wun two - fat.ep.final | Текст песни

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• wun two
• fat.ep.final

To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
Allow me to lace these lyrical douches in your bushes
Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies?
The back of the club sipping Moët is where you'll find me
The back of the club, macking hoes, my crew's behind me
Mad question asking, blunt passing, music blasting
But I just can't quit
Because one of these honies Biggie gots to creep with
Sleep with, keep the ep a secret, why not?
Why blow up my spot cause we both got hot?
Now check it: I got more mack than Craig and in the bed
Believe me sweetie, I got enough to feed the needy
No need to be greedy, I got mad friends with Benzes
C-notes by the layers, true fucking players
Jump in the Rover and come over, tell your friends jump in the GS3
I got the chronic by the tree

It was all a dream
I used to read Word Up magazine
Salt 'n' Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine
Hangin pictures on my wall
Every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl
I let my tape rock 'til my tape popped
Smoking weed and Bambu, sipping on Private Stock
Way back, when I had the red and black lumberjack
With the hat to match
Remember Rappin Duke? duh-ha, duh-ha
You never thought that hip hop would take it this far
Now I'm in the limelight cause I rhyme tight
Time to get paid, blow up like the World Trade
Born sinner, the opposite of a winner
Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner
Peace to Ron G, Brucey B, Kid Capri
Funkmaster Flex, Lovebug Starski (wassup)
I'm blowing up like you thought I would
Call the crib, same number same hood (that's right)
It's all good (it's all good)
And if you don't know, now you know, nigga

Relax and take notes while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke
Throw you in a choke, gun smoke, gun smoke
Biggie Smalls for mayor, the rap slayer
The hooker layer, motherfucker say your prayers
"Hail Mary, full of grace"
Smack the bitch in the face, take her Gucci bag
And the North Face off her back, jab her if she act
Funny with the money, oh you got me mistaken, honey
I don't wanna rape ya, I just want the paper
The Visa, kapeesha? I'm out like The Vapors
Who's the one you call Mr. Macho
The head honcho, swift fist like Camacho
I got so much style I should be down with the Stylistics
"Make up to break up" Niggas need to wake up
Smell the Indonesia, beat you to a seizure
Then fuck your moms, hit the skins to amnesia
She don't remember shit, just the two hits
Her hitting the floor and me hitting the clit
Sucking on the tits, had the hooker begging 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 humping around and jumping 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, you're dead wrong)

To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
Allow me to lace these lyrical douches in your bushes
Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies?
The back of the club sipping Moët is where you'll find me
The back of the club, macking hoes, my crew's behind me
Mad question asking, blunt passing, music blasting
But I just can't quit
Cause one of these honies Biggie gots to creep with
Sleep with, keep the ep a secret, why not?
Why blow up my spot cause we both got hot?
Now check it: I got more mack than Craig and in the bed
Believe me sweetie, I got enough to feed the needy
No need to be greedy, I got mad friends with Benzes
C-notes by the layers, true fucking players
Jump in the Rover and come over, tell your friends jump in the GS3
I got the chronic by the tree
Straight up honey really I'm asking
Most of these niggas think they be macking, but they be acting
Who they attracting with that line, "

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