"You Ain't Seen Nothin'" as written by and Jermaine/rolison Dupri....
[JD talking] (Foxy Brown.)
(Uh.) Did y'all expect us?
(No, no.) B****es, can y'all get naked?
(That's right!)

[JD]
Uh, y'all know me, and the dough I see.
Fa, so, la, ti, it's chi chi.
Ladies want to hold me; get to know me.
Talks to each it; want to sleep with it.
Simplisticness keeps me hot while y'all stress.
Tryin' to see the top stop; everything drop so.
Everything drop platinum or gold, and the whole world know.
I'm that playboy, J, doin' it my way like Usher,
And I don't feel bad when I crush ya.
Like blush ya, style big ball, I'm a hit y'all.
With s*** that's gon' make n****s forget y'all.
You feel me, dog? I'm a C-H-I, multi,
And I live and die for the whole pie.
You can call it what you want; I'm a motherf***in vet.

[Hook x 2]
(And ain't none a y'all seen nothin' yet!)
It's that platinum s***, that's all we get,
So let it be known that it's all for real.
{And all we about is them dollar, dollar, bills!}

[Foxy Brown]
You know that Na Na got the heater s***.
That, uh, everybody want to eat her s***.
N****s talkin' about they six; want to see this s***.
Knowin' half a y'all broads want to be this b****.
From N-Y to the west side, motherf***ers keep me in the best ride.
Thirty-eight chest size; ain't f***in 'less I come off.
With like thirty G's, easy, once the n**** dead off.
S***, never trust s***; I gives a f***.
I'm a ring finger rock chick; straight lock b****,
And everything I rocks with
Either pops s***, or f*** a n**** topless; y'all hos finky.
Got to bank this to even see me half naked.
Like the black Susan Lucci, stiletto pumps, Gucci.
Ridiculous ice; tag me, million dollar price.
Stay frontin'; y'all cats ain't seen nothin'.

[Hook x 2]

[Mack 10] (Foxy Brown)
I push a six feet drop; red and pallamino.
And keep the semi glock wherever me go.
I stay ruger ready, or either Smith & Wesson,
And burn hearts, like they indigested it if I'm tested.
So where you want to meet at, playa; over here?
I'll be the one with all the ice on, in the surplus gear.
Plus I'll tell you what's real, so, uh, baby, listen.
Put your shades on when you peep the Lex 'cause the baugettes glisten.
(I want the whole three dozen
And with that drama, biz.)
Well it all depends on how ill your na na is;
Can you go O-T with a few and a gun?
But can you cook it with the whoop and make two outta one?
Now you can be up in the west and do it my way,
Or hit the homie JD in Atlanta, GA.
Want to ball, well; let's bounce; get the heat and the scale.
Now Mack and Fox Boogie got dope to sell.

[Hook x 2]

[Mack 10]
The Hoo Banger, Mack 10.
The Ill Na Na, Foxy Brown.
And the homie JD, the don chi chi.
We got the Recip; break it down.


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"You Ain't Seen Nothin'" as written by Edward Irons Dedrick D'mon Rolison

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC

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You Ain't Seen Nothin' song meanings
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