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Correct Hardcore Lyrics
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Artists: F
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Firm
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Correct Hardcore
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Lyrics:
[Nas Escobar] What? That Firm shit, that Firm shit, what's that? What? That Firm shit, that Firm shit Everyday I'ma polli bout, who's the best hotty out? And will they ever let Gotti out? Am I real? Feel free to try me out Guaranteed eternally, you signin out I only bang quarters, not a thing short of Than a dime, rhyme like a crime scene reporter Thought shorty would lose but the game taught her Hoodrat just like Thelma, James' daughter Killer put you on, got you laced in Bucon Bledest stone, where the place you call home? [Foxy Brown] Brooklyn girl, plotted then I took the world You know the whole drill, Na Na so Ill Make mills and escro, decimals Cancoon, Mexico, X-and-O Bracelets got all, along with gold Now it's platinum rings, songs is sold Hot from the jumpstart, let the game spark Thriller, will I shot to the top of the charts [Nas Escobar] Head honcho, cat Esco Push everything from the Coupe to the Fo' Never love a ho, get my dick sucked Smoke the chocolate, trick my chicks up Pass all the ki's to mami, whip it up Fox get the B's, Bonnie live it up Chorus: (x2) Your love, so good You deserve some hardcore [Nas] That Firm shit, that Firm shit [Foxy Brown] Firm, nigga what? Get my twat licked Never love a trick, get him for his chips Fuck him and his dick, nigga where the six? He actin like a bitch, he should've known this Got the stone the wrist, I ain't no bonin this Bomb ass shit, I could play with my shit [Nas Escobar] Rap niggas, capitalise, stock figures Cognac is that liquor Got me all numbed out, now I'm in the street with the guns out Niggas better take me home, 'fore I dumbs out Might fuck around, lay somethin down Wit mad niggas out here to see that shit We that click, runnin shit up in New Yick All the way down to Hicktown, layin it down [Foxy Brown] Fox be the classiest, the sassiest The clubs, all thugs grab my wrists, offer me moselle Crist More of the shit to hold you with Keep hatin I'ma fold your bitch Should've known to control that chick, hoes mad cos I roll the 6 Doe full of ices, black Isis Sidewalk, my niggas stay fuckin your girl The rest be, hoes in stretch jeans with red seams Take it from me, let a nigga dream Make em lick that, get the cat for his cream Chorus (x2) [Foxy Brown] It's about time I reverse that Bitches learn game, rehearse that It ain't no love, ma remember that Ya hoes wanna slap while I got him on his back Tryin to hurt that [Nas Escobar] Think you're grown, half the niggas sittin at home Watchin the kids, while you're gettin it on I'm too smart for that, caught you creepin Receipts in your Prada bag, sweets every weekend Spendin my doe, I coulda spent that on hydro You ain't slick enough, think I don't know [Foxy Brown] Dumb ass, think I slept on your bum ass Knew the whole stee bout a chip like me Did it on G-P, let you eat me Couldn't freak me, I'm better off with tv [Nas] That Firm shit, that Firm shit Interlude: Can't get enough, oooooh oooooh, oooooh oooohooooh [Nas] That Firm shit, that Firm shit Chorus (x3) Interlude to fade
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