A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

NOTORIOUS B.I.G. lyrics : "Machine Gun Funk"

[Verse One:]

So you wanna be hardcore

With your hat to the back, talkin bout the gats in your raps
But I can't feel that hardcore appeal
that you're screamin, baby I'm dreamin

This ain't Christopher Williams, still some
MC's got to feel one, caps I got to peel some
To let ^!$$%z know... that if you $#&@ with Big-and-Heavy

I get up in that $$# like a wedgie
Says who? Says me, the lyrical
^!$$%z sayin, "Biggie off the street, it's a miracle"

Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me
Just for ^!$$%z actin shifty
Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat'll kill you quicker

Especially when I'm drunk off the liquor
Smokin funk by the boxes, packin glocks is
natural to eat you ^!$$%z like chocolates

The funk baby

[Chorus (repeats 8X)]


"I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk" (LOTUG, Chief Rocka)


[Verse Two:]

All I want is (*##$es, big booty (*##$es

Used to sell crack, so I could stack my riches
Now I pack gats, to stop all the snitches
from stayin in my business, what is this? Relentless

approach, to know if I'm broke or not
Just cause I joke and smoke a lot
Don't mean I don't tote the glock

Sixteen shots for my ^!$$%z in the pen
Until we mother$#&@in meet again
Huh, I'm doin rhymes now, $#&@ the crimes now

Come on the ave, I'm real hard to find now
Cause I'm knee deep in the beats
In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the Mac-10 by the seats

For the jackers, the jealous $$# crackers in the (car sirens)
I'll make you prove that it's bulletproof
Hold ya head, cause when you hit the bricks

I got gin, mad blunts, and (*##$es suckin dick
The funk baby


[Repeat chorus]

[Verse Three:]


So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side
How I smoked funk, smacked (*##$es on the backside

Bed-Stuy, the place where my head rests
Fifty shot clip if a ^!$$% wan' test
The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya

High as a mother$#&@in helicopter
That's why I pack a nina, $#&@ a misdeameanor
Beatin mother$#&@ers like Ike beat Tina

(What's Love, Got to Do)
when I'm rippin all through your whole crew
Strapped like bamboo, but I don't sling guns

I got bags of funk, and it's sellin by the tons
^!$$%z wanna know, how I live the mack life
Making money smoking mics like crack pipes

It's type simple and plain to maintain
I add a little funk to the brain
The funk baby


[Repeat chorus]

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