[Verse 1] So you wanna be hardcore With your hat to the back Talking about the gats in your raps But I can't feel that hardcore Appeal that you're screaming Maybe I'm dreaming This ain't Christopher Williams, still some MC's got to feel one Caps, I got to peel some To let niggas know That if you fuck with big-and-heavy I get up in that ass like a wedgie Says who - says me, the lyrical Niggas saying: \"Biggie off the street, it's a miracle!\" Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me Just for niggas acting shifty Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat'll kill you quicker Especially when I'm drunk off the liquor Smoking blunts by the boxes, packing Glocks It's natural to eat you niggas like chocolates The funk, baby
[Hook] \"I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk\"
[Verse 2] All I want is bitches, big-booty bitches Used to sell crack, so I could stack my riches Now I pack gats to stop all the snitches From staying in my business, what is this, relentless Approach to know if I'm broke or not Just cause I joke and smoke a lot Don't mean I don't tote the Glock 16 shots for my niggas in the pen Until we motherfucking meet again I'm doing rhymes now, fuck the crimes now Come on the ave, I'm real hard to find now Cause I'm knee-deep in the beats In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the MAC-10 by the seats For the jackers, the jealous-ass crackers in the *blue suits* I'll make you prove that it's bulletproof Hold your head, cause when you hit the bricks I got gin, mad blunts, and bitches sucking dick The funk, baby
[Hook]
[Verse 3] So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side How I smoked funk, smacked bitches on the backside Bed-Stuy: the place where my head rests 50-shot clip if a nigga want test The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya High as a motherfucking helicopter That's why I pack a Nina, fuck a misdeameanor Beating motherfuckers like Ike beat Tina \"What's love got to do\"? When I'm ripping all through your whole crew Strapped like Bamboo but I don't sling guns I got bags of funk and it's selling by the tons Niggas want to know how I live the mack life Making money, smoking mics like crack pipes It's type simple and plain to maintain I add a little funk to the brain The funk, baby