
If my gun jam, you niggas squeeze on me
You niggas some cats that'll call D's on me
I'm on on my off game, need a stadium for in stores
Floss chains and I pimp whores
Stay smoked out, shirt be poked out
With the snub-nose eight-six to jump out
You eat what you spit, faggot nigga, die clean
For you actin' tough cat, but in your heart, you serene
I read your body language, you off-balance and don't wanna mangle
You want a challenge, get it brought to you from every angle
This shit'll slow 'em down, I bet that
Your up-front dough and your six, bet that
I got some brick money, cop me a drop, you know how I run it
Six hundred, glassy top
Rock the light gray rich shit, flash the rocks
The red, the yellow, the green cause a traffic stop
Niggas please, never freeze, gon' blast the Glock
Then I show a little Cleveland breeze past the cops
You talk slick, suck dick for money in y'all hand
I'm like, "Bitch, I got more money than your man"
While you get your knees scraped up, cum all on your glands
Nigga, I'm in the V-twiz bustin' on you tramps
Y'all hoes greasy, so I keep my shit easy
Rookie, fuck you know about Glocks and a pot, Boogie?
You know now I rock that shit, parole that shit
Escot that shit, Dolce Gabbat that shit
Hollow point top that shit, niggas tryna aim, pop that shit
Yeah, nigga, I got that shit, you see the ice wrist
Nigga, can you cop that shit? Chanel, crocodile or ostrich
Nigga, whoa, you know my style, I be spendin' they cash
And I show they little niggas some celebrity ass
And give 'em brick, I know it's foul to give this pussy a brick
Fuck it, I let 'em live and lick the tip of my dick
To remind 'em of some rose petals, candles and shit
Or some hydro like the nigga grew a plant in my shit
So that's what it is, that's why them hoes be mad at my shit
See me wildin' in the 4-6, stylin' on they bum shit
Goddess MC, y'all bitches is little foxes
See my girls frontin', flossin' they little watches
Cris', I pops it, niggas be topless
Cats, I fouls on 'em, hoes, I styles on 'em
Nigga, wear y'all out, then air y'all out
Over here, hustle from where? Clear y'all out
Greyhound bitch, stay down bitch
And y'all know Jigga sent me here to lay down shit
I will spray y'all niggas and waste y'all niggas
'Cause I pop niggas and pay y'all niggas
What the fuck?
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