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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Foxy Brown
Vocals
Method Man
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Charly "Shuga Bear" Charles
Songwriter
Milan Williams
Composer
Lionel Richie
Composer
Shawn Carter
Songwriter
Walter Orange
Composer
Thomas McClary
Composer
William King Jr.
Composer
Clifford Smith
Songwriter
Ronald LaPread
Composer
William Atwell King
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Charly "Shuga Bear" Charles
Producer
Rich Travali
Mixing Engineer
Poke & Tone
Mixing Engineer
Tom Coyne
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Yo na na so ill, first week out
Shipped a half a mil, **** freaked out
She's all about sex, pardon, check your facts
And the track record, I'm all about plaques
Shakin' my ass half naked, lovin' this life
Waitin' for Kim album to drop, knowin' it's tight
Standin' center stage, closin' the show, holdin' a gat
Since you opened up, I know you're hoping it's whack
****, screamin' my name on record straight whylin'
Maybe I'll answer back when you reach a hundred thousand
This is ladies' night and the Mercedes's tight
When I'm coming home? Maybe tonight
Leave my food by the microwave, kiss the baby good night
It's my time to shine, it's playtime tonight
I'ma try to stand my ground, know when I fall
I left your ass home alone, hopin' I call
Who's got the illest pussy on the planet?
Sugar walls comin' down, **** can't stand it
The ill na na, true Absolut Vodka
Straight shots for the has-beens and have-nots, dolla, dolla
Real and it don't stop, we movin' up
First the mansion, then the yacht, sound proper
Straight cash get got, bloodhounds
Tryna hunt down the Brown Fox, the ill na na
No more sexin' me all night, thinkin' it's alright
While I'm lookin' over your shoulder, watchin' the hall light
You hate when it's a ball, right? Ladies, this ain't handball
**** hit these walls right before I call Mike
In the morning when it's all bright, eggs over easy
Hope you have my shit tight when I open my eyes
While I'm eating, getting dressed up, this ain't your pad
I left some money on the dresser, find you a cab
No more sharin' I pain, sharin' I made
It's time to outslick ****, ladies sharin' our game
Put it in high gear, flip the eyewear
Nas ruled the world but now it's my year
And from here on, I solemnly swear
To hold my own like Pee-Wee in a movie theater
Yeah, I don't need a man's wealth
But I can do bad by my damn self, and uh
Who got the illest pussy on the planet?
Sugar walls comin' down, **** can't stand it
The ill na na, true Absolut Vodka
Straight shots for the has-beens and have-nots, dollar, dollar
Real and it don't stop, we movin' up
First the mansion, then the yacht, sound proper
Straight cash get got, bloodhounds
Tryna hunt down the Brown Fox, the ill na na
Uh, vodka
Not, not
Dolla, dolla, stop
C'mon, c'mon, yeah, it's the ill na na
No more waitin' to exhale, we takin' deep breaths
Ladies take this over, I be Fox, so peep this
Love thyself, put no one above thee
'Cause ain't nobody gon' love me like me
If he don't do the right thing like Spike Lee
Bye bye, wifey, make him lose his Nikes
Hit the road
Mami told me in order to find a prince, you gotta kiss some toads
Who got the illest pussy on the planet?
Sugar walls comin' down, **** can't stand it
The ill na na, true Absolut Vodka
Straight shots for the has-beens and have-nots, dolla, dolla
Real and it don't stop, we movin' up
First the mansion, then the yacht, sound proper
Straight cash get got, bloodhounds
Tryna hunt down the Brown Fox, the ill na na
Written by: Charly "Shuga Bear" Charles, Clifford Smith, Inga Marchand, Lionel Richie, Milan Williams, Ronald C. La Pread, Shawn Carter, Thomas McClary, Walter Orange, William King, William King Jr.