Foxy Brown - I'll Be (LP version) lyrics

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Foxy Brown - I'll Be (LP version) lyrics

[Jay-Z] That's right, papa, that's right How we do, yeah, Ill Na Na Uh huh, uh, come on... [Foxy] What up pop, brace yourself as I ride on top Close your eyes as you ride, right out your socks Double, lose his mind as he grind in the tunnel Wanna gimme the cash he made off his last bundle Nasty-girl don't pa** me the world I push to be not the backseat girl Don't deep throat the C-note she float Murder she wrote, and keeps the heat close Firm n***a, we 'posed to be the illest on three coasts Familia, bigga than Icos Y'all, Danny DeVitoes, small n***as All I see is the penny heaters, that's all n***as No shark in this year raise it bigga Fifteen percent make the whole world sit up And take notice, Na Na take over Y'all take quotas, to hit papa Chorus: Jay-Z Straight out the gate y'all, we drop hits Now tell me, how nasty can you get All the way from the hood to your neck of the woods It's ripped, one thing for sure -- I'll be good (repeat 2X) FOXY: I'm 2 Live, Nasty As I Wanna Be JAY-Z: Don't shake your sa**y a** in front of me 'fore I take you there and tear your back out FOXY: That sh** ain't happened since The Mack was out [Foxy] Uhh, rollin for Lana, dripped in Gabbana Nineties style, you find a style Right away it's the fit, wanna taste the sh** Put me on a ba**, and throw your face in it, f**er Na Na, y'all can't touch her My s** drive all night like a trucker Let alone the sk**s I posess And y'all gon' see by these mil's I posess Never settle for less, I'm in excess Not inexpensive DVS To the two, that's just the way I'm built Nasty -- what, cla**y, still Chorus [Jay-Z] Well you can hoe what I got, roll with the rock The fella Capo in the candy apple drop Will tears fall to your ears if I don't stop Can ya throw it like a quarterback, third in the lot? [Foxy] Dig me, I get you locked like Biggie, wit Irv in the spot Word middie, the cop 'n biddie Uhh, I'm the bomdigi, punana Sexy brown thing, uh, Madon' y'all Make em turn over from the full-court pressure To undress ya and sh** all over your a**es I ain't playin knockin out at the Williams I'm sayin, what's the sense in delayin I'm tryin to run G from the P to the A.M I saw your little thing now I'm swayin, OK'in (ahh, sh**... uh, uh) Chorus