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作词 : Notorious B.I.G./Jalacy Hawkins/Chris Martin |
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作曲 : Notorious B.I.G./Jalacy Hawkins/Chris Martin |
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This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you |
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This goes out to you |
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This goes out to you |
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This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you |
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Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns |
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As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons |
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Get in that ass, quick fast like ramadan |
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It's that rap phenomenon |
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Don-Dadda, nigga |
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PoppaYou got ta, call me, |
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Francis M. |
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H. WhiteIn tank-light totes, tote iron |
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Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin' |
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Keep extra clips for extra shit |
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Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap |
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The mo shady, "Tell em", |
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Frankie baby |
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Ain't no tellin' where |
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I may beMay see me in |
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D.C. at Howard |
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Homecomin' |
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With my man |
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Capone, dumbin, niggas somethin' |
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You should know my steelo |
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Went from ten |
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G's for blow to thirty |
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G's a show |
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To orgies with hoes |
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I never seen befo' |
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So, Jesus, get off the |
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Notorious niggas before |
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I squeeze and bust |
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If the beef between us, we can settle it |
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With the chrome and metal shit |
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I make it hot, like a kettle get |
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You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya? |
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You still pedal shit |
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I got more rides than |
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Great Adventure |
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Biggie, "How are you gonna do it?" |
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Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four |
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All you heard was |
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Poppa don't hit me no more |
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Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four |
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All you heard was |
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Poppa don't hit me no more |
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Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four |
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All you heard was |
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Poppa don't hit me no more |
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Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four |
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All you heard was |
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Poppa don't hit me no more |
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On ya mark, get set, when |
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I spark, ya wet |
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Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death |
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Should I start your breath or should |
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I let you die? |
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In fear you start to cry, ask why |
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Lyrically, |
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I'm wor*******pped, don't front the word sick |
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You cursed it, but rehearsed it |
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I drop unexpectedly like bird shit |
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You herbs get stuck quickly for royalties and show money |
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Don't forget the publi*******n', |
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I punish 'em, |
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I'm done with them |
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Son, I'm surprised you run with them |
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I think they got cum in them 'cuz they nothin' but niggas |
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Tryin' to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks |
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Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick |
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Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click |
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Take trips to |
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Cairo, layin' with yo niggas |
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I know you prayin' you was rich, nigga |
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When I see ya |
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I'maKick in the door, wavin' the four-four |
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All you heard was |
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Poppa don't hit me no more |
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Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four |
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All you heard was |
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Poppa don't hit me no more |
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Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four |
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All you heard was |
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Poppa don't hit me no more |
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Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four |
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All you heard was |
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Poppa don't hit me no more |
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This goes out for those that choose to use |
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Disrespectful views on the |
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King of NY |
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**** that, why try, throw bleach in your eye |
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Now ya Braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin' it |
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Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight |
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Sold more powder than |
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Johnson and |
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JohnsonTote steel like |
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Bronson, vigilante |
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You wanna get on son, you need to ask me |
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Ain't no other king in this rap thing |
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They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren |
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One shot, they disappearin' |
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It's ill when |
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MC's used to be on cruddy shit |
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Took home, |
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Ready to Die, listened, studied shit |
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Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue |
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They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly |
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Make the white shake, that's why my money never funny |
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And you still recoupin', stupid |
