"B.K. Anthem"

Lemme tell you where I grew up at
Sip mo', threw up at, flip coke, blew up that
Where fake thugs got they vests shoot up at
Brooklyn! Beef, who want that?

I grew up in the thoroist borough - B.K.
Where B.I.G. had everybody rockin' D.K.
Gav was the first dude wit' the C.L.K.
and bricks was gettin' shipped outta east L.A.
It's Brooklyn, where niggaz lives was tooken
Rich cats got knocked and they wallets was tooken
Fourty-three and Hemlock, they fifth bit cock
We cryed when they killed Lenox and popped them rocks
(aiyyo, ya ain't hear, what {the fuck} I just said?)
B.K. - the home of Biggie and Jay
Where niggaz got Will Smith ships, get jiggy all day
Bitches that boost in the city all day
Heckel and Koch, crack spots, federal watch
I grew up here, sip mo', threw up here
Yo the feds snatched two up here, in B.K.
Niggaz in the hood in that all blue and grey
Gorillas got rich from still wells and P.A.

"The Letter"
(feat. Ron Isley)

[Ron Isley]
(shimmering memories.. up in the studio gettin low)
(listening... it's the realest shit I've ever wrote)
This is a letter
From Inga
To my mother, and my brothers, and my baby

[Foxy Brown]
Dear Mommy, I apologize
I know it's because of me that your life is traumatized (and)
it's cause of me that at times you wanna die
But you was always there when your little Na Na cried (and)
When the media said Foxy's ill
You was there when this fame almost got me killed
When I was in the hospital, could not be still
Only you knew the reasons why I popped these pills
And to my friends I love them and I know they care
But, time after time, you was always there
When I did the Vibe cover, holdin my crotch
I was wailin, while you prayed for me hopin I'll stop
Sorry for the times I didn't tell the truth
And I'm sorry for the times when I yelled at you
I love you mommy, sorry that's happened
Please pass the letter to Gavin

[Ron Isley]

"7:30"

Whoa, whoa
What the plurrr is this, YO!

They say I'm 730, say I spaz out
FB is ill, she'll wild out
Can y'all feel my pain?
I can't let it slide
How could I smile when I'm hurtin' so bad inside?

Yo how can we start this
My life is thorough never heartless
I laid it down from the Gate to the St Louis arches
From the windy city to the streets in Cali
To them streets in Houston
My niggas always boostin'
Some bitches always holla
How they don't spend a dolla
But that's because they ain't got it
Now tell me where's the logic
And if I talk it - I've done did it or about to do it
I'm making anthems, got a million niggas bouncin' to it
Bust your guns!
And if that ain't enough then bust again
I've been thuggin' since B-I-Z made "Just A Friend"
Matter of fact ever since Flava Flav was rockin' clocks
And even then there was no bitch that could compare to Fox
Let me head knock, Pretty you wit' me right
This Prada fit me tight, this Gucci fit me right
Who could quickly write like seven joints and it be tight?
You know how hood we sound, you know it's Boogie Brown

"Candy"
(feat. Kelis)

[Kelis]
I taste just like candy, candy
I taste just like candy
So dance with me

[Foxy]
Yo now let me paint y'all a picture
Fox pimp hard, quiet just like a whisper
Don't get it mixed up
Bad little sista
Not bad meaning bad, but bad meaning good
Damn I'm so hood
You should see me in them jeans
It's hard to describe and
Being cocky is just a part of the vibe
I might stop and holla and pop my colla
Maybe a little conceited but that's always needed
Love attention when I'm passing by
And I show a little cleavage and I catch his eye
Just the thought of him eating, I was outside soaking
Duke standing locing, mouth wide open
I walked over, licking my lips
And adjusting my tits and switching my hips
Shit he threw his hand on my waist
Looked in my face and said he wanna know how I taste

"Tables Will Turn"
(feat. Baby Cham)

[Intro: Foxy Brown (Baby Cham)]

Ugh, Ehh, Uh!
(What, WHAT!) (What's bumpin', Baby Cham, Fox Brown) Uh!
Fox Brown, Baby Cham
Ugh, Kingston, Brooklyn, WHAT! Dave Kelly, Can't stop this, We did it again
What?! What?! Uh!
HY-YAH!

[Foxy Brown]
How many times I gotta let yall bitches know I'm,
Why, so many bitches wanna take my flow I'm,
Too hot, Too dope, Flow like that pink Cris and Momosa
Who the fuck dope-ah? (Ehh!)
Niggas wanna run up in my spots and,
Every nigga wanna pull off on my frock and,
Me and Cham do that Yard-Hip Hop and,
Y'all can't fuck with us, We keep niggas boppin' (Let 'em know now)

[Baby Cham]
Tell 'em ah who bwoy we are dey friend
Love to sit in Charlie's in the Benz's or BM's
Our life, Ya livin' right
Get them benjamins, aight? Let them know I'm only in it for them (Holla at us now)
I let dem' know already and I'm tellin' dem' again

"Hood Scriptures"

[Foxy Brown]
HEY, you're 'bout to hear the most incredible shit ever written
Hard spittin', cigar splittin'
PRAY, to your god and to them words in the Biblical scriptures
Critical bitch must, flow to the shit that just fit her
RODE, with the best auto that money can buy me
The best damn mami, Def Jam signed me
HOES, you know they'll never compare to my status
Nothin' matters, I'm the fuckin' baddest see
FAME, is worth it if you got money to match it
I'm hotter than acid and don't even practice
GAME, guess I got it at birth from my momma
Ill Na Na, real drama, see I
BALL, til' I can't or I'm covered by maggots
I straight spaz it and let y'all have it
BLOAW!

Hey...I'm speakin' to the hood!

[Foxy Brown]

"Run Dem"
(feat. Baby Cham)

[Foxy] Whoa
[Cham] A wha de blood claat dem fool dem

[Foxy Brown]
Who the fuck told bitches they could do what I do
And all of a sudden all y'all bitches got accents too
Bad gyal, bitches can't do the shit that I do
Sometime a gal figure it cool - hoo hoo hoo hoo; whoa
I tell a motherfucker this
Some niggaz nowadays move worse than a bitch
Ans as for this chick, me love bum flick on bad man dick so
Got the pussy; I got the live fo'
I'm a grown ass bitch with my own ass shit
Now heat dis and I wan' chat me a go BUSTIN a secret
Y'all big bot-ty man, ya have look man bottom
Pussy watchman, you a trace gyal patton
Fuck who, niggaz wish they could fuck me
Like they never seen a hot gal act like we
Big bumba claat star, push hot car
Big hood, and love back way all day
And the way my man fuck, can't even stand up
And when he gets stiff it cum like ten dicks
Take it through my hole right through my appendix
I got a message; whydontch'all motherfuckers sit on this?

"'Bout My Paper"
(feat. Mystikal)

[Mystikal]
If it ain't about my paper (paper)
The bitch don't call me
(Bitch don't call me)
Cause I'm about my motherfucking business (my business)
So you can kill that talking (kill that talking)
If you ain't got no motherfucking confrontation
Then keep on walking
(Watch out there now)
Cause I'm about to show you what you paid for when you came here
Put your hands up, let's get this motherfucker started

[Foxy]
Who could talk about that money better than me?
Who could stay so hood femininely?
Who stay on 5th Ave spending them g's?
Who's just as controversial as Eminem be?
F-O-X-Y, East Coast, West Side
Who the fuck really want come test I
Don't start no shit tonight
You know them gangsta Brooklyn niggas is quick to fight
But we 'bout our dough - you know how that go
You know Brown come through with the hot ass flow

"Run Yo Shit"
(feat. CNN)

[Noreaga]
Eww!
What the fuck is this?
(What is that?)
This is outrageous
That's some Mario Brothers shit
I come to the studio drunk already
That's how I does it
That's how I does it nigga
(It's nothing!)
We got your back Fox
Fuck these bullshit niggas
These bullshit bitches
(They GI Joe figgas)
They don't really want beef, STRAIGHT UP

Ugh Fox Brown shit, CNN shit
That Brooklyn shit, that Queens shit
Def Jam shit, mother fuckers

Run yo shit niggas
(CNN motherfucker!)

"Na Na Be Like"

Trini.. yeah yes, Pretty Boy
(99 Def Jam) I said it
Fuck y'all bitches want, whoa
I'ma stay poppin shit
Anybody want it? Come see me, what?
Fame.. yagga..

[Foxy Brown]
I flows sicker like, tote quicker like
Na Na pop shit like spit hot shit
Bitches love to gossip, catch me in my crop shit like
I spit flame bitch fuck's my name? Na Na
Like, I'm the bitch Prada wan' pitch
Rude gal, back court, big gun
Big tings a'gwan like, I'm undisputed
Now y'all got to bow when you see me, fuck's my name? Na Na
Like, I'm the bitch pushin big 6
Likkle broad, five foot, pop big shit like
See my clique, ride big dick like
Swiss hole y'know? Handcuff shit like
Supreme bitch, y'all broads is ancient
I'll bank your whole shit, top draft pick like
I'm the Prince Nasheem of this shit
Come test me; and leave with your vest swiss cheese like