(I fuck around and get hardcore) (hardcore) --> Biggie Smalls
[ VERSE 1 ] Listen to me get busy on this track, big shots to Kenny Parker It sparked ya, marked ya, son, you'se marked for death You gots to be more Man than Meth to fuck with Heath- er B, be breakin down styles quite simply You're causin me, hold up, wait, bitches is forcin me To show that I'm the ruggeder, I keep 'em turnin yellower See me, say to yourself, "I can't fuck with her" My rowdy nuccas got all things covered, what! Pick that time and that spot and we'll meet up I'm leavin bitches beat up, tell yo nucca roll his weed up Cause I'm yankin all you ass-stankin shorties By yo teeth, so keep yo comments brief The Lord-have-mercy's and the Oh-my-god's, plus the Please's You'll be sayin to your Jesus when my rhyme style releases So trick or lick a dick up, go find some fuckin work Cause the only thing you gon' get around here is hurt No doubt (No doubt)
(I fuck around and get hardcore) (hardcore) --> Biggie Smalls
[ VERSE 2 ] Y'all remember 'Um Tang, Um Tang'? Well now nuccas holler 'Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang!' This be a Jersey thang-thang, nothin but street slang Nothin but blunts hang from the lips of this lyricist You try and diss, it's a mistake but I'll excuse you Lose you, defuse you if you claim to be the bomb Y'all corny mothereffers and y'all slick-talkin heffers Y'all uppers and your lower lips need sewin together Y'all talk more shit than Al Sharpton when the mic on In person you'se a bitch with tight white panties on Bitch-ass, trick-ass, you can't rhyme Prepared me for take-off, I'm leavin niggas flatlined ( *flatline* ) I came with that eenie-meenie-minie-moe And caught a sleepin rapper by the toe I'm undisguised, you recognize me In the black jacket and boots made by Polo A sister that be rockin solo Over Thorough-Ass Bo, Tone flows with the two followed by three zeros In 2000 I ain't checkin for no heroes I just wanna sit back and count mad dinero And have the CREAM comin from my rear, yo I speak crystal-clear, so I know that you heard me Heather B be the one hollerin 'Jersey!' Chilltown up in this piece And the Coast be the motherfuckin East No doubt (No doubt)
(I fuck around and get hardcore) (hardcore) --> Biggie Smalls
[ VERSE 3 ] I wanna be more Illmatic than Nas And have bitches breakin and 19in and maydayin like Das EFX, I set, then set off, then re-set Your whole sound set, your rhyme cipher or your blunt set Shit, why you stressin me, ock, what I do to you? Nothin gon' stop the rowdy type from puttin tools to you Baggy Guess wear his ass tear us by the frame Gettin ass to ass and smokin ganja by the basket Rowdy bastards, we better batter up It's time to leave more bodies splattered up Let's gather up, round up [Names] Grab a Phillie and a touch of the invincible wideout We gon' burn on three different crews, from three different hoods I don't know who lied and told you it was all good Not around here and that's word Leavin teeth on the corner and ass on the curb No doubt (No doubt)
(I fuck around and get hardcore) (hardcore) --> Biggie Smalls