Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rap Phenomenon, artist - The Notorious B.I.G.. Album song Born Again, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 19.04.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Bad Boy, Rhino Entertainment Company
Song language: English
Rap Phenomenon |
«Well it’s the Funk Docta Spock.» |
«Meth-Tical.» |
«Biggie. |
Biggie."(mmmhmmmmmm) |
Uhh. |
uhh. |
uhh. |
(yo c’mon Big) uhh. |
Fuck that, I preach it, my nine reaches |
the prestigious, cats that speak this, Willie shit |
Flooded pieces, my hand releases, snatches |
Smack ya cabbage, half-ass rappers, shouldn’t have it |
So I grab it, never run, the outcome |
is usually, a beatdown brutally, fuck who you be |
or where you’re from, West or East coast, squeeze toast |
Leave most in the blood they layin in, what, what? |
The rings and things you sing about, bring em out |
It’s hard to yell when the barrel’s in your mouth |
It’s more than I expected, I thought your jewels was rented |
but they wasn’t, so run it, cousin |
I could chill, the heat doesn’t |
Ran up in your shell about a dozen |
You never see bank like Frank White |
Your hand clutching, your chest-plate contemplate |
You bought to die, nigga wait, keep yo' hands high |
Yo. |
yo yo |
I don’t brownnose out of town hoes |
I’m up around fo' with the crowbar to the five point oh |
I get bagged, I’m John Doe, suspect |
You ass like prime roastin, Calvin Klein clothes |
Explode the pyros when Doc guest appear |
I’m out there, I bought it with George Jetson here |
Your time is near, so get your body dropped off |
I stopped trustin niggaz since Gotti got caught |
It’s Bricks keep your wrist covered, or piss colored |
By the waist got a gun as dark as Kris brother |
I.C.U., my sheisty crew, like ice me too |
I break your legs, leave your eyes slightly blue |
The Doc was born with a grenade palm |
I’m concurrent in your hood like a, teenage mom |
Yo Biggie (what? what?) She havin my bay-bayy |
If I pull out the A.K., keep your hands high |
«This rule is so underrated."→ |
«Actin as if it can’t happen, you’re frontin"→ |
«Ain't no other kings in this rap thing."→ |
«Biggie, a motherfuckin rap phenomenon"→ |
Uhh, uhh |
I got a new mouth to feed, I’m due South with keys |
Y’all pick seeds out y’all weed, I watch cowards bleed |
Motherfucker please, it’s my block with my rocks |
Fuck that hip-hop, them one-two's, and you don’t stops |
Me and my nigga Lance, took Kim and Cee’s advance |
Bought ten bricks, four pounds of weed plants |
from Branson, now we lampin, twelve room mansion |
Bitches get naked off «Get Money», «Player's Anthem» |
Don’t forget, «One More Chance"and, my other hits, other shit |
niggaz spit be counterfeit, robbery come actually |
in and out like fuckin rapidly, pass the gat to me |
Make his chest rest, where his back should be, talkin blasphemy |
Blastin me, your family, rest in coffins often |
Frank Wizzard, fuck you soft or fragilla |
Play hard like Reggie Miller, rapper, slash dope dealer |
slash Gorilla, slash illest turned killer |
Now now |
Don’t approach me with that rah rah shit, you out of pocket |
I take these adolescents back to Spofford |
Mentally my energy, is like a figure eight, on it’s side |
that’s infinity -- too many sick niggaz, nickel nines; |
bring the remedy -- when you play the field, what’s the penalty |
Unnecessary roughness, career endin injuries for suckers |
Stuck on stupid, shoot em with a dart like Cupid |
until they got love for my music |
Star Wars I’m Han Solo, with three egoes |
and three charges, I got to «See-three-P.O.'s» |
This is whoop-yo'-ass-day, the sequel |
Eyeball blower with no equal, niggaz swingin swords in the WAR |
that’s my people, sho' nuff, befo' I roll up |
This is a hold up, hands high, reach for the sky |
I rep S.I., the unpretty, word to Left Eye |
New York Shitty, put they weight on it |
And who better for the job than Biggie? |
The Notorious |
Jeee-zus, «Unbelievable"rhyme that reaches |
and touch individual, small frame buck and change |
MC, What’s-Your-Name, tuck your chain |
All about the fortune, fuck the fame, labels still extortin |
Kick me when I’m down, but I’m up again, scorchin |
Hot -- forcin my way up in the ?? |
to kill the bullshit like a matador |
Keep your hands high (what?) |