Total - No One Else (Puff Daddy Remix) lyrics

rate me

(feat. Da Brat, Foxy Brown, Lil' Kim)

[Foxy Brown]

Brown nigga, uh, chromed out six and shit

Bubblin' layin' up with them Colombians

Oh fuck no, I get this doe, Fox Brown Mama

Jig suits from Gabbanna

True, balla nigga who you callin'

Papa we be flashin', sex lastin', all night long, it's strong

The mattress, Ill na na, like Benihana steaks

The boogie like a fresh pair of snakes

Italian, Fox Brown the don, Gucci on

Stylin, sip Crystal on the Cayman Islands

Uh, got gay niggas ready to switch, like Ravano

Turn that mob nigga to snitch, true player to don

From Veneddinni, five carats on the arm, jew-els be the bomb

The four hotties, Total and Foxy, sip us some martinis

Bad girl of the year 96, Pam Grier, uh!

[Chorus:]

I don't need, no one but you, ooh ooh ooh

I don't need no one

I don't need, no one but you, yooouuuu, oh oh oh oh oh

[Lil' Kim]

Many people tell me my style is terriffic

Stupendous, tremendous, I bend just a little bit more

Than the average whore, cause I'm focused

I rock Versace lamps and saucers

You didn't know I like crack-adile boots and gator suits

The biggest willies, got to fill me, huh

I like the hot wheels, you got a fast car

Like Tracy Chapman you can cruise with this rap star

The mink sporter, the heroin importer, I be that rich bitch

Stack banks by the chips, check it

I spot hits like Spud Mackenzie, I'm Leona Hemsley

Taxes is gettin' axes

It's essential for the presidential, certified testicals

Get sprayed forty decibles, the king and I

All you need in this world, I'm a bad girl

The high pitch Queen Bitch

[Chorus]

[Da Brat]

Once again I'm all you need with the caramel skin

Fat lucious lickable lips in a jet black bitch

Stackin' ends fulfillin' dreams makin' life complete

Come take a journey with this funkdefied bitch that can't be beat

Once, twice, second time around for me

Three times more than the lady you'd imagined it be

I been, re-enstated, platinum plated and niggas hated

Relay it that I'm the shit, twelve lookes and a pit

Get hot like a chili pepper, flee for me

You got the blunt give it away to the B-R uh A-T

And check my M3, think I know everything will P-I-she

And you can't keep up with this heffer from the west side streets

I'm talkin mad money, acting funny with all the phonies

keepin it real with homies who been real with me

It would defeat the purpose for me not to flash my rocks

Cash, count all his cheques, invest stocks and bonds

Sippin on Don