[Intro: Funkmaster Flex]
Yeah, you know I had to get Bad Boy up on this piece
You know I had to get Bad Boy up on this piece!
Big shot to my man Puff Daddy, Notorious B.I.G., one time!
[Verse 1: Styles P]
I'd rather not breathe than snitch
And I love my niggas not my bitch, LOX pop the clip
If the rap game was the dope game
I be a chink named Liu Kang, sellin' Montega on my own plane
Movin' with, entrepreneurs, who run the law
Coke sniffin' bitches holdin' fours, talkin' war
Back to reality my mentality is fatality
Niggas makin' way over they salary
I think way out, like a fifty state lay-out
Thugs meetin' up in one city to have a spray out
Cartels bring in they coke, havin' a weigh out
Kingpins is crowned, blunts is lit
Ayo Styles don't exist, so a cell ain't shit
Jail ain't shit, God'll just teach me quick
If they put me in a cell then my ghost'll drift
Hold my inf, feel my soul give me the strength
[Verse 2: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Pop the gat, aim, squeeze precisely
Where them niggas at? Them faggots are sheisty
See the problem's that, you way too nice, please
Where that coke at? Fuck where it might be
Don't be like me, hard-headed, and stubborn
When my gun burn, much hotter than sunburn
You got one turn, I suggest you show
Me the stash to the cash and the blow, yo
Wherever I go, my crew, is true to swarm
Got stripes in New York like Yankee uniforms
When I was born, I know I make the world darker
The age of fifteen, tote gats, quick to spark ya
Like Bob Barker, if the price is right
Lay your ass down for spite, anybody, aight?
Went from eatin' no frills cereals with food stamps
To Armani materials, coppin' Rembrandts, what!
Yeah, you know I had to get Bad Boy up on this piece
You know I had to get Bad Boy up on this piece!
Big shot to my man Puff Daddy, Notorious B.I.G., one time!
[Verse 1: Styles P]
I'd rather not breathe than snitch
And I love my niggas not my bitch, LOX pop the clip
If the rap game was the dope game
I be a chink named Liu Kang, sellin' Montega on my own plane
Movin' with, entrepreneurs, who run the law
Coke sniffin' bitches holdin' fours, talkin' war
Back to reality my mentality is fatality
Niggas makin' way over they salary
I think way out, like a fifty state lay-out
Thugs meetin' up in one city to have a spray out
Cartels bring in they coke, havin' a weigh out
Kingpins is crowned, blunts is lit
Ayo Styles don't exist, so a cell ain't shit
Jail ain't shit, God'll just teach me quick
If they put me in a cell then my ghost'll drift
Hold my inf, feel my soul give me the strength
[Verse 2: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Pop the gat, aim, squeeze precisely
Where them niggas at? Them faggots are sheisty
See the problem's that, you way too nice, please
Where that coke at? Fuck where it might be
Don't be like me, hard-headed, and stubborn
When my gun burn, much hotter than sunburn
You got one turn, I suggest you show
Me the stash to the cash and the blow, yo
Wherever I go, my crew, is true to swarm
Got stripes in New York like Yankee uniforms
When I was born, I know I make the world darker
The age of fifteen, tote gats, quick to spark ya
Like Bob Barker, if the price is right
Lay your ass down for spite, anybody, aight?
Went from eatin' no frills cereals with food stamps
To Armani materials, coppin' Rembrandts, what!
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!