Ver Video We Makin It By Foxy Brown 2024 en línea | Musica Lyrics

Foxy Brown - We Makin It Lyrics

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 them Louis' ya'll know already/
But it's necessary I style in Burberry/
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 pen 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 them motherfuckin' horns in

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?/

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 ave/
Have the team lookin' good I be's in the hood/
Dubs on the wheels and Bs on the hood/
Pop 50 bottles/ halo to Hollywood/
I'm so gutter Acki sweat suit with the hood/
Might flip it on these bitches and throw on the Plein Sud/
Wit 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 meetings with Kev and Lyor at 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 beatin' Russell for 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 noose they talkin' loose/
Man, me and Gav in them Lacs,
Tyson's bout to get them belts back/ Brooklyn's back nigga