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RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Текст (слова) песни: Foxy Brown - We Makin` It



Intro:
Yo, turn me up
Verse 1 [Foxy]:
What ya`ll know bout bangin` out?/ Till there`s nothin` left stash box mag 4s all up in the dashboards/ Look, ya`ll think we get this cash for?/ We gon` front till we die/ Throw that money in the sky homie/ I rock the movies ya`ll know already/ But it`s necessary I style in Bergberry/ Young Fox I run hip-hop/ Niggas know them hits won`t stop bet them clips will pop/ Bet I be in that big body Rover/ Frontin` hard in the squad L-V on them loafers/ I`m an ill bitch I styles like I`m supposed to/ Niggas in the big gettin` right off my posters/ In the pearl white hatch back got my swagger back and I don`t know how to act nigga/ My groove is on my team is strong/ Hey yo Gav please bring that motherfucker home(???)
Chorus [Young Gavin]:
This is what we came to do/ Gettin` money playboy we ain`t playin` wit` you/ Who the one that got the streets on lock/ Somebody better call the cops/ What we doin` huh?/ [Sung] We makin` it/ Fever hit/ Ya`ll know it`s Fox/ She keeps it hot
Verse 2 [Foxy]:
And I bring it to bitches for real/ Special delivery/ Five years strong and they still tryin` to get rid of me/ But I`m still here niggas/ I do this for Gav to keep them young boys runnin` through the av/ Have the team lookin` good I be`s in the hood/ Dubs on the wheels and Bs on the hood/ Pop 50 bottles/ Hello to Hollywood/ I`m so gutter athlete`s sweat suit with the hood/ Might flip it on these bitches and throw in a plain sood(???)/ Hit a real good shoot lookin` real fuckin` good/ Start our her label, she`ll never be able/ Now I styles on niggas and I turn the tables/ Now means with Kev and Lyor on the round table/ In a three-quarter butter brown Sable/ Ya`ll niggas hustlin` deals and I`m still on the grind/ Tryin` to appeal still be in bushels of mils
(Chorus [Young Gavin]
Verse 3 [Foxy]:
Irate the weak movin` a brick in half a week/ And it`s hard to eat in these Brooklyn streets/ The truth is you bitches only live in a booth/ I move big sixty deuce that`s Prada goose nigga/ Throw our money out our prowler roof I`m about to tightin` the nooze they talkin` loose/ Man, me and Gav in the blast Tyson`s bout to get them belts back/ Brooklyn`s back nigga

 

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