[verse 1][foxy brown]
What y'all know about banging out?
'til there's nothing left stachbox,
Mag 4 all up in the dashboard
Fuck y'all think we get that cash for?
And we gon' front til we die
Throw that money in the sky homie
I rock them louie y'all I'm ready
But it's a necessary I styles in burberry
Young fox I runs hip hop
Niggas know them hits want stop
Bet them clips will pop
Bet i, be in that big body rover
We frontin' hard in the squad lv on the loafers
And I'mma ill bitch I style like I'm 'pose to
Niggas in bing gettin' right off my poster
In the pearl white hatch back lac
Got my swagga back and I' know how to act nigga
My groove is on, my team is strong
Ayo gav please bring the mutherfuckas home and...

[chorus][gavin]
This is what we came to do
Get money playboy we'n playing wit you
Who the one got the streets on lock?
Somebody better call the cops
What we doing huh?

We makin' it she's a hit
Y'all know it's fox (freak out!)
She keeps it hot

[verse 2][foxy brown]
And I bring it to bitches for real special delivery
Five years strong and they still tryna get rid of me
But I'm still here niggas I do this for gav
To keep them young boys frontin' through the ave
Have the team lookin' good I's bes in the hood
Dubs on the wheel and "b"s on the hood
Pop fifty bottles halo too hollywood
I'm so gutter "acky" sweatsuit with the hood
Might flip it on these bitches and throw on a plain sud
Put on a real good shoe looking real fucking good
Start her own label she'll never be able
Now I styles on niggas and I "turns the tables"
Now it meeting with kev and lyor at the round table
In the three-quarter butter-brown sable
Y'all niggas hustling deals
I'm still on the grind tryna peal
Still beating russel for meals

[chorus][gavin]

This is what we came to do
Get money playboy we'n playing wit you
Who the one got the streets on lock?
Somebody better call the cops
What we doing huh?

We makin' it she's a hit
Y'all know it's fox (freak out!)
She keeps it hot

[verse 3][foxy brown]

I raise the week moving the bricks in half a weeks
And it's harder to eat in these brooklyn streets
The truth is y'all bitches only living in booths
I move made sixty deuce off of private [???] nigga
Throw the money out the prowlers roof
I'm bout to tighten the neuse
They talking boots man
Me and gav in the lac
Tyson bout to get them belts back
Brooklyn's back nigga