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Song title: Foxy Brown - Oh Yeah

Edit By: 216.73.216.11

Im the most critically acclaimed, rap bitch in the game
Coast to coast, stash the gat in holster girl
Dark skinned, christian dior poster girl
Mo rockin timbs bitch and the gucci loafers girl
Niggaz say Im too pretty to spit rhymes this gritty
Fuck yall thought?  be dancin around in suits like Im {diddy}
Pretty, show niggaz how we run this city
Respect my name, boogie nigga, stay in ya lane
Like the hurricane, rains on bitches like sugar shane
And dare one of yall rappin chicks to mention fox name
Whats beef?  beef is when bitches think its sweet
See yall frontin in the streets and let my gat meet ya

Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you

Check, uhh
Its like Im in my own fuckin world, I speak how I feel
Sometimes I feel like Im just too fuckin real
I love to stack riches, no disrespect yall
I respect the rap game, but I dont fuck with rap bitches
Im speakin from my heart
Its not that Im too good, Im just hood
Been like this from the fuckin start
Since I bust my gun in ninety-six
Yall never see me flick up with them fake-ass chicks
Bitches smile up in your face, turn around and pop shit
You a industry bitch, Im a in the streets bitch
I might breeze through prada, chloe or tiffs
But, other than that its just me and my six

Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you

I dream filthy
My moms and pops mixed it with the trini rum and whiskey
Uhh, proper set off
Six sped off, gats let off, I speak calm
Gangsta, and pours off like screechie don, bwoy
Who yall know rock prada like fox
Pop bottles in the back of the cellar with donatella
Cartier wrist wear, pasha kay face
Got niggaz stand in line just to get a sneak taste
Act like yall dont know I keeps gat beneath waist
And like a hundred thou each crib in each safe
When fox come through she have a gun in the place
Im like marion jones, what, who the fluck wan race?
Listen, never trippin, never catch brown slippin
Fuck, yall only nice around mics like pippen
Shit, to all my thugs thats bloodn or cripn
Im still shittin, still lowridin and switch-hittin nigga

Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you
Oh yea, we coming for you