The Beehive Lyrics - Lil' Kim

*scratched* 

Fuckin', fuckin' 

Fuckin', fuckin' 

Fuckin', fuckin' 

Fuckin' with the Teflon bitch from the Stuy 

[Verse" 1 Lil' Kim] 

Ms. White, that bitch with a thousand looks 

Come through with a thousand crooks 

I just know what it takes to get this money like Blow 

Catch a body, get a face lift, disappear like Pablo 

Ya'll niggas think I won't jump in the heap 

Well let's dance, you lames are finished 

I serve all ya'll cowards like a game of tennis 

Act like you want some of this and I'll give you the business 

You see the yellow and black, you know what it's about 

Wrinkled assed niggas gets ironed, to straighten you out 

I got thugs in the east, thugs in the south 

That'll stick with the aisly and whip piss in your mouth 

I kept 'em on a leash and now it's time to let 'em out 

Better pray to Jehovah, the game is over 

Don't ever, ever, ever, ever underestimate 

Lil' Kim the postergirl at 718 

Ride outta town with my nigga, holdin' his weight 

After it's cooked, chopped in eights the size of plates 

You bitches ain't been through shit, you just minors 

What you know about stuffin' half a bricks in your vagina 

It's the dick licker, it's the baby sipper 

Ain't a bitch alive can make a nigga cum quicker 

Baby girl's pussy get wetter than a shower cap 

Got my mans back like a Jansport napsack 

And Queen Bee gon' bring you nothin' but heat 

Homicide is lookin' for me for killin' these beats 

You in the wrong department, this the upperclass section 

You hoes is startin' to irritate me like a yeast infection 

Good heavens, somebody get the Monostat 7 

And hit me why don'tcha, hit me why don'tcha 

The boss lady, I hold it down for my badies 

Rappers better run and hide 'cause here comes the Beehive 

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[Verse 2: Reeks] 

It's your boy, Money Cash, I get love in the streets 

Breathin' dro colored Benz's with dutch colored seats 

Lay in the crib on Tuesdays, duckin' the sweep 

Nigga jump off, then get pumped off your feet 

I'm like Rostein, low key and brilliant with numbers 

I'm tryna blow sticky in Brazil with the Hummer 

If you spittin' and I'm grippin' this tech 

Then that's 32 shots, our throwback's like Mitchell and Ness 

Man, I'm a project nigga, still piss on the steps 

And keep the brim on my fitted a little twist to the left 

I play the block, fifth in my sweats, reppin' my set 

It's Rossie from the pharmacy, get it correct 

Photos 

[Chorus: Lil' Kim] 

{*scratched*} 

The Beehive 

Fuckin', fuckin' 

Fuckin' with the Teflon bitch from the Stuy 

Fuckin' with the Tef-Teflon bitch 

Beehive 

Fuckin' with the Teflon bitch from the Stuy 

Now putcha hands around your mouth and holler out 

The Beehive 

[Verse 3: Bunky S.A.] 

Yo, it's Bunky S to the A, and my guns ain't warm 

Beatin' niggas close to death with my house slippers on 

You ain't a thug cocksucka, you a coward to front 

Fuck your project, your building got flowers in front 

Every chick I roll with, OZ in the cunt 

I was OT in Mass, pushin' flower for months 

Sprinklin' gun powder, oughta put a haze on my blunt 

I spit a hundred and fifty bars when I'm blazin' 'em out 

'Cause I can do that with razor blades stuck in my mouth 

Forget a hotel, I'm fuckin' shorty right on the couch 

Any rap shit I ever barked on, to hot to handle 

And my rims bigger than lower Manhattan manholes 

Listen up for 2003 tan rover 

Stash box hold guns like Afgan soldiers 

Wanna murda 16, well we the niggas you call 

Queen Bee and Gotti Kids, muthafuck all ya'll 

[Chorus] 

[Verse 4: Vee] 

Uh, yo Vee The Kid, that's the name I earned in the streets 

'Cause my bars so hot, it be burnin' the beats 

Melt my pen, I have slugs meltin' your chin 

When I throw you over the bridge, they helpin' you swim 

And you better wear a metal hat when you rappin' on stage 

Or have my bullets like e-mail, packin' your waves 

Or snatch your face off like I'm Nicolas Cage 

And it could be five of ya'll, puttin' eight in your grave 

'Cause niggas think they hard, but they softer than bread 

When them shells hit your throat, you be coughin' up lead 

The next step is to off you, dead 

I'ma cut your fuckin' head off and have Kim auction your head (Beehive) 

See the kid don't rap for love, I rap for cheques 

Even if I know you, I demand respect 

And if I put you in the body bag, your man is next 

The Advakid and Queen Bee gon' leave the game in a mess (Beehive) 

[Chorus] 

[Verse 5: Goldie] 

It's young Goldie, the Advakid, put you to rest 

I ride around with two 38's tucked in my sweats 

A pump in trunk and a nine under the seat 

Enough ammo to blow the earth from under your feet (Beehive) 

And we got cake for killas like Hyde and Jeckyl 

Snippers put red dots on your face like freckles 

Don't make me have to reach for the lead 

You'll think the bullets was rain drops how they all hit your head 

I'm that slim kid that they say is probably hot 

She only with me 'cause of what she think I probably got 

Am I gon' be with her for long, probably not 

Unless you're cute and suck a dick like a lollipop 

Niggas talk about guns and they just bust caps 

Niggas talk aboit ki's whey they just flip packs 

When it come to my money, suggest you gimmie that 

'Cause you know bullets fly in pairs like Petey Pab 

(Beehive) 

[Chorus] 

Now putcha hands around your mouth and holler out 

The Beehive