Foxy Brown - B.K. Made Me Lyrics
* send corrections to the typist(-Hook-)Guiding, a dreamIt's where, we always meetI'm guiding, a dreamIt's where, we alway meet(-Verse One-)Got dreams of ending this *****, My life is miserableMake me end this shit, find my ass in criticalNo, My nightmares come frequent like they ritualsBut my words come swift, divine like the PennicleSee, that's why I rock my shades, so when I cryAnd my eyes are red, I can still hide my painThen I step on stage and, crowd is in a rage andI make the first page and, my mission's completeBut when I step off of stage, it's back to realityProblems still the same, and life's a *****in' tragedyThoughts still the same and, I still dream of dying andTaking some hard shit, to make me feel I'm flying andWish I was told I was carried as lowIn this cold *****in' world, I wanna *****in' explodeGuess it's time for me to depart, know it sounds strangeBut I served my purpose, and I made my markCause...(-Repeat Hook-)(-Verse Two-)As long as the streets know it's a classicFluck all y'all envious bastardsI'm thorough when I'm, reppin' my borough niggaKnow tell me who could ***** wit', y'all put y'all money itI make examples out of *****es, y'all don't really want itSince Ill Na Na, I've been going through dramaAnd I get on my kneesAnd I thank, God for my mommaSince a youngin I been knowin', I be forever flowin'Back in the lab biatch, back in my zoneNo, thou shall not ***** with F to the Izz OBullshit aside, I got y'all rappers by a lanslidePardon me, I'm not your average, I'm a savageWhen it come to this game, I'm as ill as my nameSo Gav and Ant brought me back, I was sick of this rapSick of the fame, sick of niggas hauling my nameNo, I cant quitI'm as real as they getYes, back on the sceneStill reps no pressCause...(-Repeat Hook-)(-Verse 3-)Death before dishonorBorn alone, die aloneMy crew think I'm 7, bought a plane so I could fly aloneNo security, got the nine through the stallionRun through Louie, when I wanna get my style onBody something, get the chair and I'll fry aloneThe skylarking, six be moonwalkingNo, who keeps a floss game like Fox and PrettyIn Kennedy with twenty Louie's like Akeim and SimmiNo, nobody grinning, don't take it as rudeI was a little too gangsta for the Moulin RougeCause...(-Repeat Hook Until End-)
