We Makin' It

[Intro] Yo, turn me up [Verse 1: Foxy Brown] What ya'll know bout bangin' out? Till there's nothin' left stash box mag 4s all up in the dashboards Look, ya'll think we get this cash for? We gon' front till we die Throw that money in the sky homie I rock them Louis' ya'll know already But it's necessary I styles in Burberry Young Fox I run hip-hop Niggas know them hits won't stop bet them clips will pop Bet I be in that big body Rover Frontin' hard in the squad L-V on the loafers And I'm an ill bitch I'm styled like I'm 'posed to Niggas in the bin gettin' right off my posters In the pearl white hatch back, black Got my swagger back and I don't know how to act nigga My groove is on my team is strong Hey yo Gav please bring them motherfuckin' horns in [Hook: Young Gavin] This is what we came to do Gettin' money playboy we ain't playin' wit' you Who the one that got the streets on lock Somebody better call the cops What we doin' huh? We makin' it Fever hit Ya'll know it's Fox She keeps it hot [Verse 2: Foxy] And I bring it to bitches for real Special delivery Five years strong and they still tryin' to get rid of me But I'm still here niggas I do this for Gav to keep them young boys runnin' through the ave Have the team lookin' good I be's in the hood Dubs on the wheels and B's on the hood Pop 50 bottles Halo to Hollywood I'm so gutter Acki sweat suit with the hood Might flip it on these bitches and throw on the Plein Sud Wit a real good shoot lookin' real fucking good Start her own label, she'll never be able Now I styles on niggas and I turn the tables Now meetings with Kev and Lyor at the round table In a three-quarter butter brown Sable Ya'll niggas hustlin' deals and I'm still on the grind Tryin' to appeal still beatin' Russell for mils [Hook: Young Gavin] This is what we came to do Gettin' money playboy we ain't playin' wit' you Who the one that got the streets on lock Somebody better call the cops What we doin' huh? We makin' it Fever hit Ya'll know it's Fox She keeps it hot [Verse 3: Foxy] I rate the weak movin' a brick in half a week And it's hard to eat in these Brooklyn streets The truth is you bitches only live in a booth I move big sixty deuce that's Prada goose nigga Throw our money out our prowler roof I'm about to tightin' the noose they talkin' loose Man, me and Gav in them Lacs, Tyson's bout to get them belts back Brooklyn's back nigga