The Notorious B.I.G. - Dead Wrong (Original) | Текст песни

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• The Notorious B.I.G.
• Dead Wrong (Original)

(repeat 2X)
The weak or the strong
Who got it goin on
You're Dead Wrong

(Verse One)

Relax and take note
While I take totes of the marijuana smoke
Throw you in choke
Gun smoke gun smoke
Biggie Smalls for mayor
The rap slayer the hooker layer
Muthafucka say your prayers
(Hail Mary full of grace)
Smack the bitch in her face
Take her Gucci bag and the North Face off her back
Jab her if she act
Funny wit the money
Oh you got me mistakin honey
I don't wanna rap ya
I just want the paper
The Visa capisha
I'm out like the vapors
Who's the one the call mister macho
The head honcho
Swift fist like camacho
I got so
Much style I should be down wit the stylistics
Make up to break up
Niggas need to wake up
Smell the indonesia beat you to a ceasure
Then fuck your mom hit them skins to amnesia
She don't remember shit just the two hits
Her hittin the floor and me hittin the clit
Suckin on her tit
Had the hooker beggin for the dick
And your moms ain't ugly love my dick got rock quick
I guess I was a combination of House of Pain and Bobby Brown
I was humpin around and jumpin around
Jacked her then I asked her who's the man
She said B-I-G then I bust in her E-Y-E

Yo Big your dead wrong
(I don't care what nobody say)
Your dead wrong
(I don't care what nobody say)
Your dead wrong
(I don't care what nobody say)
We gotta do things right

(X2)
The weak or the strong
Who got it goin on
You're dead wrong

(Verse Two)

The pain I inflict
Like a convict
????????????????? vigor
Jump in my Acura Vigor after I stick ya
Rip ya like razor straight up henny wit no chasa
Watch me erase ya misplace ya
Put ya in the back wit the derelects
Yeah I pop plenty shit
Chump i'm makin hits
No time for that crack rockin shit
Took you to another level
Now i'm gettin crazy pates
Gettin paid from the devil
Another amatuer tryna damage the pedigree
Of the B-I-G-G-I-E you know its me
Hoes I thought you knew i'm smooth as a baby's ass
Smooth as Teddy Pentergras
Smoke the grass get in ya ass
The Brooklyn born teflon don
Reckin shop
Gettin props provin nobody drops
Words as potent as the blunt smokin Bed Stuy bandit
And niggas just can't understand it
I bust a cap for my brothers in Nappmack,Comstock,and Clinton
You know my shit is hittin
Yeah ya'll the fly nigga Biggie Smalls
Kickin flavor make a nigga dig up in they draws
For the burn that catch your body
I got styles like karate
Jujitsu when I hit you
Then I split you like a cantaloupe
Hope you gotta rope to hang yourself
I rhyme for self
From Brooklyn where else
Back like a Lexus coop i'll rip your troup
Not even Lois Lane could get the scoop
What you think i'm stupid muthafucka
My crew is mad deep
I hope you niggas sleep

(Chorus)

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