11. Foxy Brown (feat. Spagga Benz) Oh Yeah Lyrics

I'm the most critically acclaimed, rap b____ in the game
Coast to coast, stash the gat in holster girl
Dark skinned, Christian Dior poster girl
Mo' rockin Timbs b____ and the Gucci loafers girl
n____z say I'm too pretty to spit rhymes this gritty
f___ y'all thought? Be dancin around in suits like I'm {Diddy}
Pretty, show n____z how we run this city
Respect my name, Boogie n____, stay in ya lane
Like The Hurricane, rains on b____es like Sugar Shane
And dare one of y'all rappin chicks to mention Fox name
"What's Beef?" Beef is when b____es think it's sweet
See y'all 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
It's like I'm in my own f___in world, I speak how I feel
Sometimes I feel like I'm just too f___in real
I love to stack riches, no disrespect y'all
I respect the rap game, but I don't f___ with rap b____es
I'm speakin from my heart
It's not that I'm too good, I'm just hood
Been like this from the f___in start
Since I bust my gun in ninety-six
Y'all never see me flick up with them fake-a__ chicks
b____es smile up in your face, turn around and pop s___
You a industry b____, I'm a in the streets b____
I might breeze through Prada, Chloe or Tiffs
But, other than that it's 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 y'all know rock Prada like Fox
Pop bottles in the back of the cellar with Donatella
Cartier wrist wear, Pasha Kay face
Got n____z stand in line just to get a sneak taste
Act like y'all don't 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
I'm like Marion Jones, what, who the FLUCK wan' race?
Listen, never trippin, never catch Brown slippin
f___, y'all only nice around mics like Pippen
s___, to all my thugs that's Blood'n or Crip'n
I'm still s___tin, still lowridin and switch-hittin n____

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