| Nigga was motherfuckin HYPED UP
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| Nigga just grabbed the nigga, snuffed the nigga
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| and it was on from there
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| The motherfucker there wasn’t nuttin stoppin him
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| (What what did the rest of his niggaz do?)
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| Man the motherfuckers was just ready for anything
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| Them niggaz was packin burners
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| Them niggaz was ready to fight
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| whatever we had to do holmes
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| Niggaz was on the real flipout holmes
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| It was just comin out like a motherfucker
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| The nigga amped be like COME ON, COME ON MOTHERFUCKER!
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| Chorus: repeat 8X
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| Come on motherfuckers, come on Man what you fuck doin over here?
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| Are you awake now?
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| Hell yah I’m awake man;
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| now tell me what the fuck is goin on here
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| Looks like the competition stopped by to pay us a little visit, and check us out
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| Let’s go deep into the phrase, beautiful sunrays
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| off the baldhead, everything is real
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| Biggie me put on this joint so I’ma be the big wheel
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| Watch it Slim, hey Dad, place yo’bet on seven
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| Peace to one-oh-six, one-oh-eight, one-to-the-hundred-eleventh
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| Hey Biggie, I understand you’re from Brooklyn
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| with 22's in your shoes, yo keep the shank ready
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| Uhhh well, why not blow up the spot with Sadat
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| Release the BRAINSTORM, to make your motherfuckin BRAIN WARM
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| A strange form, somethin kind of lyrical
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| Biggie the bastard, Sadat’s kind of spiritual
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| Well In God We Trust, guns I bust
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| Got that disgustin, sewer style dumpin
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| and that uhh do you knowwwwww, where you’re goin to Do you like the things that I bring?
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| Make an emcee wanna sing for a livin
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| Take the beatdown we fuckin givin, c’mon motherfucker
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| What? |
| Niggaz want drama, puttin work on my block
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| when I told y’all last week, that shit was too hot
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| Sellin pieces and treys, cuts my dimes
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| Somebody gon’get paid, somebody block get sprayed
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| Reaction is delayed as y’all run down the block
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| Caught one in your chest, your breath come in spurts
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| Hey yo Biggie tell these niggaz I’ma hit em where it hurts
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| The big city it don’t spare no bodies
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| Call me papichulo, to all the spanish mamis
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| I’m about ten blunts down, drank three or fo’stouts
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| Seen five fat asses, passed this bitch with glasses
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| Hey yo money that’s yo’stock, yo Bigs pass the glock
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| I’ma tell him it can happen, don’t play me with that rap shit
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| Life is real, so Biggie take the steel
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| Uhh
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| I got seven Mac-11's, about eight, .38's
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| Nine 9's, ten Mac-10's, the shits never end
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| You can’t touch my riches
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| Even if you had MC Hammer and them 357 bitches
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| Biggie Smalls, the millionaire, the mansion, the yacht
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| The two weed spots, the two hot glocks
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| HAH, that’s how I got the weed spot
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| I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the landspread
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| Lil’Gotti got the shotty to your body
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| So don’t resist, or you might miss Christmas
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| I tote guns, I make number runs
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| I give emcees the runs drippin;
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| when I throw my clip in the A.K., I slay from far away
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| Everybody hit the D-E-C-K
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| My slow flows remarkable
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| Peace to Matteo
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| Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniff the llello
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| That’s crazy blunts, mad L’s
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| My voice excels from the avenue to jailcells
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| Oh my God I’m droppin shit like a pigeon
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| I hope you’re listenin, smackin babies at they christening
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| So you better grab your pistol
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| cause if you sit still, I’m gonna make your fuckin shit spill
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| And I’m talkin bout buckets, why did I have to do it?
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| Sadat said fuck it, you got a gun, nigga bust it Cause I got mo’shots to pop-ya
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| Big Pop-pa, breakin you off somethin proper
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| Signin off is the hardcore rap singer
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| a.k.a. crack slinger, bring it anytime nigga |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Come On , by - The Notorious B.I.G.. Song from the album Born Again, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп