Murda Mami (feat. Rick Ross)

Foxy Brown

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    Yeah! Pussies don't get pussy
    Brooklyn (uh-huh)

    Kinda short, dark-skinned, she a fly lil' bitch
    Be up in all them clubs spillin dom p and shit
    Know the boy stunt, jonathan kelsey clutch
    Yves saint laurent fronts on her bags to the pumps
    D's love her aura, balenciago fedora
    Lame niggaz bore her, struttin like she kimora
    She'll take a kilo and stuff it up in the coochie
    Quicker than ron, stash it between her coochie (ha ha)
    Breeze through the hood, niggaz treat her like a o.g.
    First bitch in the hood, with the bentley coupe gt (yes)
    Brooklyn is the team, alexander mcqueen
    Bustin down a bird and balance it with a beam
    Five five, slanted eyes, bitch walk is mean
    Mahushi ron bracelets and armani jeans
    They're called skinny, my bitch is like a rasta with it
    Black car, red bottoms, only mobster in it

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    It's like damn, bitch, niggaz lovin me now
    Oh-nine bonnie & clyde doin it now - whoa
    Murder murder, these bitches ain't never heard of
    Gettin money, gettin hurt up, impatient to leak them burners

    Aiyyo ross, send them bitches to the boss
    The blood claat flyest bad bitch in new york
    Y'all hoes better bow the fuck down and pay homage
    I'm ten million sold and that's soundscan knowledge
    And all y'all rat bitches sound garbage
    While me and ross like the hood version of bombings
    Bars give me style like when you steppin in my
    The 38 special in my chanel sock
    Now I got the llama and ermet's dark
    Word to sly swifter fox who above me?
    Say hello in pumps, nickelus curt with that bomb
    So ladies raise your glass to this man song

    Money ain't a thing, just look at my pinkie rings
    So many numbers in the bank, shit could never be the same
    Tall four velours, withdrawals by michael kors
    And I watch a pretty penny I'm talkin hundred or more
    My critique for 'leet, not for the cheap
    And my money in the street way longer than my receipt
    Dealin with the money, no (monie) all (in the middle)
    I'm dealin with opponents, they gettin riddled
    Box niggaz up, on the ropes
    Louis sneakers, louis luggage, the colognes and soaks
    Smellin like money, my body tatted with hundreds
    Oh-nine bonnie clyde, gotta live with it like uh

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