[Foxy Brown] Brown nigga, uh, chromed out six and shit Bubblin' layin' up with them Colombians Oh fuck no, I get this doe, Fox Brown Mama Jig suits from Gabbanna True, balla nigga who you callin' Papa we be flashin', sex lastin', all night long, it's strong The mattress, Ill Na Na, like Benihana steaks The boogie like a fresh pair of snakes Italian, Fox Brown the don, Gucci on Stylin, sip Crystal on the Cayman Islands Uh, got gay niggas ready to switch, like Ravano Turn that mob nigga to snitch, true player to don From Veneddinni, five carats on the arm, jew-els be the bomb The four hotties, Total and Foxy, sip us some martinis Bad girl of the year 96, Pam Grier, uh!
[Chorus:] I don't need, no one but you, ooh ooh ooh I don't need no one I don't need, no one but you, yooouuuu, oh oh oh oh oh
[Lil' Kim] Many people tell me my style is terriffic Stupendous, tremendous, I bend just a little bit more Than the average whore, cause I'm focused I rock Versace lamps and saucers You didn't know I like crack-adile boots and gator suits The biggest willies, got to fill me, huh I like the hot wheels, you got a fast car Like Tracy Chapman you can cruise with this rap star The mink sporter, the heroin importer, I be that rich bitch Stack banks by the chips, check it I spot hits like Spud Mackenzie, I'm Leona Hemsley Taxes is gettin' axes It's essential for the presidential, certified testicals Get sprayed forty decibles, the king and I All you need in this world, I'm a bad girl The high pitch Queen Bitch
[Chorus]
[Da Brat] Once again I'm all you need with the caramel skin Fat lucious lickable lips in a jet black bitch Stackin' ends fulfillin' dreams makin' life complete Come take a journey with this funkdefied bitch that can't be beat Once, twice, second time around for me Three times more than the lady you'd imagined it be I been, re-enstated, platinum plated and niggas hated Relay it that I'm the shit, twelve lookes and a pit Get hot like a chili pepper, flee for me You got the blunt give it away to the B-R uh A-T And check my M3, think I know everything will P-I-she And you can't keep up with this heffer from the west side streets I'm talkin mad money, acting funny with all the phonies Keepin it real with homies who been real with me It would defeat the purpose for me not to flash my rocks Cash, count all his cheques, invest stocks and bonds Sippin on Don
[Chorus]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
