Lyrics
You wanna set it son?
I mean I could
I could, I could
Yo, ayo
Instantly we blaze trees
Before these hoes swing low on Lil' Cease
The friskiest MC
Quick to mix BC and Pepsi
Have your broad trippin' in my Ford Expedition
Listen, diamonds and rhymin' put me back on top
I pop wine with live mens in the platinum drop
My "Player's Anthem" drop
Y'all was like, "Look at shorty chocolate rocks"
I suggest you jump out them clothes too
We can go on and on like Erykah Badu
Or we can get freaky in the Lex 450
While you lick me, I'm doin' 60 quickly
Females are blacktails down to hustle up
Wanna cuddle up? You shy? I'm your comforter
I know you love it, huh?
I make you feel right, if it's real tight, long pole, a'ight?
I make your mouthpiece obese like Della Reese
When I release, you lose teeth like Lil' Cease
Playa please, blood flood your Dungarees
And that's just the half of my warpath
Laugh now, cry later, I rhyme greater
Than the average player hater and spectators
Buy my CD twice
They see me in the streets, they be like, "Yo, he nice"
But that's on the low though
Be them cats with no dough, try to play me at my show
I pull out .44's and go up in they clothes
Short change, snort 'caine
Abortion came quicker, sport the wings, nigga
It still tickle me, I used to be as strong as Ripple be
'Til Lil' Cease crippled me
Now I play hard like my girl's nipples be
The game sour like a pickle be, y'all know the rules
Move from BK to New Jerz
Thinking 'bout all the planes we flew
Females we ran through, now the year's new
I lay my game flat, I want my spot back, take two
Mad 'cause I blew, players envious
Too many players on my—shit's strenuous
When my men bust, you just move with such stamina
Slugs missed ya, I ain't mad at ya (We ain't mad at ya)
Slugs rush in, bunt-bustin', concussions
Catch cases, come out frontin', smokin' somethin'
Sippin' White Russians, bitch in the Benz bumpin'
Laced it with the basic
Six TVs a system, knockin' mace, face it
We hard to hit, guard your—before I hit you
With your re-up, light the P up
Lick shots, woke your seed up
One in the ashtray, spark the weed up
Uh, I'm flamin' gats, aimin' at
These—maniacs put my name in raps
What part the game is that?
Like your hustle backwards, I smoke Backwoods
And dutchies, you can't touch me, try to rush me
Slugs go touchy-touchy, you're bleedin' lovely
With your spirit above me or beneath me
Your whole life you live sleepy
Now you rest eternally sleepy, you burn when you creep me
Rest where the worms and the weak be
My nine flies, baptize rap guys
With the Holy Ghost, I put holes in most
You hold your toast shaky, slippin' tryna break me
Look what you made me do, brains blew
My team in the marine blue six coupe
Niggas in my faction don't like askin' questions
Strictly gun testin', coke measurin'
Givin' pleasure in the Benzito, hittin' fannies
Spendin' chips at Manny's, hope you creeps got receipts
My peeps get dirty like cleats
Run up in your crib, wrap you in your Polo sheets
Six up in your wig-piece, nigga deceased
Mwah, may you rest in peace
With my sycamore style, more sicker than yours
.44 And fifty-four drawers
As my pilot steers my Lear, yes, my dear
Shit's official, only the feds I fear
Here's a tissue, stop your bloodclot cryin'
The kids, the dog, everybody dyin', no lyin'
So don't you get suspicious
I'm Big Dangerous, you're just a little vicious
As I leave my competition respirator style
Climb the ladder to success escalator style
Hold y'all breath, I told y'all
Death controls y'all, Big don't fold y'all
Uh, I spit phrases that'll thrill you
You're nobody 'til somebody kills you
Ooh, that's it, y'all
Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns
As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper dons
Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan
It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada
Fuck Poppa, you gotta
Call me Francis M.H. White
Intake light tokes, tote iron
Was told in shootouts stay low, keep firin'
Keep extra clips for extra shit
Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?
The most shady, Frankie, baby
Ain't no tellin' where I may be
May see me in D.C. at Howard homecomin'
With my man Capone dummin' fuckin' somethin'
You should know my steelo
Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show
To orgies with hoes I never seen before
So Jesus, get off the Notorious
Penis before I squeeze and bust
If the beef between us, we can settle it
With the chrome and metal shit
Make it hot like a kettle get
You're delicate, you better get
Who sent ya? You still peddle shit
I got more rides than Great Adventure
Uh, uh, uh