Stylin' Lyrics

Foxy Brown Stylin'

* (-Intro-)
Fever Baby 
OK, alright 
Brooklyn, 
Uh-Oh Uh-Oh 
Yeah Uh Huh 

Bitches throw ya drinks up, Style when we be comin' in 
Niggas throw ya guns up, Whyle when we be runnin in 
And all that ain't nothin, We at the bar frontin 
Its necessary, We stays in Burburry (Whooooo) 

(-Verse 1-) 
You know how it go, Fox and Gav
In a navy blue Rov, Stuttin in Halo 
On the I-95, Keepin it live 
In the hood, in the 5, Front of Kennedy Fried (Whooooo)  
Then slide off with a NBA jump-off 
Or a nice lil' rapper, Whoever money stack up 
Duke, Cop a little H-Tod shoe 
And them little boxer dudes, Get a watch or two (Whoa) 
It aint greed, Yall got kids to feed  f..ck it, All he wanna do is kill it and leave 
So, Lay low and throw the pussy like the free throw 
Brooklyn broad and bet I keep the heat low 

(-Hook-)
Its necessary, We styles in Burburry  
And our walk is mean in them Frankie B. jeans bwoy 
Its necessary, We stays in Burburry 
And a Mark Jacob bag and a H-Tod shoe (Whoo) 
(2X)

(-Verse 2-)
When we walk up in the club, Niggas be like, "OH!" 
They aint got no dough? Bet we be like, "NO!" 
We bout our paper and all that fam 
Rollin through Planet Hollywood knockin that Killa Cam (Whoa) 
Up in V.I.P. with F.B. 
With a nice throw back, Right below a good G
Now, dude is ill, I'm lovin his boys 
I'm all, seing he's gangsta, I'm watching him swift now 
They wanna see us, Bitches they wanna be us 
Fox and Althea in a powder blue two seater 
We the truth in our Juicy sweat suits 
When we come through ya town, Every'ting shut down 

(-Hook 2X-) 

(-Verse 3-) 
20's with the rims, B-custom kitted Bently 
And everything we do, They assist like Jamaal Tinsley 
Cocky bastard, I only spits acid 
Slept on Broken Silence, Fever bout to smash it 
This here's a classic, We keeps it drastic 
I'm all engaged engaged to dough and married to plastic
And you know how we do, Fresh pair Air Force 2's
With the toaster, Kobe pull over (Whoo) 

(-Hook 2X-)