Somebody gimme a HO-oh! Check it, punks. Foxy be havin whatchoo call issues wif da tax man, so she go to da boogie down Marsha's Bin-yard to chillax. It be a island where da rich peeps go ev'ry Oggist. Even our prezadint Black Bobama be here now. Prez be doin dis and dat, playin putt-putt golf wif the First Ho and the two first bitches (I think they names be Shasta and Malaria or sumpin). They gots secrit serbice dawgs wif shades on and wires comin out they ears. Bobama's putt miss the clown mouth on the fif hole, so his posse pull they heat and pop a cap in da clown. Dat's hard, yo. Yessadee a sistah hit da farmer's market and some uppity old white ho say "excuse me, why you lickin' da frosting from all da cupcakes?" I say "bitch, git out my grill befo I cut yo motherf*ckin frote." She turn all red like crackas do when they fixin' to 'splode. "Who you fink you be?" she say. "I be Foxy Brown, mo-fo. Who you be?" Turn out she Marfa Stewart, da ex-conbick! "Yo Marfa, we bof be ex-conbicks!" So now me and Marfa, we tight. We buy all da cupcakes and fro dat shit at Shasta and Malaria when da Secrit Serbice dudes ain't lookin. Cause dat's how we roll, dawg.
On da self improobmint tip, Foxy finish readin that long-ass book call "Little-ass Crib on da Motherf*ckin Prarie." It be all 'bout some uppity cracka bitch name Half-Pint (Foxy need a half-pint of Colt 45, dats wassup). So Half-Pint and her posse go campin in a field and build a crib. Dat's it! No injuns tomahawkin they noggins, no 'splosions, nuffin. Jus' a bunch of gay-azz crackaz chillaxin and cookin up rabbitz. Foxy don't eat no bunny, foo. A bitch get her cell and call up some Dominos. Feel dat.
In today's espizode of da Foxy News Channel, a ho be spittin' rhymez wif a bitch called...dayum, yo. Foxy forgit a bitch's name! It be Affickan, like Oogabooga Jalalala or sumpin. She be whatchoo call a affa-leet from Afficka kickin' da cracka bitches azz. So now da Inna-national Associa-whatzit of Affa-leets tryin' to find out if she a sistah or a brovah. Respeck.
FOXY BROWN: Somebody gimme a HO-oh! This be Foxy B, and I'm reppazintin in da boogie down Afficka wif a affa-leet named Oogabooga Jalalala. Whoop!
CASTER SEMENYA: Miss Foxiness, my name is not Oogabooga.
FB: What yo name be then, foo?
CS: Caster Semenya.
FB: Cast yo semenz at what?
FB: You some kinda affa-leet bitch?
CS: That's right Miss Foxiness. I am being a runner. I breakin records.
FB: How come you Affickan bitches so fast? Is you bein chased by hyenas? When Sally Strubbers fly by and drop a sack of wheat in your hood, do you gots to get there first if you wants supper?
CS: I am a serious runner, I train every day.
FB: Bitch, don't get sassy. Foxy tryin' to lay some queshinz on yo azz.
CS: Then Miss Foxiness is laying that shiz-nit on a person of ambiguous gender.
FB: Dayum girl, yo voice sound like Barry White. You all pumped up like fiddy. You gots titties and a five o'clock shadow. Is you packin' a pony or a hoobajoo in yo draws?
CS: I am a female, Miss Foxiness. And when the test come back in two monfs I will be proving dat shiz-nit.
FB: How come dat take two f*ckin monfs? Why can't those foos just yank down yo draws and look at yo hoobajoo?
CS: Because I gots whatchoo call testosterone in my body.
FB: Ooo, chile! Foxy gets da testawhatzit in her fine bod-ay ev'ry time da Dominos boy deliver his pepperoni up a lady's poo hole! Dat fine boy can cast his semez at Foxy any time, yo.
CS: They fink I might be a hermaphrodite.
FB: Foo, Lil' Kim gots her afro dyed too and now she look like a cheap-azz ho.
CS: True dat.
FB: Don't it also be true dat yo coach used to injeck German affa-leet bitches wif so much juice they all turn into a bunch of horses?
CS: Those cracka judges tryin to take my trophy away, dat's wassup.
FB: You gots to tell those mo-fos to suck yo dick, girl. Respeck.
Foxy sez: "Ya'll gots to suskibe to dis coo blog's feed, mo-fo."