(Notorious B.I.G.) n***a was motherf**in HYPED UP n***a just grabbed the n***a, snuffed the n***a and it was on from there The motherf**er there wasn't nuttin stoppin him (What what did the rest of his n***az do?) Man the motherf**ers was just ready for anything Them n***az was packin burners Them n***az was ready to fight whatever we had to do holmes n***az was on the real flipout holmes It was just comin out like a motherf**er The n***a amped be like COME ON, COME ON MOTHERfu*kER!! Chorus: repeat 8X Come on motherf**ers, come on (samples play over second half of chorus) "Man what you f** doin over here?" "Are you awake now?" "Hell yah I'm awake man; now tell me what the f** is goin on here" "Looks like the competition stopped by to pay us a little visit, and check us out" (Sadat X) Let's go deep into the phrase, beautiful sunrays off the baldhead, everything is real Biggie me put on this joint so I'ma be the big wheel Watch it Slim, hey Dad, place yo' bet on seven Peace to one-oh-six, one-oh-eight, one-to-the-hundred-eleventh Hey Biggie, I understand you're from Brooklyn with 22's in your shoes, yo keep the shank ready (Notorious B.I.G.) Uhhh well, why not blow up the spot with Sadat Release the BRAINSTORM, to make your motherf**in BRAIN WARM A strange form, somethin kind of lyrical Biggie the ba*tard, Sadat's kind of spiritual Well "In God We Trust", guns I bust Got that disgustin, sewer style dumpin and that uhh {*singin*} do you knowwwwww, where you're goin to Do you like the things that I bring? {*rappin*} Make an emcee wanna sing for a livin Take the beatdown we f**in givin, c'mon motherf**er Chorus (Sadat X) What? n***az want drama, puttin work on my block when I told y'all last week, that sh** was too hot Sellin pieces and treys, cuts my dimes Somebody gon' get paid, somebody block get sprayed Reaction is delayed as y'all run down the block Caught one in your chest, your breath come in spurts Hey yo Biggie tell these n***az I'ma hit em where it hurts The big city it don't spare no bodies Call me papichulo, to all the spanish mamis I'm about ten blunts down, drank three or fo' stouts Seen five fat a**es, pa**ed this b**h with gla**es Hey yo money that's yo' stock, yo Bigs pa** the glock I'ma tell him it can happen, don't play me with that rap sh** Life is real, so Biggie take the steel Chorus (Notorious B.I.G.) Uhh I got seven Mac-11's, about eight, .38's Nine 9's, ten Mac-10's, the sh**s never end You can't touch my riches Even if you had MC Hammer and them 357 b**hes Biggie Smalls, the millionaire, the mansion, the yacht The two weed spots, the two hot glocks HAH, that's how I got the weed spot I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the landspread Lil' Gotti got the shotty to your body So don't resist, or you might miss Christmas I tote guns, I make number runs I give emcees the runs drippin; when I throw my clip in the A.K., I slay from far away Everybody hit the D-E-C-K My slow flows remarkable Peace to Matteo Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniff the llello That's crazy blunts, mad L's My voice excels from the avenue to jailcells Oh my God I'm droppin sh** like a pigeon I hope you're listenin, smackin babies at they christening So you better grab your pistol cause if you sit still, I'm gonna make your f**in sh** spill And I'm talkin bout buckets, why did I have to do it? Sadat said f** it, you got a gun, n***a bust it Cause I got mo' shots to pop-ya Big Pop-pa, breakin you off somethin proper Signin off is the hardcore rap singer a.k.a. crack slinger, bring it anytime n***a Chorus