| Mmmmmmmmm-HMM
|
| See.
|
| I told you.
|
| See, I told y’all muh’fuckers
|
| Yo yo. |
| that stupid nigga man
|
| I told y’all to stop!
|
| He fucked up, yo.
|
| I pray for you to stop
|
| Yo, yo yo yo, yo. |
| yo. |
| yo.
|
| Yo, yo yo yo, yo.
|
| But no, you didn’t stop
|
| Yo. |
| yo.
|
| And now, we won’t stop
|
| Chorus: sung by Notorious B.I.G. |
| (repeat 2X)
|
| Time, time for you to die
|
| As I kiss. |
| yo'. |
| ass. |
| goodnight
|
| I make yo’mouthpiece obese like Della Reese
|
| When I release, you loose teeth like Lil’Cease
|
| Nigga please, blood floods yo’Dungarees
|
| And that’s just the half on my warpath
|
| Laugh now cry later, I rhyme greater
|
| than the average playa hater, and spectators
|
| buy my CD twice; |
| they see me in the streets
|
| They be like, Yo he nice, but that’s on the low doe
|
| Be the cats with no dough, tried to play me at my show
|
| I pull out fo'-fo's, and go up in they clothes
|
| Short-change niggaz, snort-caine niggaz
|
| Extortion came quicker, bought the Range nigga
|
| Ya still tickle me, I used to be as strong as Ripple be til Lil’Cease crippled me Now I play hard, like my girls nipples be The game sour like like a pickle be, y’all know da rules
|
| Move from BK to New Jeruz -- thinkin bout
|
| all the planes we flew, bitches, we ran through
|
| Now the year’s new, I lay my game flat
|
| I want my spot back, take two
|
| Motherfuckers mad cause I blew, niggaz envious
|
| Too many niggaz on my dick, shit strenuous
|
| When my men bust, you just move wit such stamina
|
| Slugs missed ya, I ain’t mad at cha (we ain’t mad at cha)
|
| Blood rushin, concussions, ain’t nothin
|
| Catch cases, come out frontin, smokin somethin
|
| Sippin White Russians, bitch in the Benz bumpin
|
| I laced it wit the basic, six TV’s a system
|
| Knockin Mase shit, face it, we hard to hit
|
| Guard ya shit, 'fore I stick you, for your re-up
|
| Wipe the pee up, mixed shots, woke your seed up Go in the ashtray, spark the weed up, LONG KISS
|
| Now. |
| we don’t give a fuck.
|
| We just absolutely. |
| don’t give a fuck.
|
| Because. |
| there ain’t no motherfuckin love here.
|
| There ain’t no love here.
|
| You know, we. |
| we just gon’keep doin what we do We gon’keep FUCKIN YOU UP.
|
| And I’ma keep stompin your MOTHERFUCKIN HEAD IN
|
| you FUCKIN BITCH, c’mon!
|
| Uhh. |
| I’m flamin gats, aimin at, these fuckin
|
| maniacs, put my name in raps, what part the
|
| game is that? |
| Like they hustle backwards
|
| I smoke Blackwoods and Dutchies, ya can’t touch me Try to rush me, slugs go, touchy-touchy
|
| You’re bleedin lovely, wit’chyo, spirit above me or beneath me, your whole life you live sneaky
|
| Now you rest eternally, sleepy, you burn when you creep me Rest where the worms and the weak be My nine flies, baptize, rap guys
|
| With the Holy Ghost, I put holes in most
|
| You hold your toast shaky, slippin tryin to break me Look what you made me do, brains blew
|
| My team in the marine-blue, six Coupe
|
| Skied it out, weeded out, cleanin out -- the block
|
| for distances, givin long kisses BITCH
|
| All we have to do now. |
| is say a prayer for you. |
| y’know?
|
| That’s all we have to do, just to pray for your mind. |
| cause.
|
| Eheh, see your mind got control of your heart.
|
| when it’s supposed to be the other way around
|
| Your heart’s supposed to got control of your mind.
|
| So now, I have no feelings for you
|
| You have made me cold.
|
| Frank White the menacin, Chron Chron’s the medicine
|
| I got the lettuce and, you turn green like cucumber skin
|
| Got the new, Hummer in the summer when I was a new comer
|
| then, drugs and mac-10's
|
| Hugs from fake friends, make ends they hate you
|
| Be broke -- girls won’t date you
|
| That’s why I relate to, choke yo’ass out til your face blue
|
| Make you, open the safe too
|
| No matter how you call it (how you call it)
|
| this brolic, alcoholic.
|
| like his weed green’d out, like his brick solid
|
| Distribute to, kids who, take heart like Valentine
|
| Drink Ballentine, all the time
|
| Slugs hit your chest tap you spine, flatline
|
| Heard through the grapevine, you got fucked fo’times
|
| Damn that three to nine, fucked you up for real doe
|
| Sling steal slow, as for remorse, we feel no See the fucked up thing is that I love you.
|
| yaknahmsayin?
|
| It’s just in my nature to love you.
|
| I can’t hate you. |
| cause it’s not in my nature to hate you.
|
| You know, I don’t know.
|
| Maybe. |
| I’m a different type of individual.
|
| But. |
| you have me on the line.
|
| and there’s a thin line between love and hate
|
| And God forbid I cross that line.
|
| Cause y’all not gonna give a fuck
|
| I’m tellin you right, MOTHERFUCKIN, NOW!
|
| THE SHIT, Y’ALL DONE STARTED, IS NEVER GONNA STOP!!!
|
| WE ARE NEVER GONNA STOP!!!
|
| And we not talkin bout. |
| no other rappers.
|
| We talkin bout YOU motherfucker
|
| YOU KNOW, who I’m talkin to.
|
| We comin for you.
|
| We comin for you. |
| ehehehehheh
|
| The shit’s gon’feel so good.
|
| I’m gon’make you love me baby |