Rap Phenomenon

Lyrics

[Intro] "Well it's the Funk Docta Spock.." "Meth-Tical.." "Biggie... Biggie..." (Mmmhmmmmmm) Uhh... uhh... uhh... (Yo, c'mon, Big) uhh... [Verse 1: Notorious B.I.G.] Fuck that, I preach it, my nine reaches The prestigious–cats that speak this, Willie shit Flooded pieces, my hand releases, snatches Smack your 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 laying 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 'bout to die, nigga – wait, keep your hands high (Yo... yo yo) [Verse 2: Redman] I don't brown nose out of town hoes I'm up around fo' with the crowbar to the 5.0 I get bagged, I'm "John Doe: suspect" You ass like prime roasting, 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 trusting niggas since Gotti got caught It's Bricks, keep your wrist covered, I'm piss colored By the waist, got a gun as dark as Kris' brother I.C.U. – my shiesty crew, like, "Ice me too" I break your legs, leave your eyes slightly blue The Doc is born with a grenade palm I'm concurrent in your hood like a teenage mom Yo, Biggie (What? What?) – she having my baby If I pull out the A.K., keep your hands high [Chorus: DJ Premier scratching Notorious B.I.G & Method Man samples] "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" "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" [Verse 3: Notorious B.I.G.] 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 "uou don't stop"s Me and my nigga Lance, took Kim and Cease 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 Niggas spit be counterfeit, robbery come naturally In and out like fucking rapidly, pass the gat to me Make his chest rest, where his back should be, talkin' blasphemy Blasting me, your family, rest in coffins often Frank Wizzah, far from soft or frág–illa Play hard like Reggie Mille; rapper, slash dope dealer Slash guerilla, slash illest turned iller [Verse 4: Method Man] 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 niggas, 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 egos And three charges, I got to see-three-P.O.'s This is Whoop-Your-Ass Day, the sequel High bar flow-er, with no equal Niggas swingin' swords in the war – that's my people Sho' nuff, before 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, Jesus, 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 door To kill the bullshit like a matador Keep your hands high (What?)