[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