[Intro: Diddy]
Its Bad Boy bitch
Scram Jones... the Clipse... B.I.G
Let's go

[Verse 1: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Niggas in my faction don't like asking questions
Strictly gun testing, coke measuring
Giving pleasure in the Benz-ito
Hitting fanny, spendin chips at Manny's
Hope you creeps got receipts, my peeps get dirty like cleats
Run up in your crib, wrap you in your Polo sheets
Six up in your wig piece, nigga decease
Muah!, may you rest in peace
With my Sycamore style, more sicker than yours
Four-four, and fifty-four draw
As my pilot, steers my Leer
Yes my dear shit's official, only the Feds I fear
Here's a tissue, stop your blood clot crying
The kids, the dog, everybody dyin, no lying
So don't you get suspicious
I'm Big dangerous you're just a Little Vicious
As I leave my competition, respirator style
Climb the ladder to success, escalator style
Hold y'all breath, I told y'all, death controls y'all
Big don't fold y'all, (big don't fold y'all)
I spit phrases that'll thrill you, (thrill you)
You're nobody till somebody kills you (I don't wanna die)
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