[Jay-Z]. That's right papa that's right. How we do yeah Ill Na Na. Uh huh uh come on.... [Foxy]. What up pop brace yourself as I ride on top. Close your eyes as you ride right out your socks. Double lose his mind as he grind in the tunnel. Wanna gimme the cash he made off his last bundle. Nasty-girl don't pass me the world. I push to be not the backseat girl. Don't deep throat the C-note she float. Murder she wrote and keeps the heat close. Firm nigga we 'posed to be the illest on three coasts. Familia bigga than Icos. Y'all Danny Devitoes small niggaz. All I see is the penny heaters that's all niggaz. No shark in this year raise it bigga. Fifteen percent make the whole world sit up. and take notice Na Na take over. Y'all take quotas to hit papa. Chorus: Jay-Z. Straight out the gate y'all we drop hits. Now tell me how nasty can you get. All the way from the hood to your neck of the woods. It's ripped one thing for sure -- I'll be good. (repeat 2x). Foxy: I'm 2 Live Nasty As I Wanna Be. Jay-Z: Don't shake your sassy ass in front of me. 'fore I take you there and tear your back out. Foxy: That shit ain't happened since The Mack was out. [Foxy]. Uhh rollin for Lana dripped in Gabbana. Nineties style you find a style. Right away it's the fit wanna taste the shit. Put me on a bass and throw your face in it fucker. Na Na y'all can't touch her. My sex drive all night like a trucker. let alone the skills I posess. And y'all gon' see by these mil's I posess. Never settle for less I'm in excess. Not inexpensive Dvs. To the two that's just the way I'm built. Nasty -- what classy still. Chorus. [Jay-Z]. Well you can hoe what I got roll with the rock. The fella Capo in the candy apple drop. Will tears fall to your ears if I don't stop. Can ya throw it like a quarterback third in the lot?. [Foxy]. Dig me I get you locked like Biggie wit Irv in the spot. Word middie the cop 'n biddie. Uhh I'm the bomdigi punana. Sexy brown thing uh Madon' y'all. Make em turn over from the full-court pressure. to undress ya and shit all over your asses. I ain't playin knockin out at the Williams. I'm sayin what's the sense in delayin. I'm tryin to run G from the P to the A.M.. I saw your little thing now I'm swayin Ok'in. (ahh shit... uh uh). Chorus