Verse two: Big up, big up, its a stick up, stick up And Im shooting n***** quick if you hiccup Dont let me fill my clip up in your back and head piece The opposite of peace sending mom duke a wreath Youre talking to the robbery expert Stepping to your wake with your blood on my shirt Dont be a jerk and get smoked over being resistant cos when I lick shots the s**** is persistent Huh, goodness gracious the papers Where the cash at? where the stash at? n****, pass that before you get your grave dug From the main thug. Yes, love love youre f****** attitude Because the n**** play p**** thats the n**** thats getting screwed And bruised up from the pistol whipping Webs on the neck from the necklace stripping Then Im dipping up the block and Im robbing b****** too Up the herring bones and bamboos I wouldnt give f*** if youre pregnant Give me the baby rings and a #1 mom pendant Im slamming n***** like shaquille, s*** is real When its time to eat a meal I rob and steal cos mom duke aint giving me s*** So for the bread and b***er I leave n***** in the gutter Huh, word to mother, Im dangerous Crazier than a bag of f****** angel dust When I bust my gat m************ take dirt naps Im all that and a dime sack, where the paper at? Verse one: My man inf left a tec and a nine at my crib Turned himself in, he had to do a bid A one-to-three, he be home the end of 93 Im ready to get this paper, g, you with me? m************ right, my pockets looking kind of tight And Im stressed, yo biggie let me get the vest No need for that, just grab the f****** gat The first pocket thats fat the tec is to his back Word is bond, Im a smoke him yo dont fake no moves (what? ) Treat it like boxing: stick and move, stick and move n****, you aint got to explain s*** Ive been robbin m************ since the slave ships With the same clip and the same four-five Two point-blank, a m************ sure to die Thats my word, n**** even try to bogart Have his mother singing its so hard.

Laced up pistol grip biggie lyrics