“Intro”
C’mon, shorty, stay push, c’mon
C’mon, c’mon, push it’s almost there
One more time, c’mon
C’mon, push, baby, one more time
Harder, harder, push it harder
Push, push, c’mon
One more time, here it goes
I see the head!
Yeah, c’mon!
Yeah! Yeah!
You did it, baby, yeah!
But if you lose, don’t ask no questions why
The only game you know is do or die
Ah-ha-ha
Hard to understand what a hell of a man
Hip hop the hippie the hippie
To the hip hip hop and you don’t stop
Rock it out, baby bubba, to the boogie, the bang-bang
The boogie to the boogie that be
Now, what you hear is not a test
God damn it, Voletta, what the fuck are you doing?
You can’t control that God damn boy? What?
I just saw Mr. Johnson, he told me he caught the motherfucking boy shoplifting
What the fuck are you doing? (Get your black ass the fuck off!)
You can’t control that God—
I don’t know what the fuck to do with that boy
What the fuck do you want me to do?
If—if you can’t con—fucking control him
I’ma send him—(All you fucking do is bitch all day, motherfucker)
I’ma send him—bitch, bitch, I—
I’ma send his motherfucking ass to a group home God damn it, what?
I’ll smack the shit outta you, bitch! (Kick my black ass, motherfucker!)
What the fuck?
Yo—you—you are fucking up (Coming in here, smelling like sour socks, you dumb motherfucker)
I’ma fuck you up
When I’m busting up a party I feel no guilt
Gizmo’s cutting up for thee
Suckers that’s down with nei—
What, nigga, you wanna rob them motherfucking trains, you crazy?
Yes, yes, motherfucker, motherfucking right, nigga, yes
Nigga, what the fuck, nigga? We gonna get—
Nigga, it’s eighty-seven nigga, is you dead broke?
Yeah, nigga, but, but, nigga—
Motherfucker, is you broke, motherfucker?
We need to get some motherfucking paper, nigga
Yeah, but nigga, it’s a train, ain’t nobody robbed no motherfucking train
Just listen, man, your mother giving you money, nigga?
My moms don’t give me shit, nigga
It’s time to get paid, nigga
Is you with me?
Motherfucker, is you with me?
Yeah, I’m with you, nigga, c’mon
Alright then, nigga, let’s make it happen then
All you motherfuckers get on the fucking floor!
Get on the motherfucking floor!
Give me all your motherfucking money (And don’t move, nigga!)
I want the fucking jewelry, give me every-fucking-thing
Nigga I’d shut the fuck up or I’ma blow your motherfucking brains out! (Gimme your fucking money, motherfucker!)
Nigga, give me your jewelry, empty your pockets (Fuck you, bitch)
Get up off that shit
What the fuck you holding on to that shit for, bitch?
I get money, money I got
Stunts call me honey if they feel real hot
Open C-74, Smalls
Mr. Smalls, let me walk you to the door
So how does it feel leaving us?
C’mon man, what kind of fucking question is that man?
Trying to get the fuck up out this joint dog
Yeah, yeah, you’ll be back
You niggers always are
Go ahead man, what the fuck is you hollering about?
You won’t see me up in this motherfucker no more
We’ll see
I got big plans nigga, big plans, ha ha ha ha
About The Notorious B.I.G. Lyrics
Artist: The Notorious B.I.G.
Related Songs:
Album: : Ready to Die
Release date: September 13, 1994
Label: Bad Boy Records
Length: 69:05
Studio: The Hit Factory and D&D Studios, New York City
Genres: Hip hop music, Gangsta rap, East Coast hip hop, Funk, Hardcore hip hop, Pop rap, Rap music