| Niggas, grab your dick if you love hip-hop
|
| Bitches, rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
|
| Gotcha open off the words I say because
|
| This type of shit, it happens every day (Check it out, uh)
|
| Now who smoke more blunts than a little bit?
|
| What are you a idiot? |
| Listen to the lyrics I spit like M1's
|
| Got mad guns up in the cabin
|
| 'Cause Cease ain’t the one for the dibbin' and dabbin' shit
|
| I make it happen, you got your ass caught
|
| All you saw was fire from the Honda Passport
|
| Or the M.P., what if you see, then I miss ya
|
| I blow up spots like little sisters
|
| Gwaan grit ya teeth, gwaan bite ya nails to the cuticles
|
| Like Murray, my killings be the most beautiful
|
| Junior M.A.F.I.A. |
| clique thick like Luke dancers
|
| Niggas grab your gats, bitches take a glance at
|
| The little one, pullin' over in the Land Rover
|
| Playin' Big Willie style with the chauffeur, you know what I mean?
|
| Stack the green, read all between the lines
|
| A nigga act up, makes the bastard hard to find
|
| Niggas, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
|
| Bitches, rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
|
| Gotcha open off the words I say because
|
| This type of shit, it happens every day
|
| Niggas, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
|
| Bitches, rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
|
| Gotcha open off the words I say because
|
| This type of shit, it happens every day
|
| How ya livin' Biggie Smalls? |
| I’m surrounded by criminals
|
| Heavy rollers, even the sheisty individuals
|
| Smokin' skunk and mad Phillies
|
| Beatin' down Billy Badasses, cracks and stacks in masses
|
| If robbery’s a class, bet I pass it
|
| Shit get drastic, I’m buryin' you bastards
|
| Big Poppa never softenin'
|
| Take you to the church, rob the preacher for the offerin'
|
| Leave the fucker coughin' up blood and his pockets like rabbit ears
|
| Covet the wife, Kleenex for the kid’s tears
|
| Versace wear, Moschino on my bitches
|
| She whippin' my ride, countin' my ones, thinkin' I’m richest
|
| Just the way players play, all day, every day
|
| I don’t know what else to say
|
| I’ve been robbin' niggas since Run and them was singin' «Here We Go»
|
| Snatchin' ropes at the Roxy, homeboy, you didn’t know?
|
| My flow, detrimental to your health
|
| Usually roll for self, I have son ridin' shotgun
|
| My mind’s my nine, my pen’s my MAC-10
|
| My target, all you wack niggas who started rappin'
|
| Junior M.A.F.I.A. |
| steelo, niggas know the half
|
| Caviar for breakfast, champagne bubble baths
|
| Runnin' up in pretty bitches constantly
|
| The Smalls, bitch, who the fuck it was supposed to be?
|
| Niggas, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
|
| Bitches, rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
|
| Gotcha open off the words I say because
|
| This type of shit, it happens every day
|
| Niggas, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
|
| Bitches, rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
|
| Gotcha open off the words I say because
|
| This type of shit, it happens every day
|
| I used to pack MACs in Cadillacs
|
| Now I pimp gats in the Ac’s, watch my niggas backs
|
| Nines in the stores, Glocks in the bags
|
| Maxin' mini-markets, gettin' money with the Arabs
|
| No question, confession, yes it’s the lyrical
|
| Bitches, squeeze your tits, niggas, grab your genitals
|
| Proteins and minerals, exclude subliminals
|
| Big Momma shoots the game to all you Willies and criminals
|
| I kick the really with my peeps all day
|
| 325's roll by with the windows down halfway
|
| D-K-N-Y, oh my, I’m jiggy
|
| It’s all about the Smalls and my fuckin' nigga Biggie
|
| Bitches love the way I bust a rhyme
|
| 'Cause they all in line screamin', «One more time!»
|
| Niggas, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop
|
| Bitches rub-a-dub in the back of the club, straight up |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Player's Anthem, artist - Junior M.A.F.I.A.. Album song Conspiracy, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп