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The Beehive
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Lil' Kim
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1
Lil' Kim
2
Miscellaneous
3
The Beehive
4
*scratched*
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Fuckin', fuckin'
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Fuckin', fuckin'
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Fuckin', fuckin'
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Fuckin' with the Teflon bitch from the Stuy
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[Verse" 1 Lil' Kim]
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Ms. White, that bitch with a thousand looks
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Come through with a thousand crooks
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I just know what it takes to get this money like Blow
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Catch a body, get a face lift, disappear like Pablo
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Ya'll niggas think I won't jump in the heap
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Well let's dance, you lames are finished
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I serve all ya'll cowards like a game of tennis
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Act like you want some of this and I'll give you the business
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You see the yellow and black, you know what it's about
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Wrinkled assed niggas gets ironed, to straighten you out
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I got thugs in the east, thugs in the south
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That'll stick with the aisly and whip piss in your mouth
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I kept 'em on a leash and now it's time to let 'em out
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Better pray to Jehovah, the game is over
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Don't ever, ever, ever, ever underestimate
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Lil' Kim the postergirl at 718
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Ride outta town with my nigga, holdin' his weight
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After it's cooked, chopped in eights the size of plates
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You bitches ain't been through shit, you just minors
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What you know about stuffin' half a bricks in your vagina
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It's the dick licker, it's the baby sipper
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Ain't a bitch alive can make a nigga cum quicker
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Baby girl's pussy get wetter than a shower cap
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Got my mans back like a Jansport napsack
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And Queen Bee gon' bring you nothin' but heat
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Homicide is lookin' for me for killin' these beats
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You in the wrong department, this the upperclass section
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You hoes is startin' to irritate me like a yeast infection
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Good heavens, somebody get the Monostat 7
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And hit me why don'tcha, hit me why don'tcha
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The boss lady, I hold it down for my badies
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Rappers better run and hide 'cause here comes the Beehive
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[Verse 2: Reeks]
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It's your boy, Money Cash, I get love in the streets
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Breathin' dro colored Benz's with dutch colored seats
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Lay in the crib on Tuesdays, duckin' the sweep
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Nigga jump off, then get pumped off your feet
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I'm like Rostein, low key and brilliant with numbers
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I'm tryna blow sticky in Brazil with the Hummer
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If you spittin' and I'm grippin' this tech
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Then that's 32 shots, our throwback's like Mitchell and Ness
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Man, I'm a project nigga, still piss on the steps
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And keep the brim on my fitted a little twist to the left
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I play the block, fifth in my sweats, reppin' my set
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It's Rossie from the pharmacy, get it correct
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[Chorus: Lil' Kim]
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{*scratched*}
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The Beehive
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Fuckin', fuckin'
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Fuckin' with the Teflon bitch from the Stuy
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Fuckin' with the Tef-Teflon bitch
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Beehive
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Fuckin' with the Teflon bitch from the Stuy
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Now putcha hands around your mouth and holler out
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The Beehive
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[Verse 3: Bunky S.A.]
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Yo, it's Bunky S to the A, and my guns ain't warm
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Beatin' niggas close to death with my house slippers on
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You ain't a thug cocksucka, you a coward to front
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Fuck your project, your building got flowers in front
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Every chick I roll with, OZ in the cunt
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I was OT in Mass, pushin' flower for months
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Sprinklin' gun powder, oughta put a haze on my blunt
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I spit a hundred and fifty bars when I'm blazin' 'em out
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'Cause I can do that with razor blades stuck in my mouth
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Forget a hotel, I'm fuckin' shorty right on the couch
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Any rap shit I ever barked on, to hot to handle
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And my rims bigger than lower Manhattan manholes
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Listen up for 2003 tan rover
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Stash box hold guns like Afgan soldiers
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Wanna murda 16, well we the niggas you call
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Queen Bee and Gotti Kids, muthafuck all ya'll
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 4: Vee]
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Uh, yo Vee The Kid, that's the name I earned in the streets
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'Cause my bars so hot, it be burnin' the beats
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Melt my pen, I have slugs meltin' your chin
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When I throw you over the bridge, they helpin' you swim
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And you better wear a metal hat when you rappin' on stage
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Or have my bullets like e-mail, packin' your waves
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Or snatch your face off like I'm Nicolas Cage
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And it could be five of ya'll, puttin' eight in your grave
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'Cause niggas think they hard, but they softer than bread
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When them shells hit your throat, you be coughin' up lead
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The next step is to off you, dead
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I'ma cut your fuckin' head off and have Kim auction your head (Beehive)
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See the kid don't rap for love, I rap for cheques
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Even if I know you, I demand respect
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And if I put you in the body bag, your man is next
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The Advakid and Queen Bee gon' leave the game in a mess (Beehive)
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 5: Goldie]
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It's young Goldie, the Advakid, put you to rest
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I ride around with two 38's tucked in my sweats
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A pump in trunk and a nine under the seat
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Enough ammo to blow the earth from under your feet (Beehive)
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And we got cake for killas like Hyde and Jeckyl
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Snippers put red dots on your face like freckles
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Don't make me have to reach for the lead
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You'll think the bullets was rain drops how they all hit your head
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I'm that slim kid that they say is probably hot
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She only with me 'cause of what she think I probably got
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Am I gon' be with her for long, probably not
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Unless you're cute and suck a dick like a lollipop
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Niggas talk about guns and they just bust caps
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Niggas talk aboit ki's whey they just flip packs
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When it come to my money, suggest you gimmie that
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'Cause you know bullets fly in pairs like Petey Pab
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(Beehive)
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[Chorus]
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Now putcha hands around your mouth and holler out
121
The Beehive
Here Is The Beehive | Count To Five | Su...
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