Hah, sicker than your average
Poppa twist cabbage off instinct
Niggas don't think shit stink
Pink gators, my Detroit players
Timbs for my hooligans in Brooklyn
Dead right, if the head right, Biggie there e'ry night
Poppa been smooth since days of Underroos
Never lose, never choose to, bruise crews who
Do somethin' to us, talk go through us
Girls walk to us, wanna do us, screw us
Who us? Yeah, Poppa and Puff
Close like Starsky and Hutch, stick the clutch
Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M-3
(Take that, take that, take that, ha ha!)
Bang every MC easily, busily
Recently niggas frontin', ain't sayin' nothin'
So I just speak my piece, keep my peace
Cubans with the Jesus piece, with my peeps
Packin', askin', "Who want it?"
You got it, nigga, flaunt it
That Brooklyn bullshit, we on it
Biggie, Biggie, Biggie, can't you see?
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid
I put hoes in NY onto DKNY
Miami, D.C. prefer Versace
All Philly hoes go with Moschino
Every cutie with a booty bought a Coogi
Now who's the real dookie?
Meaning, who's really the shit?
Them niggas ride dicks, Frank White push the six
Or the Lexus, LX, four and a half
Bulletproof glass, tints if I want some ass
Gonna blast, squeeze first, ask questions last
That's how most of these so-called gangsters pass
At last, a nigga rappin' about blunts and broads
Tits and bras, ménage à trois, sex in expensive cars
I still leave you on the pavement
Condo paid for, no car payment
At my arraignment, note for the plaintiff
"Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement"
Face it, not guilty, that's how I stay filthy
Richer than Richie, 'til you niggas come and get me
Biggie, Biggie, Biggie, can't you see?
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid
I can fill you with real millionaire shit (I can fill ya)
Escargot, my car go, one sixty, swiftly
Wreck it, buy a new one
Your crew run-run-run, your crew run-run
I know you sick of this, name brand nigga with
Flows, girls say he's sweet like licorice
So, get with this nigga, it's easy
Girlfriend, here's a pen, call me round ten
Come through, have sex on rugs that's Persian
Come up to your job, hit you while you workin'
For certain, Poppa freakin', not speakin'
Leave that ass leakin', like rapper demo
Tell them ho take they clothes off slowly
Hit 'em with the force like Obi
Dick black like Toby
Watch me roam like Romey
Lucky they don't owe me
Where the safe? Show me, homie (homie)
