Foxy Brown - I`ll Be 
[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 DeVitoes, small niggaz 
All I see is the penny heaters, that`s all niggaz 
No shark in this year raise it bigga 
Fifteen percent make the whole world sit up 
and take notice, Na Na take over 
Y`all take quotas, to hit papa 
Chorus: Jay-Z 
Straight out the gate y`all, we drop hits 
Now tell me, how nasty can you get 
All the way from the hood to your neck of the woods 
It`s ripped, one thing for sure -- I`ll be good 
(repeat 2X) 
FOXY:I`m 2 Live, Nasty As I Wanna Be 
JAY-Z: Don`t shake your sassy ass in front of me 
`fore I take you there and tear your back out 
FOXY:That shit ain`t happened since The Mack was out 
[Foxy] 
Uhh, rollin for Lana, dripped in Gabbana 
Nineties style, you find a style 
Right away it`s the fit, wanna taste the shit 
Put me on a bass, and throw your 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 by these mil`s I posess 
Never settle for less, I`m in excess 
Not inexpensive DVS 
To the two, that`s just the way I`m built 
Nasty -- what, classy, still 
Chorus 
[Jay-Z] 
Well you can hoe what I got, roll with 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, wit Irv in the spot 
Word middie, the cop `n biddie 
Uhh, I`m the bomdigi, punana 
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 sayin, what`s the sense in delayin 
I`m tryin 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