Lil' Kim

Lil' Kim - Fuck You lyrics

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Nine shots greet ya  greet ya
 Hang with Little Ceaser
 But don't sling pizza  pizza
 The gat carryin'
 Rap barbarian
 '96 Blake Carrington
 I brings the most dangerous diseases
 Trife please mc's of all types
 Homosexuals dice intellectuals
 Like my flow  my charm
 Wifey on the arm and stay fuckin other bitches
 Style never switches
 Inhale  exhale
 Bail Neno Brown out for shooting up a townhouse
 And him **sted** kids fled
 Rumors was dead
 No beef with no cliques
 Niggas don't want shit
 Trife impresses
 Lex's, GsSs
 Chicks in iceberg dresses
 Who the bestest
 M.A.F.I.A.
 But faggot niggas wanna spoil it
 Stop me from having marvel forces,
 Den gold Taurus
 I force it down your throat like sodomy
 Mama proud of me
 Cuz I stopped killing niggas for free

 Lil Kim:
 Uh, Uh, The Anne Klein
 Sporting coke
 Snorting niggas lovely
 I keep my pussy fresh like Dudley
 Watch this show as my flow bubble over
 Like Mo's and Cristal's
 Ain't here to bust a pistal
 Sippin hard on Cristal
 Dreaming counts, large amounts
 Cuz Frank don't play with lai money
 Get high money
 Ready to die ****
 No if, ands, or maybes
 I'm not your average lady
 Put that on my 380
 Me and my bitch catch flights to Texas
 Niggas call us Crystal and Alexus
 Bump into some hoes that be in Huston busting
 Trunk full of Donna Karen in the rental LeBaron
 Uh, who us, we just swerving
 In the dark blue Suburban
 Drinking Burbon
 With Heinekens for the chaser
 Police'll never chase us
 We too fly for that
 Process the fingerprinted
 We too **** for that
 I be, flirtin for certain
 Wearing short skirts and
 But ain't no **** certain
 See, that's the difference between me and other bitches
 They fuck to get they riches
 I fuck to bust a nut
 Lil Kim not a slut
 I gotta reputation to look out for
 Plus my boss is a outlaw

 Biggie:
 Uh, these mothafuckas think they tough guys
 Mothafuckas better hold hands stepping on ***
 Foggot ass mothafuckas
 Really ain' t no true players

 Larceny:
 Death comes the **** that oppose the clique
 Dick-riders get off the dick
 Cuz Larceny got guns for yall
 And if I get bagged my lawyers got tons of ones for yall
 Catching cases, niggas pull they macs out
 Niggas getting mad cuz I dug they backs out
 Then I blacks out
 Start shooting kids, cribs suspicious
 Making my escape jumping bridges
 Malicious, sometimes the danger taste delicious
 Rule number three don't take love from no bitches
 You know what makes me much stronger than you
 I can take pain much longer than you
 So what you gonna do when I run up in that ass, creep
 How you wanna spit a ***grease
Get this song at:
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amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Big Beat Records, Inc.

Details:

Released in: 1996

Language: English

Appearing on: Hard Core (1996)

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