[Intro:]

Yeah. Mother$#&@ers better know... huh, huh. Lock your windows,

close your doors. Biggie Smalls, huh...yeah.

[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
I'm ready to get this paper, G, you with me?


Mother$#&@ing right, my pocket's looking kind of tight
and I'm stressed, yo Biggie let me get the vest


No need for that, just grab the $#&@ing gat
The first pocket that's fat the Tec is to his back
Word is bond, I'm a smoke him yo don't fake no moves (what?)

Treat it like boxing: stick and move, stick and move

^!$$%, you ain't got to explain %#@!

I've been robbing mother$#&@ers since the slave ships
with the same clip and the same four-five
Two point-blank, a mother$#&@er's sure to die

That's my word, ^!$$% even try to bogart
have his mother singing "It's so hard..."


Yes, love love you're $#&@ing attitude
because the ^!$$% play #~!!@ that's the ^!$$% that's getting screwed
and bruised up from the pistol whipping

webs on the neck from the necklace stripping
Then I'm dipping up the block and I'm robbing (*##$es too
up the herring bones and bamboos

I wouldn't give $#&@ if you're pregnant
Give me the baby rings and a #1 MOM pendant


I'm slamming ^!$$%z like Shaquille, %#@! is real
When it's time to eat a meal I rob and steal
'cos Mom Duke ain't giving me %#@!

so for the bread and butter I leave ^!$$%z in the gutter
Huh, word to mother, I'm dangerous
Crazier than a bag of $#&@ing Angel Dust

When I bust my gat mother$#&@ers take dirt naps
I'm all that and a dime sack, where the payback?


[Verse Two:]

Big up, big up, it's a stick up, stick up

and I'm shooting ^!$$%z quick if you hiccup
Don't let me fill my clip up in your back and head piece
The opposite of peace sending Mom Duke a wreath

You're talking to the robbery expert
Stepping to your wake with your blood on my shirt
Don't 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?
^!$$%, pass that before you get your grave dug
from the main thug, .357 slug

And my ^!$$% Biggie got an itchy one grip

One in the chamber, 32 in the clip

Mother$#&@ers better strip, yeah ^!$$% peel
before you find out how blue steel feel


from the Beretta, putting all the holes in your sweater
The money getter mother$#&@ers don't have better
Rolex watches and colourful Swatches

I'm digging in pockets, mother$#&@ers can't stop it

Man, ^!$$%z come through I'm taking high school rings too

(*##$es get stripped down for they earrings and bangles
and when I rock her and drop her I'm taking her door knockers
And if she's resistant "baka! baka! baka!"


So go get your man (*##$ he can get robbed too

Tell him Biggie took it, what the $#&@ he gonna do?


I hope apologetic or I'm a have to set it
and if I said it the @@#!sucker won't forget it

[Verse Three:]


Man, listen all this walking is hurting my feet
But money looks sweet (where at?) in the Isuzu jeep

Man, I throw him in the Beem, you grab the $#&@ing C.R.E.A.M
and if he start to scream "bam! bam!", have a nice dream

Hold up, he got a $#&@ing (*##$ in the car
Fur coats and diamonds, she thinks she a superstar

Ooh Biggie, let me jack her, I kick her in the back
Hit her with the gat...


Yo chill, Shorty, let me do that...
Just get the $#&@ing car keys and cruise up the block
The (*##$ act shocked, getting shot on the spot
(Oh %#@!! The cops!) Be cool, fool
They ain't gonna roll up, all they want is $#&@ing doughnuts

(So why the $#&@ he keep looking?) I guess to get his life tooken
I just came home, ain't trying to see Central Booking
Oh %#@!, now he looking in my face
You better haul $$# 'cos I ain't with no $#&@ing chase
So lace up your boots, 'cos I'm about to shoot
A true mother$#&@er going out for the loot