Lyrics - I'll Be by Foxy Brown

(
Jay-
Z)
That's right, papa, that's right
How we do, yeah,
ILL
Na
Na
Uh huh , uh , come on...(
Foxy)
What up pop , brace yourself as
I ride on top
Close your eyes as you ride,right out your socks
Double , lose his mind as he grind in the tunnel
Wanna gimme the cash he made off his last bundle
Nasty-girl don't pass me the world
I push to be not the backseat girl
Don't deep throat the
C-note she float
Murder she wrote,and keeps the heat close
Firm nigga,we' posed to be the illest on three coasts
Familia ,bigga than
Icos
Y'all,
Danny
De
Vitoes, small niggaz
All
I see is the penny heaters,that' all niggaz
Bo shark in this year raise it bigga
Fifteen percent make the whole world sit upand take notice ,
Na
Na take over
Y'all take quotas, to hit papa
Chorus:
Jay-
ZStraight out the gate y'all , we drope hits
Now tell me, how nasty can you get
All the was from the hood to your neck of the woods
It's ripped, one thing for shure --
I'
LL be good(repeat 2x)
FOXY:
I'm 2 live,
Nasty as
I wanna be
JAY-
Z:
Don't shake ur sassy ass in front of me'fore
I take u there and tear ur back out
FOXY:
That shit ain't happend since
The
Mack was out(
Foxy)
Uhh, rollin for
Lana, dripped in
Gabbana
Nineties style, u find a style
Right away it's the fit ,wanna taste the shit
Put me on a bass, and throw ur face in it, fucker
Na
Na, y'all can't touch her
My sex drive all night like a trucker
Let alone the skills i posess
And y'all gon' see bye these mil's
I posess
Never sttle for less ,
I'm in excess
Not inexpensive
DVSTo the 2, that's just the way i'm built
Nasty -- what, classy,still
Chorus(
Jay-
Z)
Well you can how what
I got,roll withe the rock
The fella
Capo in the candy apple drop
Will tears fall to your ears if
I don't stop
Can ya throw it like a quarterback, third in the lot?(
Foxy)
Dig me,
I get you locked like
Biggie,with
Irv in the spot
Word middie, the cop 'n biddie
Uhh,
I'm the bomdigi, puanna
Sexy brown thing ,uh ,
Madon' y'all
Make em turn over from the full-court pressure
To undress ya and shit all over your asses
I ain't playin knockin out at the
Williams
I'm stayin, what's the sense in delayin
I'm trin to run
G from the
P to the
A.
M.
I saw your little thing now
I'm swayin,
OK' in(ahh , shit... uh, uh)
Chorus

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