Sucka-ass
That's why I fucked yo' bitch
You fat motherfucka
West Side, Bad Boy killas
You know who the realest is
Niggas we bring it too
First off fuck your bitch and the clique you claim
Westside when we ride come equipped with game
You claim to be a player but I fucked your wife
We bust on Bad Boys niggas fucked for life
Plus Puffy tryna see me weak hearts I rip
Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia is some mark-ass bitches
We keep on comin' while we runnin' for your jewels
Steady gunnin' keep on bustin' at them fools, you know the rules
Lil' Caesar go ask your homie how I'll leave ya
Cut your young-ass up leave you in pieces
Now be deceased
Lil' Kim don't fuck around with real G's
Quick to snatch yo' ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace
I'll let them niggas know it's on for life
Don't let the Westside ride tonight ah, ah
Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed
Fuck with me and get yo' caps peeled you know
See, grab your Glocks when you see Tupac
Call the cops when you see Tupac, huh
Who shot me but you punks didn't finish
Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga I hit 'em up
Check this out you motherfuckers know what time it is
I don't even know why I'm on this track
Y'all niggas ain't even on my level
I'ma let my lil' homies ride on you bitch-made ass Bad Boy bitches feel it
Get out the way yo
Get out the way yo
Biggie Smalls just got dropped
Little Mu' pass the Mac and let me hit him in his back
Frank White needs to get spanked right for settin' traps
Little accident murderer and I ain't never heard of ya
Poisonous gats attack when I'm servin' ya
Spank ya shank ya whole style when I gank
Guard your rank 'cos I'ma slam your ass in the paint
Puffy weaker than the fuckin' block I'm runnin' through nigga
And I'm smokin' Junior Mafia in front of you nigga
With the ready power tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer
Your clout pettysour
I push packages every hour
I hit 'em up
Grab your Glocks when you see Tupac
Call the cops when you see Tupac, huh
Who shot me but you punks didn't finish
Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga we hit 'em up
Peep how we do it keep it real as penitentiary steel
This ain't no freestyle battle
All you niggas gettin' killed with your mouths open
Tryna come up off of me you in the clouds hopin'
Smokin' dope it's like a sherm high
Niggas think they learned to fly
But they burn motherfucker you deserve to die
Talkin' 'bout you gettin' money but it's funny to me
All you niggas livin' bummy while you fuckin' with me
I'm a self-made millionaire
Thug livin' out of prison pistols in the air ah, ah
Biggie remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch
And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house
Now it's all about Versace you copied my style
Five shots couldn't drop me
I took it and smiled
Now I'm back to set the record straight
With my AK I'm still the thug that you love to hate
Motherfucker
I'm from N-E-W Jers' where plenty of murders occurs
No points or commas we bring the drama to all you herbs
Now go check the scenario
Lil' Cease
I'll bring you fake G's to your knees coppin' pleas in de Janeiro
Little Kim is you coked up or doped up
Get your little Junior
Whopper click smoked up
What the fuck is you stupid
I take money crash and mash through Brooklyn
With my click lootin', shootin' and pollutin' your block
With a fifteen-shot cocked Glock to your knot
Outlaw Mafia clique movin' up another notch
And your pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped
All your fake-ass East Coast props brainstormed and locked
You's a beat biter a Pac style taker
I'll tell you to your face you ain't shit but a faker
Softer than Alizé with a chaser
'Bout to get murdered for the paper E.D.I. Mean approach the scene of the caper
Like a loc with Little Ceas' in a choke
Gun totin' smoke
We ain't no motherfuckin' joke
Thug Life niggas better be knowin'
We approachin' in the wide open gun smokin'
No need for hopin' it's a battle lost
I got 'em crossed as soon as the funk is boppin' off
Nigga I hit 'em up
Now you tell me who won
I see them, they run
They don't wanna see us
Whole Junior Mafia clique dressin' up tryna be us
How the fuck they gonna be the mob
When we always on our job
We millionaires
Killin' ain't fair but somebody gotta do it
Oh yeah Mobb Deep you wanna fuck with us
You little young-ass motherfuckers
Don't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or somethin'
You're fuckin' with me nigga
You fuck around and have a seizure or a heart attack
You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up
This is how we do it on our side
Any of you niggas from New York that wanna bring it, bring it
But we ain't singin' we bringin' drama
Fuck you and yo' motherfuckin' mama
We gon' kill all you motherfuckers
Now when I came out I told you it was about Biggie
Then everybody had to open their mouth with a motherfuckin' opinion
Well this is how we gonna do this
Fuck Mobb Deep, Fuck Biggie
Fuck Bad Boy as a staff record label and as a motherfuckin' crew
And if you wanna be down with Bad Boy
Then fuck you too
Chino XL, fuck you too
All you motherfuckers fuck you too
All of y'all motherfuckers fuck you die slow
Motherfucker my fourty-four make sho' all y'all kids don't grow
You motherfuckers can't be us or see us
We motherfuckin'
Thug Life ridas
Westside 'till we die
Out here in California nigga we warned ya
We'll bomb on you motherfuckers
We do our job
You think you mob Nigga we the motherfuckin' mob
Ain't nothin' but killas
And the real niggas all you motherfuckers feel us
Our shit goes triple and four-quadruple
You niggas laugh 'cos our staff got guns under they motherfuckas belts
You know how it is when we drop records they felt
You niggas can't feel it we the realest
Fuck 'em
We Bad Boy killas
$ 2,99
Met achtergrondkoor (met of zonder achtergrondzang in de KFN-versie) 
Heeft hetzelfde tempo als het originele: 95.2 BPM
Op dezelfde toonhoogte als het origineel: Am
De song begint a capella
Tijdsduur: 05:12 - Preview aan:
01:23 
Beveiligde betaling
Taal / munteenheid wijzigen
Hoeveel 2 sterren wil je geven aan deze titel?