* (Foxy) uh, uh huh, huh y'all cats ain't ready for the firm

 uh, dats right, uh, uh huh, brooklyn shit

[Foxy Brown]
All y'all hoes wanna stop my chips
Stare a bitch down when I rock my whips(UH!)
Knowin that you hate me on the low, cock glock by dicks
Stick me for the ice on my wrists
Keeps the chorme fifth, make you so sick
Y'all hoes give me honostly no choice but to shit
'Ficially Firm, no extra shit, no suprises
No disguses, no Foxes, lil Nases
Stictly Fan Fam, AZ, Mega, Na Na, Nas Esco for eva
When y'all hoes is in the range ain't no tame to y'all
I'm still a young bitch and i'm ashamed of y'all
Mad cuz they know no clique claimed to y'all
And y'all hoes is like 
Mid-day Anonymous lyrics

what will you do to turn this around
so many behind you so many before you
ticket in one hand gun in the other
what will you do which hand will you use?

came on the run and you will leave running
there's always someone to keep you from thinking
loving her desperately knowing you're leaving
what will you do now with no o
fuck me, the same to y'all (thats right)
And I really got no time to play no games with y'all
And if I feel like shittin on y'all, I'm namin y'all (UH!)
If I'm soundin kinda harsh, please ignore me
Not to stop ya rhyme flow, but ya'll makes takes shorty
The nerve of y'all hoes tryna gail me
And Uhhhh, ya broke bitch, what the fuck ya tryna stale me
(Nas) where ya 4X(singing) where ya at nigga?

[Nas]
Lost to the bosses
Rhymes in my mind like these pearls and oysters
Jew-els you deal because we bail in porches
Of course its the firm, this court is ajourned
My thoughts is to burned y'all little nases
Middle guises mouthin off I wanna speak to y'all leaders, you bump and smoke cheeba
I shoot em in my two 
Thangs Movin' Slow lyrics


Yeah, Attic Crew, Attic Crew and Cooley C my nigga
Yeah, yeah, my nigga, its Attic Crew and Cooley C my nigga
Yeah, Youngbloodz, Youngbloodz and Cooley C my nigga
Um, Mark Twayne 

Now it's time to let y'all nigga know about me
Oh I can get mo money, mo money, don't come to me
And everything I say that be on the blowseat-a
Yo you's the worst clown
The Jamie Fox with his first down, first rounds
If ya made it when it takes to stay paid
I'm in the trade trade in the double-o kuzzle
Guzzelin don twist on my dro my drugs yo
Glistenin um... rollie platinum like my records
My wallet be mad brolick
From Queen Bride Projects, the hottest

Still real from palm sockets
Hoes lovin the dick, I'll smuggle my wrist
To remind me of the days when it was nothing like this
I used to bust a nut on my fist, imaginin it was some lips, sucking my dick
Now I'm handcuffin my chicks, and yours too
Layin back gettin the all woo, In the back of the four-two-zero
Y'all better respect black DeNiro
Have ya crew graph a miro, of ya face with a 
What Deaner Was Talkin' About lyrics

The wash is out, It's hanging up
And all I have is nothing
Nothing to do, nothing to say
I think I must be dreaming
The sun comes up and I'm all washed out
Is this what Deaner was talkin' about
I don't think I will ever return again my friend
If I was king, I'd wear a ring
And never hurt my people
I'd stay alert, and dres
halo
On your building on your block where you stay low
End your career, niggas like remember him, yeah
Nigga fucked with Esco, the emperor
Thought I might have passed you cris
Yo a nigga passed you pissed
Made the wrong move, now the nigga ass is His
We the firm baby boys, y'all surpass to this
Keep the facts about real life and death situations
Mack with real ice, rings, his breath taken
See me floss with whores, jumpin ways and doors
The crew papa commisioned out and clue(?) zada(?)
Gatherin thoughts up in the 12 bed room casa
The cigars on the way to see the opera
Up in the balcony with the wineians binocular
Black and white tuxes, black hustlers
Fuck with us, firm buisness we'll discuss this