Foxy Brown:
  
  Brown nigga, uh, cromed out six and shit
  Bubblin' layin' up with them Colombians
  Oh fuck no, I get this doe, Foxy Brown Mama
  Jig suits from Gabbanna
  True, all a nigga who you callin'
  Bye bye we be flashin', sex lastin' all night long, it's strong
  The mattress, ill na na, like Benny Honna stakes
  The boogie like a fresh pair of snakes
  A talion, Fox Brown the don, loochie y'all
  Stallin, sip crystalle 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, two L's be the bomb
  The four hotties, Total and Foxy, sip us some martinis
  Bad girl of the year 96 we in gear
  
  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 socers
  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 freak 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
  Hot like a chilli 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, keepin it real
  to all the homies who been real to me
  It would defeat the purpose for me not to flash my rocks
  Cash, I got all his checks and stocks and bonds
  Sippin on don