Foxy Brown:



Brown nigga, uh, cromed out six and shit

Bubblin' layin' up with them Colombians

Oh fuck no, I get this doe, Foxy Brown Mama

Jig suits from Gabbanna

True, all a nigga who you callin'

Bye bye we be flashin', sex lastin' all night long, it's strong

The mattress, ill na na, like Benny Honna stakes

The boogie like a fresh pair of snakes

A talion, Fox Brown the don, loochie y'all

Stallin, sip crystalle on the Cayman Islands

Uh, got gay niggas ready to switch, like Ravano

Turn that mob nigga to snitch, true player to don

From Veneddinni, five carats on the arm, two L's be the bomb

The four hotties, Total and Foxy, sip us some martinis

Bad girl of the year 96 we in gear



Chorus:

I don't need, no one but you, ooh ooh ooh

I don't need no one

I don't need, no one but you, yooouuuu, oh oh oh oh oh



Lil' Kim:



Many people tell me my style is terriffic

Stupendous, tremendous, I bend just a little bit more

Than the average whore, cause I'm focused

I rock Versace lamps and socers

You didn't know I like crack-adile boots and gator suits

The biggest willies, got to fill me, huh

I like the hot wheels, you got a fast car

Like Tracy Chapman you can cruise with this rap star

The mink sporter, the heroin importer, I be that rich bitch

Stack banks by the chips, check it

I spot hits like Spud Mackenzie, I'm Leona Hemsley

Taxes is gettin' axes

It's essential for the presidential, certified testicals

Get sprayed forty decibles, the king and I

All you need in this world, I'm a bad girl

The high pitch freak bitch



Chorus



Da Brat:



Once again I'm all you need with the caramel skin

Fat lucious lickable lips in a jet black bitch

Stackin' ends fulfillin' dreams makin' life complete 

Come take a journey with this funkdefied bitch that can't be beat

Once, twice, second time around for me

Three times more than the lady you'd imagined it be

I been, re-enstated, platinum plated and niggas hated

Relay it that I'm the shit, twelve lookes and a pit

Hot like a chilli pepper, flee for me

You got the blunt give it away to the B-R uh A-T

And check my M3, think I know everything will P-I-she

And you can't keep up with this heffer from the west side streets

I'm talkin mad money, keepin it real

to all the homies who been real to me

It would defeat the purpose for me not to flash my rocks

Cash, I got all his checks and stocks and bonds

Sippin on don