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The Notorious B I G
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Letra actual de la canción
Who the fuck is this? Pagin me at 5:46 in the mornin crack o' dawnin<br />Now I'm yawnin, wipe the cold out my eye<br />See who's this pagin me and why..<br />It's my nigga Pop from the barbershop<br />Told me he was in the gamblin spot and heard the intricate plot<br />Some niggaz wanna stick me like fly paper neighbor<br />Slow down love please chill, drop the caper<br />'Remember them niggaz from the hill up in Brownsville? <br />That you rolled dice wit, smoked the blunts and got nice wit?'<br />'Yeah, my nigga Fame up in Prospect<br />Nah, dem my niggaz nah, love wouldn't disrespect'<br />'I didn't say dem, they schooled me to some niggaz <br />that you knew from back when, when you was clockin minor figures<br />Now they heard you blowin up like nitro<br />and they wanna stick the knife through your windpipe slow<br />So, thank Fame for warnin me now I'm warnin you<br />I got the mac nigga, tell me what you wanna do...<br /><br />[Chorus X4:]<br />Damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper.<br /><br />'They heard about the rolexs and the lexus<br />wit the Texas license plate outta state<br />They heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown<br />Now they heard you got half Virginia locked down<br />They even heard about the crib you bought your moms out in Florida<br />the fifth corridor....' Call the coroner<br />There's gonna be alot of slow singin<br />And flower bringin if my burgular alarm starts ringin<br />Whatcha think all the guns is for? <br />All purpose war, got the Rottweilers by the door<br />And I feed em gun powder so they can devour<br />The criminals tryin to drop my decimals<br />Damn, niggaz wanna stick my for my CREAM<br />and in a dream things ain't always how it seems<br />It's the ones that smoke blunts witcha<br />See your picture, now they wanna grab they guns and come and getcha<br />Betcha Biggie won't slip, I got the calico<br />with the black talons loaded in the clip<br />So I can rip through the ligaments<br />put the fuckers in a bad prediciment<br />Where all the foul niggas went<br />Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta<br />Buck what I had you with you motherfuckers betta duck<br />I bring pain, blood stains on blood of what remains<br />of his jacket, he had a gun he should'eve packed it<br />Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket<br />So I can reload and explode down ya asshole<br />I fuck around and get hardcore, C-4 to ya door no beef no more<br />Nigga, feel the rush, scandalous<br />The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous<br />I don't give a fuck about you or your weak crew<br />What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you?<br />Im not runnin, nigga I bust my gun in<br />Hold on I hear somebody comin...
Letra nueva de la canción
Who the fuck is this? Pagin me at 5:46 in the mornin crack o' dawnin<br />Now I'm yawnin, wipe the cold out my eye<br />See who's this pagin me and why..<br />It's my nigga Pop from the barbershop<br />Told me he was in the gamblin spot and heard the intricate plot<br />Some niggaz wanna stick me like fly paper neighbor<br />Slow down love please chill, drop the caper<br />'Remember them niggaz from the hill up in Brownsville? <br />That you rolled dice wit, smoked the blunts and got nice wit?'<br />'Yeah, my nigga Fame up in Prospect<br />Nah, dem my niggaz nah, love wouldn't disrespect'<br />'I didn't say dem, they schooled me to some niggaz <br />that you knew from back when, when you was clockin minor figures<br />Now they heard you blowin up like nitro<br />and they wanna stick the knife through your windpipe slow<br />So, thank Fame for warnin me now I'm warnin you<br />I got the mac nigga, tell me what you wanna do...<br /><br />[Chorus X4:]<br />Damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper.<br /><br />'They heard about the rolexs and the lexus<br />wit the Texas license plate outta state<br />They heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown<br />Now they heard you got half Virginia locked down<br />They even heard about the crib you bought your moms out in Florida<br />the fifth corridor....' Call the coroner<br />There's gonna be alot of slow singin<br />And flower bringin if my burgular alarm starts ringin<br />Whatcha think all the guns is for? <br />All purpose war, got the Rottweilers by the door<br />And I feed em gun powder so they can devour<br />The criminals tryin to drop my decimals<br />Damn, niggaz wanna stick my for my CREAM<br />and in a dream things ain't always how it seems<br />It's the ones that smoke blunts witcha<br />See your picture, now they wanna grab they guns and come and getcha<br />Betcha Biggie won't slip, I got the calico<br />with the black talons loaded in the clip<br />So I can rip through the ligaments<br />put the fuckers in a bad prediciment<br />Where all the foul niggas went<br />Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta<br />Buck what I had you with you motherfuckers betta duck<br />I bring pain, blood stains on blood of what remains<br />of his jacket, he had a gun he should'eve packed it<br />Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket<br />So I can reload and explode down ya asshole<br />I fuck around and get hardcore, C-4 to ya door no beef no more<br />Nigga, feel the rush, scandalous<br />The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous<br />I don't give a fuck about you or your weak crew<br />What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you?<br />Im not runnin, nigga I bust my gun in<br />Hold on I hear somebody comin...
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