LYRICS
- Yo, rakd fel "azt".
- Big, mit mûvelsz?
Néha felül kell emelkedj,
de néha rá kell taposnod.
- Ne énekeld azt..
- Muszáj.
Yo, na figyeljetek. Ez a mûfaj a legjobb
barátotokat az ellenségeitekké változtatja.
Pac figyelmeztetett,
de nem hittem neki.
Ezt a dalt pár hónapja írtam.
Valószínûleg nem hisz nekem.
De lehet, hogy senki sem.
De õszintén, le se szarom.
------------
Who shot ya?!
Separate the weak
from the obsolete
Hard to creep
these Brooklyn streets
It's on, nigga
Fuck all that bickering beef
I can hear sweat
trickling down your cheek
Your heart beat sounds
like Sasquatch feet
Thundering
shaking the concrete
Finish this stuff
when I foil the plot
Neighbors called the cops
when they heard mad shots
Rolling in the drop
three in the corner
Slaughter, electrical tape
around your daughter
Old school, new school
need to learn, though
I burn, baby, burn
like "Disco Inferno"
Burn slow like blunts
with yayo
Peel more skins
than idaho potato
Niggas know
the lyrical molesting is taking place
Fucking with B.I.G.
It ain't safe
I make your skin chafe
Rough to the masses
Bumps and bruises
Cuffs and Land Cruisers
Big Poppa smash fools
hash fools
Niggas mad because they know that cash rules
everything around me
Two Glock nines
Any motherfucker whispering about mines
And I'm Crooklyn's finest
You rewind this
Bad Boy's behind this
...
As we proceed
to give you what you need
East Coast
Bad Boy
