Dangerous MC's Lyrics
| Song | Dangerous MC's |
| Artist | The Notorious B.I.G. |
| Artist | Mark Curry |
| Artist | Snoop Dogg |
| Artist | Busta Rhymes |
| Album | Born Again |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Snoop Dogg /Mark Curry/Christopher Wallace/Trevor Smith | |
| Yeah, ninety-six, for my | |
| Nordstrom | |
| Ave niggaz | |
| My Fulton | |
| Street niggaz, dangerous | |
| MC'sDiamonds on my neck, chrome drop-top | |
| Chillin' on the scene, smoking l's of green | |
| Ooh-wee, you see, the ugliest | |
| Money-hungriest, | |
| Brooklyn Loch | |
| NessNine millimeter cock test, wan fi' test? | |
| And the winner is | |
| Y'all niggaz know the rules | |
| I blast on niggaz so my fist never bruise | |
| Land-still-cruise, | |
| Frank White paid his dues | |
| Ask who's the raw, bet they say | |
| Poppa very | |
| Look forward to me like commissary | |
| All of a sudden, now everybody | |
| Big Willie | |
| Done did it, come widdit, get yo' head splitted | |
| Or get your neck slitted, admit it, you overdid it | |
| Your shit it, just ain't got that loud, gold tooth shine like ta-dow | |
| Biggie Small's the illest and how, frays raise your eyebrow | |
| By now you figure, he talkin' 'bout that nigga | |
| But your weak-ass assumptions, lead led to dumpin' | |
| IV to pump-in, you're feeling something | |
| Catch my drift or catch my four-fifth lift | |
| At least six inches above project fences | |
| Turn meat to minces, jokes turn to flinches | |
| When I rain | |
| I drenches, cleared your park benches | |
| Missed you by pinches, your talk is senseless | |
| Actor needs chiropractor for cracked jaw | |
| Yes, I rocked your cheddar box | |
| Dangerous you're not | |
| I gets down | |
| Twist your body round and round, upside down | |
| C'mon, yo, throw your hands, c'mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c'mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c'mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We 'bout to get mo' rich, c'mon | |
| Let's blow the club, c'mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c'mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c'mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c'mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c'mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c'mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC'sMy nigga, this be the shit, c'mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC'sMy nigga, this be the shit, c'mon | |
| Make money, hand over fist | |
| The bo-vines roam where chicken hearts don't exist | |
| Settin' up shop, it's hands on in the hustle | |
| Fakes don't kill nuttin' but time and don't tussle | |
| The process of elimination, fresh rotation | |
| Come and go and they death be starvation | |
| In the heat of battle, it's no rest for the weary | |
| Snooze and you lose is the theory | |
| The fury of a patient man is wild beyond belief | |
| Be afraid, you don't want beef with us chief | |
| Your talk is cheap and the supply meets demand | |
| Everything you can imagine is real man | |
| And revenge be the dish | |
| I serve to cats cold | |
| Stay up on about ten folds, you know how it goes | |
| You know the streets and it's real as shit, c'mon | |
| Niggaz grab your dicks, c'mon, bitches rub your tits, c'mon | |
| Throw your hands, c'mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c'mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c'mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We 'bout to get mo' rich, c'mon | |
| Let's blow the club, c'mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c'mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c'mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c'mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c'mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c'mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC'sMy nigga, this be the shit, c'mon | |
| Oh no, big | |
| Snoop Dogg | |
| Slap you with my paw, all across your jaw | |
| Break, fool on these bitches while | |
| I'm breakin' the law | |
| You come up in my room, look bitch, you takin' it off, follow me | |
| I slip 'em, slide 'em, rip 'em, ride 'em, provide 'em | |
| With that | |
| West coast | |
| G shit, L. | |
| B.C. shitWe dips to this, make chips to this | |
| And buy brand new whips and shit | |
| I bet you didn't know that yo' bitch was suckin' dick | |
| Who you think she fuckin' with? | |
| Look hereMy | |
| East side lifestyle is way foul, move the crowd | |
| Point a pistol at you bitch niggas, bla dow | |
| How you like me now? | |
| You got stuck and fucked, | |
| Doggy style100 spokes | |
| Day-tonas, bendin' the corner | |
| All up in | |
| Crooklyn, bad bitches are lookin' | |
| C'mon, yo, throw your hands, c'mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c'mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c'mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We 'bout to get mo' rich, c'mon | |
| Let's blow the club, c'mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c'mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c'mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c'mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c'mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c'mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC'sMy nigga, this be the shit, c'mon | |
| So you lovin' us so much, this shit is bleedin' through you | |
| If I worked in a restaurant | |
| I'd shit in the food and feed it to you | |
| Most of my niggaz cuckoo, easy to gas to shoot you | |
| Even all of them | |
| Haitian niggaz won't believe this voodoo | |
| Can yo' pussy be chaka, don't let me speak in patois | |
| And kick you in your face like we playin' a game of soccer | |
| I love to cock the glock-a, stack up on loot and vodka | |
| And fuck your crew because all of y'all niggaz full of caca | |
| The way we doin' damage, tell me how the fuck you manage | |
| With my niggaz who marinate on foul thoughts and think savage | |
| Them niggaz'll throw you in a manhole | |
| And push they hand in yo' ass | |
| And pull yo' head right out yo' asshole | |
| Parkay nigga, we rugged all day, nigga | |
| You ready to fuck bitch? | |
| Fuck the foreplay, nigga | |
| This me for all consumers, my nigga fuck the rumors | |
| Three in the worst way of pure coke for all you drug abusers | |
| Throw your hands, c'mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c'mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c'mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We 'bout to get mo' rich, c'mon | |
| Let's blow the club, c'mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c'mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c'mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c'mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c'mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c'mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC'sMy nigga, this be the shit, c'mon | |
| Yo, throw your hands, c'mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c'mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c'mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We 'bout to get mo' rich, c'mon | |
| Let's blow the club, c'mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c'mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c'mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c'mon |
| zuo qu : Snoop Dogg Mark Curry Christopher Wallace Trevor Smith | |
| Yeah, ninetysix, for my | |
| Nordstrom | |
| Ave niggaz | |
| My Fulton | |
| Street niggaz, dangerous | |
| MC' sDiamonds on my neck, chrome droptop | |
| Chillin' on the scene, smoking l' s of green | |
| Oohwee, you see, the ugliest | |
| Moneyhungriest, | |
| Brooklyn Loch | |
| NessNine millimeter cock test, wan fi' test? | |
| And the winner is | |
| Y' all niggaz know the rules | |
| I blast on niggaz so my fist never bruise | |
| Landstillcruise, | |
| Frank White paid his dues | |
| Ask who' s the raw, bet they say | |
| Poppa very | |
| Look forward to me like commissary | |
| All of a sudden, now everybody | |
| Big Willie | |
| Done did it, come widdit, get yo' head splitted | |
| Or get your neck slitted, admit it, you overdid it | |
| Your shit it, just ain' t got that loud, gold tooth shine like tadow | |
| Biggie Small' s the illest and how, frays raise your eyebrow | |
| By now you figure, he talkin' ' bout that nigga | |
| But your weakass assumptions, lead led to dumpin' | |
| IV to pumpin, you' re feeling something | |
| Catch my drift or catch my fourfifth lift | |
| At least six inches above project fences | |
| Turn meat to minces, jokes turn to flinches | |
| When I rain | |
| I drenches, cleared your park benches | |
| Missed you by pinches, your talk is senseless | |
| Actor needs chiropractor for cracked jaw | |
| Yes, I rocked your cheddar box | |
| Dangerous you' re not | |
| I gets down | |
| Twist your body round and round, upside down | |
| C' mon, yo, throw your hands, c' mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c' mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c' mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We ' bout to get mo' rich, c' mon | |
| Let' s blow the club, c' mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c' mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c' mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c' mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c' mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c' mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC' sMy nigga, this be the shit, c' mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC' sMy nigga, this be the shit, c' mon | |
| Make money, hand over fist | |
| The bovines roam where chicken hearts don' t exist | |
| Settin' up shop, it' s hands on in the hustle | |
| Fakes don' t kill nuttin' but time and don' t tussle | |
| The process of elimination, fresh rotation | |
| Come and go and they death be starvation | |
| In the heat of battle, it' s no rest for the weary | |
| Snooze and you lose is the theory | |
| The fury of a patient man is wild beyond belief | |
| Be afraid, you don' t want beef with us chief | |
| Your talk is cheap and the supply meets demand | |
| Everything you can imagine is real man | |
| And revenge be the dish | |
| I serve to cats cold | |
| Stay up on about ten folds, you know how it goes | |
| You know the streets and it' s real as shit, c' mon | |
| Niggaz grab your dicks, c' mon, bitches rub your tits, c' mon | |
| Throw your hands, c' mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c' mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c' mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We ' bout to get mo' rich, c' mon | |
| Let' s blow the club, c' mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c' mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c' mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c' mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c' mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c' mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC' sMy nigga, this be the shit, c' mon | |
| Oh no, big | |
| Snoop Dogg | |
| Slap you with my paw, all across your jaw | |
| Break, fool on these bitches while | |
| I' m breakin' the law | |
| You come up in my room, look bitch, you takin' it off, follow me | |
| I slip ' em, slide ' em, rip ' em, ride ' em, provide ' em | |
| With that | |
| West coast | |
| G shit, L. | |
| B. C. shitWe dips to this, make chips to this | |
| And buy brand new whips and shit | |
| I bet you didn' t know that yo' bitch was suckin' dick | |
| Who you think she fuckin' with? | |
| Look hereMy | |
| East side lifestyle is way foul, move the crowd | |
| Point a pistol at you bitch niggas, bla dow | |
| How you like me now? | |
| You got stuck and fucked, | |
| Doggy style100 spokes | |
| Daytonas, bendin' the corner | |
| All up in | |
| Crooklyn, bad bitches are lookin' | |
| C' mon, yo, throw your hands, c' mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c' mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c' mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We ' bout to get mo' rich, c' mon | |
| Let' s blow the club, c' mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c' mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c' mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c' mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c' mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c' mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC' sMy nigga, this be the shit, c' mon | |
| So you lovin' us so much, this shit is bleedin' through you | |
| If I worked in a restaurant | |
| I' d shit in the food and feed it to you | |
| Most of my niggaz cuckoo, easy to gas to shoot you | |
| Even all of them | |
| Haitian niggaz won' t believe this voodoo | |
| Can yo' pussy be chaka, don' t let me speak in patois | |
| And kick you in your face like we playin' a game of soccer | |
| I love to cock the glocka, stack up on loot and vodka | |
| And fuck your crew because all of y' all niggaz full of caca | |
| The way we doin' damage, tell me how the fuck you manage | |
| With my niggaz who marinate on foul thoughts and think savage | |
| Them niggaz' ll throw you in a manhole | |
| And push they hand in yo' ass | |
| And pull yo' head right out yo' asshole | |
| Parkay nigga, we rugged all day, nigga | |
| You ready to fuck bitch? | |
| Fuck the foreplay, nigga | |
| This me for all consumers, my nigga fuck the rumors | |
| Three in the worst way of pure coke for all you drug abusers | |
| Throw your hands, c' mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c' mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c' mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We ' bout to get mo' rich, c' mon | |
| Let' s blow the club, c' mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c' mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c' mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c' mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c' mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c' mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC' sMy nigga, this be the shit, c' mon | |
| Yo, throw your hands, c' mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c' mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c' mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We ' bout to get mo' rich, c' mon | |
| Let' s blow the club, c' mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c' mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c' mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c' mon |
| zuò qǔ : Snoop Dogg Mark Curry Christopher Wallace Trevor Smith | |
| Yeah, ninetysix, for my | |
| Nordstrom | |
| Ave niggaz | |
| My Fulton | |
| Street niggaz, dangerous | |
| MC' sDiamonds on my neck, chrome droptop | |
| Chillin' on the scene, smoking l' s of green | |
| Oohwee, you see, the ugliest | |
| Moneyhungriest, | |
| Brooklyn Loch | |
| NessNine millimeter cock test, wan fi' test? | |
| And the winner is | |
| Y' all niggaz know the rules | |
| I blast on niggaz so my fist never bruise | |
| Landstillcruise, | |
| Frank White paid his dues | |
| Ask who' s the raw, bet they say | |
| Poppa very | |
| Look forward to me like commissary | |
| All of a sudden, now everybody | |
| Big Willie | |
| Done did it, come widdit, get yo' head splitted | |
| Or get your neck slitted, admit it, you overdid it | |
| Your shit it, just ain' t got that loud, gold tooth shine like tadow | |
| Biggie Small' s the illest and how, frays raise your eyebrow | |
| By now you figure, he talkin' ' bout that nigga | |
| But your weakass assumptions, lead led to dumpin' | |
| IV to pumpin, you' re feeling something | |
| Catch my drift or catch my fourfifth lift | |
| At least six inches above project fences | |
| Turn meat to minces, jokes turn to flinches | |
| When I rain | |
| I drenches, cleared your park benches | |
| Missed you by pinches, your talk is senseless | |
| Actor needs chiropractor for cracked jaw | |
| Yes, I rocked your cheddar box | |
| Dangerous you' re not | |
| I gets down | |
| Twist your body round and round, upside down | |
| C' mon, yo, throw your hands, c' mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c' mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c' mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We ' bout to get mo' rich, c' mon | |
| Let' s blow the club, c' mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c' mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c' mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c' mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c' mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c' mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC' sMy nigga, this be the shit, c' mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC' sMy nigga, this be the shit, c' mon | |
| Make money, hand over fist | |
| The bovines roam where chicken hearts don' t exist | |
| Settin' up shop, it' s hands on in the hustle | |
| Fakes don' t kill nuttin' but time and don' t tussle | |
| The process of elimination, fresh rotation | |
| Come and go and they death be starvation | |
| In the heat of battle, it' s no rest for the weary | |
| Snooze and you lose is the theory | |
| The fury of a patient man is wild beyond belief | |
| Be afraid, you don' t want beef with us chief | |
| Your talk is cheap and the supply meets demand | |
| Everything you can imagine is real man | |
| And revenge be the dish | |
| I serve to cats cold | |
| Stay up on about ten folds, you know how it goes | |
| You know the streets and it' s real as shit, c' mon | |
| Niggaz grab your dicks, c' mon, bitches rub your tits, c' mon | |
| Throw your hands, c' mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c' mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c' mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We ' bout to get mo' rich, c' mon | |
| Let' s blow the club, c' mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c' mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c' mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c' mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c' mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c' mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC' sMy nigga, this be the shit, c' mon | |
| Oh no, big | |
| Snoop Dogg | |
| Slap you with my paw, all across your jaw | |
| Break, fool on these bitches while | |
| I' m breakin' the law | |
| You come up in my room, look bitch, you takin' it off, follow me | |
| I slip ' em, slide ' em, rip ' em, ride ' em, provide ' em | |
| With that | |
| West coast | |
| G shit, L. | |
| B. C. shitWe dips to this, make chips to this | |
| And buy brand new whips and shit | |
| I bet you didn' t know that yo' bitch was suckin' dick | |
| Who you think she fuckin' with? | |
| Look hereMy | |
| East side lifestyle is way foul, move the crowd | |
| Point a pistol at you bitch niggas, bla dow | |
| How you like me now? | |
| You got stuck and fucked, | |
| Doggy style100 spokes | |
| Daytonas, bendin' the corner | |
| All up in | |
| Crooklyn, bad bitches are lookin' | |
| C' mon, yo, throw your hands, c' mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c' mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c' mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We ' bout to get mo' rich, c' mon | |
| Let' s blow the club, c' mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c' mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c' mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c' mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c' mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c' mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC' sMy nigga, this be the shit, c' mon | |
| So you lovin' us so much, this shit is bleedin' through you | |
| If I worked in a restaurant | |
| I' d shit in the food and feed it to you | |
| Most of my niggaz cuckoo, easy to gas to shoot you | |
| Even all of them | |
| Haitian niggaz won' t believe this voodoo | |
| Can yo' pussy be chaka, don' t let me speak in patois | |
| And kick you in your face like we playin' a game of soccer | |
| I love to cock the glocka, stack up on loot and vodka | |
| And fuck your crew because all of y' all niggaz full of caca | |
| The way we doin' damage, tell me how the fuck you manage | |
| With my niggaz who marinate on foul thoughts and think savage | |
| Them niggaz' ll throw you in a manhole | |
| And push they hand in yo' ass | |
| And pull yo' head right out yo' asshole | |
| Parkay nigga, we rugged all day, nigga | |
| You ready to fuck bitch? | |
| Fuck the foreplay, nigga | |
| This me for all consumers, my nigga fuck the rumors | |
| Three in the worst way of pure coke for all you drug abusers | |
| Throw your hands, c' mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c' mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c' mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We ' bout to get mo' rich, c' mon | |
| Let' s blow the club, c' mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c' mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c' mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c' mon | |
| Bounce in your whips, c' mon | |
| Bitch, lick yo' lips, c' mon | |
| Dangerous | |
| MC' sMy nigga, this be the shit, c' mon | |
| Yo, throw your hands, c' mon | |
| Bitch, grab your tits, c' mon | |
| Let me know you in the spot | |
| Bump your fists, c' mon | |
| Thugs tote yo' shit | |
| We ' bout to get mo' rich, c' mon | |
| Let' s blow the club, c' mon | |
| Fuck the place up, c' mon | |
| Shake yo' nasty ass | |
| And make it swing all around, c' mon | |
| Yo, make this money | |
| Throw yo' loot on the ground, c' mon |
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