Foxy Brown - Tramp Lyrics
(tramp)Whatchu call me? (tramp)Whatchu call me? (tramp)Whatchu call me? (tramp)Whatchu call me?Home girls, attention you must paySo listen close to what i sayDon't take this as no simple rhymeBecause this type of shit happens all the timeNow, what would you do if a broke nigga came by?Would you ***** him or would you deny?Shit, it ain't like he don't know what we likeJust a little bit of ice, carats straight for lifeThen maybe we could talk about us '*****in' tonight'69 no change, in the back of the range, calloway editionIs ya'll mutha*****ers still pushin' expeditions?Won't catch a ***** like na na rollin' in 'emSmall thing, ***** we own thingsGive a ***** if my ice colors orange or sky blueI ***** with you(tramp, tramp, tramp)1 - whatchu call me? (tramp)Whatchu call me? (tramp)Whatchu call me? (tramp)Whatchu call me?(tramp, tramp, tramp)Whatchu call me? (tramp)Whatchu call me? (tramp)Whatchu call me? (tramp)Whatchu call me?(tramp, tramp, tramp)T-r-a-m-p, get the ***** away from meCuz if you get too close i'mm have my folksPut yaþll in emergencyGimme some room, all ya'll niggaz wanna dig in my wombDon't even know me, wanna ***** my friends?Give me head, drive my benzSpendin' lately make me wanna ***** yo' friendSmack yo' *****, take yo' 6, crash yo' shitLeave you numb, make me come, five more timesNeed five mo' bottles to get my shit wetYou ain't even suck the tits yet, shitBreak me off, clothes come off, show me loveLet me hold somethin', freak you off***** you right, then sneak you offNow iþm straight, (bein' broke), i'm 'bout to breeze offRepeat 1And these broke niggaz got some nerveThey be frontin' in the club with they man fursFive niggaz on one bottle of cris'Then he talkin' me to death, ***** you takin' thisWhether he friend or foe', gotta stone my lobesMatter of fact, ***** that, nigga ice my toesAnd whatever ***** you *****, bet iþm twice them hoesAnd i want my ***** licked, after all my showsIt's not a game, that i does my thingAnd if it ain't light gray, betta be on ya wayAnd if my stones ain't blue, no ass for youAnd if my ice ain't red, then you deaded some headAll you tryin' to do is take na na to the tellyPhattin' up my belly, then lock me down, never thatI ball till the day i croak, bet that, gimme thatRepeat 1 until fade
