| Now, who’s hot who not
|
| Tell me who rock who sell out in the stores
|
| You tell me who flopped who copped the blue drop
|
| Who jewels got robbed who’s mostly Goldie down
|
| To the tube sock, the same ol pimp
|
| Mike, you know ain’t nuttin change but my limp
|
| Can’t stop till I see my name on a blimp
|
| Guarantee a million sales pullin all the love
|
| You don’t believe in Harlem World double up
|
| We don’t play around it’s a bet lay it down
|
| Didn’t know me ninety-one bet they know me now
|
| I’m the young Newark child with the New Jersey sound
|
| Can’t no Ph.D. |
| hold me down, Cooter
|
| Schooled me to the game, now I know my duty
|
| Stay humble stay low blow like Hootie
|
| True pimp spend no dough on the duty
|
| And then ya yell there go Mike there go your cutie
|
| I don’t know what, they want from me
|
| It’s like the more money we come across
|
| The more problems we see
|
| Yeah yeah, ahaha, from the J-to-the-E-to-the-E-Z-Y
|
| Know you’d rather see me die than to see me fly
|
| I call all the shots
|
| Rip all the spots, rock all the rocks
|
| Cop all the drops, I know you thinkin now’s
|
| When all the ballin stops, never never
|
| Home gotta call me on the yacht
|
| Ten years from now we’ll still be on top
|
| Yo, I thought I told you that we won’t stop
|
| Now whatcha gonna do when it’s cool
|
| Bag a money much longer than yours
|
| And a team much stronger than yours, violate me
|
| This’ll be your day, we don’t play
|
| Mess around be D.O.A., be on your way
|
| Cause it ain’t enough time here, ain’t enough lime here
|
| For you to shine here, deal with many women
|
| But treat dimes fair, and I’m
|
| Bigger than the city lights down in Times Square
|
| Yeah, yeah yeah
|
| I don’t know what, they want from me
|
| It’s like the more money we come across
|
| The more problems we see
|
| Uhh, uhhh
|
| No info, for the, DEA
|
| Federal agents mad cause I’m flagrant
|
| Tap my cell, and the phone in the basement
|
| My team supreme, stay clean
|
| Triple beam lyrical dream, I be that
|
| Cat you see at all events bent
|
| Gats in holsters girls on shoulders
|
| Playboy, I told ya, bein mice to me
|
| Bruise too much, I lose, too much
|
| Step on stage the girls boo too much
|
| I guess it’s cause you run with lame dudes too much
|
| Me lose my touch, never that
|
| If I did, ain’t no problem to get the gat
|
| Where the true players at?
|
| Throw your Rollies in the sky
|
| Wave em side to side and keep your hands high
|
| While I give your girl the eye, player please
|
| Lyrically, I see, B.I.G
|
| Be flossin jig on the cover of Fortune
|
| Five double oh, here’s my phone number
|
| Your man ain’t got to know, I got to go
|
| Got the flow down pat, platinum plus
|
| Like that, dangerous
|
| On track, no hands back
|
| I don’t know what, they want from me
|
| It’s like the more money we come across
|
| The more problems we see
|
| What’s goin on?
|
| What’s goin on?
|
| I don’t know what, they want from me
|
| It’s like the more money we come across
|
| The more problems we see
|
| (repeat 3X to fade) |