730 (Explicit) 歌词
| 歌曲 | 730 (Explicit) |
| 歌手 | Foxy Brown |
| 专辑 | Broken Silence (Explicit Version) |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : DeYoung, Marchand, Sandlofer | |
| 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 | |
| Yo they say i'm 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she'll wild out | |
| But can y'all feel my pain? | |
| I can't let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i'm hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| They say i'm 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she'll wild out | |
| But can y'all feel my pain? | |
| I can't let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i'm hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| Yo my life is full of problems | |
| Sometimes it's hard to dodge 'em | |
| So much you couldn't fathom | |
| I wish i didn't have them | |
| They say i'm 7-30, pretty but i rap too dirty | |
| The law is criticizing me and probably never heard me | |
| So what i crashed my range | |
| My last name ain't changed | |
| This time it's different though | |
| I'm not exploiting names | |
| Yeah i write my shit | |
| It's not a ****ing game | |
| So what he wrote some songs | |
| I blew him up the same | |
| I'm never ducking dames | |
| Y'all know just where to find me | |
| I would've killed her but it just wouldn't be fair to mommie | |
| Imagine me doing time, foxy behind bars | |
| Not me the crime star | |
| Y'all bitches ain't worth it | |
| Although my life ain't perfect, i'll never change a thing | |
| Y'all want success but y'all don't know about the pain it bring | |
| It's supposed to make you happy and keep your paper long | |
| This beat is kind of ill | |
| How could you hate this song? | |
| Yo they say i'm 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she'll wild out | |
| But can y'all feel my pain? | |
| I can't let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i'm hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| They say i'm 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she'll wild out | |
| But can y'all feel my pain? | |
| I can't let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i'm hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| Man some hoes is always yackin' | |
| Like i can't make it happen | |
| Like they don't know my cash | |
| Like they don't know my past | |
| Especially pop star bitches with the soft image | |
| So what i ain't with him | |
| Bitch! he's off limits | |
| Be where i always be | |
| See who i choose to see | |
| Although we're not together, his heart belong to me | |
| See at times i think y'all bitches be confusing me | |
| Like i'm somethin' sweet, shorty i'm still street | |
| You're not on my level, and i won't stoop | |
| And i'm the one that got you, kicked out your own group | |
| Chicks be always thinkin' that i'mma let it ride | |
| I might not kill you but i'll hurt you till your dead inside | |
| Third album and you still wanna test brown | |
| I'm so hood bitches know how boogie get down | |
| It could be real drama | |
| It's still the ill na na | |
| There ain't a bitch wilda | |
| Any beef? holla! | |
| They say i'm 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she'll wild out | |
| But can y'all feel my pain? | |
| I can't let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i'm hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| They say i'm 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she'll wild out | |
| But can y'all feel my pain? | |
| I can't let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i'm hurtin' so bad inside? |
| zuo ci : DeYoung, Marchand, Sandlofer | |
| 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 biz 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 | |
| Yo they say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| They say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| Yo my life is full of problems | |
| Sometimes it' s hard to dodge ' em | |
| So much you couldn' t fathom | |
| I wish i didn' t have them | |
| They say i' m 730, pretty but i rap too dirty | |
| The law is criticizing me and probably never heard me | |
| So what i crashed my range | |
| My last name ain' t changed | |
| This time it' s different though | |
| I' m not exploiting names | |
| Yeah i write my shit | |
| It' s not a ing game | |
| So what he wrote some songs | |
| I blew him up the same | |
| I' m never ducking dames | |
| Y' all know just where to find me | |
| I would' ve killed her but it just wouldn' t be fair to mommie | |
| Imagine me doing time, foxy behind bars | |
| Not me the crime star | |
| Y' all bitches ain' t worth it | |
| Although my life ain' t perfect, i' ll never change a thing | |
| Y' all want success but y' all don' t know about the pain it bring | |
| It' s supposed to make you happy and keep your paper long | |
| This beat is kind of ill | |
| How could you hate this song? | |
| Yo they say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| They say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| Man some hoes is always yackin' | |
| Like i can' t make it happen | |
| Like they don' t know my cash | |
| Like they don' t know my past | |
| Especially pop star bitches with the soft image | |
| So what i ain' t with him | |
| Bitch! he' s off limits | |
| Be where i always be | |
| See who i choose to see | |
| Although we' re not together, his heart belong to me | |
| See at times i think y' all bitches be confusing me | |
| Like i' m somethin' sweet, shorty i' m still street | |
| You' re not on my level, and i won' t stoop | |
| And i' m the one that got you, kicked out your own group | |
| Chicks be always thinkin' that i' mma let it ride | |
| I might not kill you but i' ll hurt you till your dead inside | |
| Third album and you still wanna test brown | |
| I' m so hood bitches know how boogie get down | |
| It could be real drama | |
| It' s still the ill na na | |
| There ain' t a bitch wilda | |
| Any beef? holla! | |
| They say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| They say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? |
| zuò cí : DeYoung, Marchand, Sandlofer | |
| 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 biz 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 | |
| Yo they say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| They say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| Yo my life is full of problems | |
| Sometimes it' s hard to dodge ' em | |
| So much you couldn' t fathom | |
| I wish i didn' t have them | |
| They say i' m 730, pretty but i rap too dirty | |
| The law is criticizing me and probably never heard me | |
| So what i crashed my range | |
| My last name ain' t changed | |
| This time it' s different though | |
| I' m not exploiting names | |
| Yeah i write my shit | |
| It' s not a ing game | |
| So what he wrote some songs | |
| I blew him up the same | |
| I' m never ducking dames | |
| Y' all know just where to find me | |
| I would' ve killed her but it just wouldn' t be fair to mommie | |
| Imagine me doing time, foxy behind bars | |
| Not me the crime star | |
| Y' all bitches ain' t worth it | |
| Although my life ain' t perfect, i' ll never change a thing | |
| Y' all want success but y' all don' t know about the pain it bring | |
| It' s supposed to make you happy and keep your paper long | |
| This beat is kind of ill | |
| How could you hate this song? | |
| Yo they say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| They say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| Man some hoes is always yackin' | |
| Like i can' t make it happen | |
| Like they don' t know my cash | |
| Like they don' t know my past | |
| Especially pop star bitches with the soft image | |
| So what i ain' t with him | |
| Bitch! he' s off limits | |
| Be where i always be | |
| See who i choose to see | |
| Although we' re not together, his heart belong to me | |
| See at times i think y' all bitches be confusing me | |
| Like i' m somethin' sweet, shorty i' m still street | |
| You' re not on my level, and i won' t stoop | |
| And i' m the one that got you, kicked out your own group | |
| Chicks be always thinkin' that i' mma let it ride | |
| I might not kill you but i' ll hurt you till your dead inside | |
| Third album and you still wanna test brown | |
| I' m so hood bitches know how boogie get down | |
| It could be real drama | |
| It' s still the ill na na | |
| There ain' t a bitch wilda | |
| Any beef? holla! | |
| They say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? | |
| They say i' m 730, say i spaz out | |
| Fb is ill, she' ll wild out | |
| But can y' all feel my pain? | |
| I can' t let it slide | |
| How could i smile when i' m hurtin' so bad inside? |
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