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Tytuł: Stylin (remix)

  • Wykonawca: Foxy Brown
  • Wy¶wietleń: 258

  
   REEEEMMMIXXX!!
  
  [B.G.]
  Bows, I see you there!
  I see you Mike! I see you Roy!
  Keep your hands up nigga keep fightin
  
  [Foxy Brown]
  Remix
  
  [Verse 1 - B.G.]
  Mami, boss nigga, boss bitch
  Boss whips with boss chips
  Drive Escalade on boss blades
  Sitten on them twenty-tre
  and thats on some stop and go
  When I pull up the car stop the rims still flow
  Picture me rollin like this
  Burberry, Gucci, interior so slick
  Me and Foxy with the matchip whips
  That Benz, that Bently, Lambourgini luxury shit
  I red carpet my bitch
  Bought up to Jacob and laced my bitch
  I bought a 99 Hummer
  Fuck that I got 99 bundles
  Nigga life is a hustle
  Fuck that little daddy, life is a struggle!
  
  [Chorus]
  [Foxy:]
  Its necessary we styles in Burburry
  And our walk is mean in them Frankie B. jeans boy
  Its necessary we stays in Burburry
  And a Mark Jacob bag and a H-Tod shoe (Whoo)
  [Noreaga:]
  Its necessary we smoke the blueberry
  and we pop that Louie thirteen with my team boy
  Its necessary we rock the Sean John
  With a nice throwback and some Air Force Ones
  
  [Verse 2 - Noreaga]
  See, all that ain't nothin we at the bar frontin
  Its necessary I smokes that blueberry
  When I do white liquor I do it with cranberry
  Niggas fall off top and look at they fans worried
  But uhh, see I don't care bout nothin no more
  I used to act like I like you, I ain't frontin no more
  We used to lay up in the park, (?) buckets and raw
  Now I hope you die slow, plus a nigga thats poor
  See snakes I can't deal with
  Fools they can't bail with
  Stupid, get shot in the foot and get and then killed in
  But still niggas doubt my name
  I move slow like Ozzy Osbourne with a cane
  Ghetto tabernacle, and still buckin at your adam's apple
  All I do is get high and drink Snapple (what?)
  I either coupe it or I lay in the truck
  Check SoundScan this time you stupid fucks
  
  [Chorus]
  
  [Verse 3 - Loon]
  Ay yo this party ain't poppin till I pop in
  Cause you niggas ain't poppin like I'm poppin
  That cris shit, that ain't nothin
  Ay yo try some of THIS shit now you frontin
  This bottle is worth green, Louie the thirteenth
  Got it for thirteen
  Cam got the liquor store
  (?) bout to get the raw
  My man bout to get the door
  Stand there zip ya jaw
  We gon' party tonight
  If push come to shove we catch a body tonight
  No gray goose get loose with bacardi tonight
  Just make sure everybody aight
  Check it out we got the bar over here
  The starts over here
  Niggas that push brand new cars every year
  Young guy, world known from here to Rome
  Just call me the young Sean Combs holmes
  
  [Chorus]
  
  [Verse 4 - Foxy Brown]
  [Foxy Singing:] Ill Nana, Cash Money
  See I got that swagger back and I ain' knowin how to act
  Dunnie chill! I show you how to do this hunnie
  We our own twistin our hip Nautica blue bunny
  Now, brown Bently, we Brooklyn bound
  Bet when I come through your town I be bru-berried down
  Thats my word, y'all bitches got nerve
  Like my shows don't send these hoes straight to the stores
  What the fuck y'all bitches screwin me for?
  I mean, why bother you only make my style harder
  I hit stunner like what up with the rucka what up?
  Bring your toys here show em that they boy here
  Catch me throwin somethin down from (?)
  In a Mark Jacob bag or little somethin from (?)
  Get em to daaance, bust a dance
  In your H-Tod bag and your Frankie B pants
  
  [Chorus]