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Verse One: |
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So you wanna be hardcore |
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With your hat to the back, talkin bout the gats in your raps |
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But I can't feel that hardcore appeal |
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that you're screamin, baby I'm dreamin |
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This ain't Christopher Williams, still some |
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MC's got to feel one, caps I got to peel some |
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To let niggaz know... that if you fuck with Big-and-Heavy |
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I get up in that ass like a wedgie |
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Says who? Says me, the lyrical |
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Niggaz sayin, "Biggie off the street, it's a miracle" |
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Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me |
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Just for niggaz actin shifty |
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Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat'll kill you quicker |
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Especially when I'm drunk off the liquor |
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Smokin funk by the boxes, packin glocks is |
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natural to eat you niggaz like chocolates |
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The funk baby |
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Chorus (repeats 8X) |
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"I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk" (LOTUG, Chief Rocka) |
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Verse Two: |
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All I want is bitches, big booty bitches |
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Used to sell crack, so I could stack my riches |
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Now I pack gats, to stop all the snitches |
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from stayin in my business, what is this? Relentless |
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approach, to know if I'm broke or not |
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Just cause I joke and smoke a lot |
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Don't mean I don't tote the glock |
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Sixteen shots for my niggaz in the pen |
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Until we motherfuckin meet again |
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Huh, I'm doin rhymes now, fuck the crimes now |
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Come on the ave, I'm real hard to find now |
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Cause I'm knee deep in the beats |
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In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the Mac-10 by the seats |
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For the jackers, the jealous ass crackers in the (car sirens) |
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I'll make you prove that it's bulletproof |
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Hold ya head, cause when you hit the bricks |
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I got gin, mad blunts, and bitches suckin dick |
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The funk baby |
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Repeat chorus |
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Verse Three: |
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So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side |
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How I smoked funk, smacked bitches on the backside |
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Bed-Stuy, the place where my head rests |
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Fifty shot clip if a nigga wan' test |
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The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya |
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High as a motherfuckin helicopter |
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That's why I pack a nina, fuck a misdeameanor |
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Beatin motherfuckers like Ike beat Tina |
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(What's Love, Got to Do) |
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when I'm rippin all through your whole crew |
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Strapped like bamboo, but I don't sling guns |
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I got bags of funk, and it's sellin by the tons |
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Niggaz wanna know, how I live the mack life |
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Making money smoking mics like crack pipes |
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It's type simple and plain to maintain |
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I add a little funk to the brain |
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Machine Gun Funk baby! |
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Repeat chorus |