Oh Yeah - Foxy Brown

Oh Yeah - Foxy Brown
Lyrics by：Frederick Hibbert
Composed by：Frederick Hibbert/Eddie Hill/Inga Marchand/Bob Marley
Stick it up mister
Hear what I'm saying sir yeah
Yeah no no no no yeah
Get your hands in the air sir
Woo yeah
Why yo why yo yo yo
Why yo why yagga ya yo
Why yo why yo yo yo
Why yo why yagga ya yo
Yagga yo
I'm the most critically acclaimed rap b***h in the game
Coast to coast stash the gat in holster girl
Dark skinned Christian dior poster girl
I'm a rockin' timbs b***h and a Gucci loafer girl
When they say I'm too pretty to spit rhymes this gritty
Watch y'all thought
I'll be dancin' around in suits like I'm
Pretty let him know how we run this city
Respect my name boogie stay in ya lane
Like the hurricane rains on b***hes like Sugar Shane
And dare one of y'all rap b***hes to mention Fox name
What's beef beef is when your brought think it's sweet
See I'm frontin' in the streets and let my gat leak
Why yo why yo yo yo
Why yo why yagga ya yo
Why yo why yo yo yo
Why yo why yagga ya yo
Yagga yo check uh
It's like I'm in my own world
I speak how I feel
Sometimes I feel like
I'm just too real
I love to stack riches
No disrespect y'all
I respect the rap game but
I don't with rap lanes
I'm speakin' from my heart
It's not that I'm too good I'm just hood
Been like this
Since young brought
Number when I bust my in ninety six
Y'all ain't never see me flick up with them fake a*s chicks
See this smile up in your face turn around and pop s**t
You a industry check I'm a in the streets check
I might breeze through Chloe or they find your Tiffs
But other than that it's just me and my six
Why yo why yo yo yo
Why yo why yagga ya yo
Why yo why yo yo yo
Why yo why yagga ya yo
Yagga yo
I dream filthy
My moms and pops mixed it with the Trini' rum and whiskey
Uh proper set off
Six sped off let off
I speak calm
Gangsta and pose off like Screechie Dan bwoy
Who y'all know rock Prada like Fox
Pop bottles in the back of the cellar with Donatella
Cartier wrist wear Pasha cage face
Got 'em 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 ah go dun di place
I'm like Marion Jones what
Who the wan' race
Listen never trippin' never catch brown slippin'
What y'all only nice around mics like Pippen
S**t to all my thugs that's bloodin' or crippin'
I'm still shittin'
Still lowridin' and switch hittin'
Why yo why yo yo yo
Why yo why yagga ya yo
Why yo why yo yo yo
Why yo why yagga ya yo
Yagga yo
Yeah
Oh yeah
Na na