(verse 1)
I'm the most crittically acclaimed, raptress in the game
Coast to coast, stash the gat in holster girl
Dark skin, Christian Dior poster girl
Mo' rockin' timbs chicks and the Gucci loafers girl
When they say I'm too pretty to spit rhymes this gritty
What you thought Ill be dancing around in suite's like I'm Diddy
Let 'em know how we run this city
Respect my name, boogie, uhh, stay in ya lane
Like The Hurricane, ran on snitches like Suga Shane
And dare one of you rappin' chicks to mention Fox name
What's Beef? Beef is when yall broads think its sweet
I front in the street and let my gat eat cha!
1- Oh yea, We coming for you
(6 x's)
(verse 2)
It's like I'm in my own fucking world
I speak how I feel, sometimes I feel like I'm just too fucking real
I love to stack riches, no disrespect yall
I respect the rap game, but I don't roll with rap lames
I'm speakin' from my heart, it's not that I'm too good, I'm just hood
Been like this since a young broad, remember when I bust my gun in ninety-six
Yall never see me hook up, with them fake ass rap chicks
See 'em smile in ya face, turn around pop slick
You a indusrty chick, i'm a in the streets chick
I might grease them clones, Fendi and tips
Other than that it's just me and my spliffs
repeat 1
(verse 3)
I drinks filthy, my mom and pops mixed it that trimmy rum and woodsky
Proper set off, six beat off, gats let off
I speak calm young stuff, and pours off like a don, boy
Who yall know rock Prada like Fox
Pop bottls in the back of the cellar with Donnatella
Cartier wrist wear, Kosher Kay face
Got 'em standing in line just to get a sweet taste
Act like he don't know I keep gats benneth waist
And like a hundred thou in each crib and each safe
When Fox come thur she have a gun in the place
Like Marion Jones, who the FUCK want Grace?
Never trippin', never catch Brown slippin'
And what yall only nice on mic's like pits and shit
For all thugs that bloods and crippin
I'm still dippin, still go ridin' and switch hittin'
repeat 1