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    Foxy Brown
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    It's Hard Being Wifee

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    Song Info

    It's Hard Being Wifee
    Released


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      About "It's Hard Being Wifee"

      Lyrics for Foxy Brown - "It's Hard Being Wifee"

      Ughh
      Lately why'know how that sayin' goes
      "Be careful what you ask for in life
      'Cause you just might get it"
      Dependin' on what you ask for
      What you get you might now be able to get out it
      You heard? Ughh
      Niggas might take advantage if you let 'em (ughh)
      Play your cards right and if you fuck 'em in the same night
      Make sure that he don't snitch must be up to sumpin'
      Or might be lyin' on his dick, shit
      You know how niggas flip from gettin' pussy
      The head, 'til you spit yo bread and blew his dick
      Especially if he trip, shit
      Don't complain, bitch, do your thang
      And cop that range (ughh)
      When he hit you with that game
      You be like "A'ight, dude, whatever"
      And sleep on it, put like a week on it
      Get the Benz Jeep and creep on it
      Do you, like, yeah, faggot, screw you
      What the fuck am I to do now?
      Just lay back, like I'm that lame bitch, dude
      I'm that same bitch (uh huh)
      Don't you know? Never cross no ho
      Especially if she was Wifee and she know where that stands go
      Fuck you wildin' fo'?
      Who you stylin' fo'?
      And the truth is
      He fuckin' with the deuce kid (ughh)
      He don't know that I stick a move
      Get him wife for that Chyna White
      Nothing to lose, and I see right through him
      Yeah, we fuckin' tonight
      In the Duque, what he gawkin' and I'm truckin' tonight
      And if he sweet with the big ones,
      I'm lucky tonight
      And if he packin' like he yappin',
      I'm doin' him right
      Noreaga:
      Yo, yo, yo, yo
      Yo, when your man ain't fuckin' you right
      And the dope daddy singing in the hood in that Chyna White
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't right
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't tight
      Yo, when your man ain't fuckin' you right
      And the dope daddy singing in the hood in that Chyna White
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't right
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't tight, what

      Ughh, mostly, they'll play you closely (uh huh)
      Especially if you fuckin' 'em, anything could crushin' 'em
      Damn bitch, you lovin' 'em, impressed like that
      Bomb head, e'ry night, is the sex like that? (uh huh)
      Yeah, you ain't know, I was stress like that
      Over do, not this once, he don't handle like that
      Shoulda known not to fuck wit no light weight cats
      Rollin' doves in his stacks, I ain't fuckin' wit that
      I'm like 'Dude, where the fuck is yo big heads at?
      And you know how I get down, I don't pumps like that
      Plus he act funny, and he only fuck with track money
      And I'm, seven zero platinum-plat money
      It's not a game, nigga
      And like Sparkle,
      Be Careful What You Say, nigga
      The kind of cat that makes, wonder if he was sent to do this
      Put it down for you
      First chick he ever cried fo'
      Never had a chick that raps like this (uh huh)
      And impressed for no see 'cause streps like this (uh huh)
      And he makes a very it very clear (ughh)
      Baby mothers don't exist
      They just some Fox haters and condom breakers, ya heard?!

      What, when your man ain't fuckin' you right
      And the dope daddy singing in the hood in that Chyna White
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't right, what
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't tight
      Yo, when your man ain't fuckin' you right
      And the dope daddy singing in the hood in that Chyna White
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't right
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't tight, what, what

      Ughh, the situation is (uh huh)
      y'all chicks be fuckin' with that mistress shit
      Babe ro, if not for the dough, I splits with the quickness
      Pleads no fits, leaves no traces, ya heard?!
      What the fuck is this?
      Payback shit? (uh huh)
      Is it God striking me for some way back shit?
      I'm like 'Damn, was the bitch really foul like this?' (uh huh)
      And my lobe be just to think, I should slash my wrist
      And my seven, from me thinkin' I should total my six
      Or should straight spazz out, fuck his man and split (uh huh)
      Took the code straight to his safe and just empty his bricks
      On the low, but I know that he love when I flip (ughh)
      Ya betta know how to throw the smash game
      Shit, I got to bring bitch and his last name (ughh)
      Any bitch could do a nigga whole big
      Any bitch could lock up and have a kid
      Any chick could fuck a nigga despite
      But the nigga got to love you if he make you his wife
      Ughh, ya chicks is lonely, I'm ownin' that dick
      And on top of all this bullshit, I'm still this chick

      Yo, when your man ain't fuckin' you right
      And the dope daddy singing in the hood in that Chyna White
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't right, what
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't tight
      Yo, when your man ain't fuckin' you right
      And the dope daddy singing in the hood in that Chyna White
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't right
      We say 'Fuck 'em, fuck 'em'
      'Cause he just ain't tight, what

      SONGWRITERS:
      MARCHAND, INGA D. / KIRKLAND, R. / SANTIAGO, VICTOR
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