The Notorious B.I.G. & Frank Sinatra - Come On - My Way Of Life | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• The Notorious B.I.G. & Frank Sinatra
• Come On - My Way Of Life

Well, why not blow up the spot with Sadat?
Release the brainstorm, to make your motherfucking brain warm
A strange form, something kind of lyrical
Biggie the bastard, Sadat's kind of spiritual
Well, in God we trust, guns I bust
Got that disgusting, sewer-style dumping
And, uh, do you know where you're going to?
Do you like the things that I bring?
Make an emcee wanna sing for a living
Take the beatdown we fucking giving
C'mon, motherfucker!

I got seven Mac-11's, about eight .38's
Nine 9's, ten Mac-10's the shits never end
You can't touch my riches
Even if you had MC Hammer and them 357 bitches
Biggie Smalls, the millionaire, the mansion, the yacht
The two weed spots, the two hot Glocks
Huh, that's how I got the weed spot
I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the lamb spread
Lil' Gotti got the shotty to your body
So don't resist, or you might miss Christmas
I tote guns, I make number runs
I give emcees the runs dripping
When I throw my clip in the AK, I slay from far away
Everybody hit the D-E-C-K
My slow flows remarkable
Peace to Matteo
Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniff the yayo
That's crazy blunts, mad L's
My voice excels from the avenue to jail cells
Oh my God I'm dropping shit like a pigeon
I hope you're listening, smacking babies at they christening
So you better grab your pistol
Cause if you sit still, I'm gonna make your fucking shit spill
And I'm talking 'bout buckets, why did I have to do it?
Sadat said fuck it, you got a gun, nigga bust it
Cause I got mo' shots to pop ya
Big Poppa, breaking you off something proper
Signing off is the hardcore rap singer
AKA crack slinger, bring it any time nigga

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