Oh Yeah - Foxy Brown feat Spagga Benz

I'm the most critically acclaimed, rap b_tch in the game
Coast to coast, stash the gat in holster girl
Dark skinned, Christian Dior poster girl
Mo' rockin Timbs b_tch and the Gucci loafers girl
N_ggaz say I'm too pretty to spit rhymes this gritty
F_ck y'all thought? Be dancin around in suits like I'm {Diddy}
Pretty, show n_ggaz how we run this city
Respect my name, Boogie n_gga, stay in ya lane
Like The Hurricane, rains on b_tches like Sugar Shane
And dare one of y'all rappin chicks to mention Fox name
"What's Beef?" Beef is when b_tches think it's sweet
See y'all frontin in the streets and let my gat meet ya

Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you

Check, uhh
It's like I'm in my own f_ckin world, I speak how I feel
Sometimes I feel like I'm just too f_ckin real
I love to stack riches, no disrespect y'all
I respect the rap game, but I don't f_ck with rap b_tches
I'm speakin from my heart
It's not that I'm too good, I'm just hood
Been like this from the f_ckin start
Since I bust my gun in ninety-six
Y'all never see me flick up with them fake-ass chicks
B_tches smile up in your face, turn around and pop sh_t
You a industry b_tch, I'm a in the streets b_tch
I might breeze through Prada, Chloe or Tiffs
But, other than that it's just me and my six

Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you

I dream filthy
My moms and pops mixed it with the Trini' rum and whiskey
Uhh, proper set off
Six sped off, gats let off, I speak calm
Gangsta, and pours off like Screechie Don, bwoy
Who y'all know rock Prada like Fox
Pop bottles in the back of the cellar with Donatella
Cartier wrist wear, Pasha Kay face
Got n_ggaz stand in line just to get a sneak taste
Act like y'all don't know I keeps gat beneath waist
And like a hundred thou' each crib in each safe
When Fox come through she have a gun in the place
I'm like Marion Jones, what, who the FLUCK wan' race?
Listen, never trippin, never catch Brown slippin
F_ck, y'all only nice around mics like Pippen
Sh_t, to all my thugs that's Blood'n or Crip'n
I'm still sh_ttin, still lowridin and switch-hittin n_gga

Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you
Oh yea, We coming for you

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