Music Video

Foxy Brown - Ill Na Na ft. Method Man (Lyrics)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Foxy Brown
Foxy Brown
Vocals
Method Man
Method Man
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Charly "Shuga Bear" Charles
Charly "Shuga Bear" Charles
Songwriter
Milan Williams
Milan Williams
Composer
Lionel Richie
Lionel Richie
Composer
Shawn Carter
Shawn Carter
Songwriter
Walter Orange
Walter Orange
Composer
Thomas McClary
Thomas McClary
Composer
William King Jr.
William King Jr.
Composer
Clifford Smith
Clifford Smith
Songwriter
Ronald LaPread
Ronald LaPread
Composer
William Atwell King
William Atwell King
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Charly "Shuga Bear" Charles
Charly "Shuga Bear" Charles
Producer
Rich Travali
Rich Travali
Mixing Engineer
Poke & Tone
Poke & Tone
Mixing Engineer
Tom Coyne
Tom Coyne
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

One time Huh, all up in ya like a bone when I Johnny Blaze, the Iron Lung Foxy Brown, the Ill Na Na (yeah, c'mon, yeah, c'mon) Destination (c'mon, c'mon) plat' Yo Na Na so Ill, first week out Shipped a half a mil', niggas freaked out She's all about sex, pardon, check your facts And the track record, I'm all about plaques Shakin' my ass half naked, lovin' this life Waitin' for Kim album to drop, knowin' it's tight Standin' center stage, closin' the show holdin' a gat Since you opened up, I know you're hopin' it's wack Niggas screamin' my name on record, straight wildin' Maybe I'll answer back when you reach a hundred thousand This is ladies' night, and the Mercedes tight When I'm coming home? Maybe tonight Leave my food by the microwave, kiss the baby goodnight It's my time to shine, it's playtime tonight I'ma try to stand my ground, know when I fall I left your ass home alone, hopin' I call Who got the illest pussy on the planet? Sugar walls comin' down, niggas can't stand it, the Ill Na Na True Absolut Vodka, straight shots For the has-beens and have-nots, dolla dolla Real and it don't stop, we movin' up First the mansion, then the yacht, sound proper Straight cash get got, bloodhounds Tryin' to hunt down the Brown Fox, the Ill Na Na No more sexin' me all night, thinkin' it's alright While I'm lookin' over your shoulder, watchin' the hall light You hate when it's a ball, right? Ladies, this ain't handball Nigga hit these walls right before I call Mike In the morning when it's all bright, eggs over easy Hope you have my shit tight when I open my eyes While I'm eatin', gettin' dressed up, this ain't yo' pad I left some money on the dresser, find you a cab No more, sharin' our pain, sharin' our maid It's time to outslick niggas, ladies sharin' our game Put it in high gear, flip the eyewear Nas ruled the world but now it's my year And from here on, I solemnly swear To hold my own like Pee Wee in a movie theater (uh-huh) Yeah, I don't need a man's wealth But I can do bad (bad) by my damn self (self) And uhh Who got the illest pussy on the planet? Sugar walls comin' down, niggas can't stand it, the Ill Na Na True Absolut Vodka, straight shots For the has-beens and have-nots, dolla dolla Real and it don't stop, we movin' up First the mansion, then the yacht, sound proper Straight cash get got, bloodhounds Tryin' to hunt down the Brown Fox, the Ill Na Na Uh, vodka Not, not Dollar, stop C'mon, c'mon, yah It's the Ill Na Na No more waitin' to exhale, we takin' deep breaths Ladies take this all from Fox, repeat this Love thyself with no one above thee 'Cause ain't nobody gon' love me like me If he don't do the right thing like Spike Lee Bye bye wifey Make him lose his Nike's (uh uh), hit the road Mami told me, in order to find a prince You gotta kiss some toads Who got the illest pussy on the planet? Sugar walls comin' down, niggas can't stand it, the Ill Na Na True Absolut Vodka, straight shots For the has-beens and have-nots, dolla dolla Real and it don't stop, we movin' up First the mansion, then the yacht, sound proper Straight cash get got, bloodhounds Tryin' to hunt down the Brown Fox, the Ill Na Na
Writer(s): Clifford Smith, Shawn C. Carter, Inga D. Marchand, Lionel B. Jr. Richie, Walter Lee Orange, Milan B. Williams, Thomas Mcclary, Ronald Lapread, William King Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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