the notorious b.i.g. - 1995 westwood freestyle (me & craig) lyrics
[craig mack]
flip funk in the uk
p-ss the ill fill
and i can feel all the flava
kicking from the ua- us neighbour
kick all the flava
do the mack do, what you wanna do, you savour
this step is called the bru to the t
bust the rhymes for free, i gets down
mack is inside your town
busting lyrics tourture like the missiles slow you down
sup with b.i.g? p-ss the microphone to you so i can take a puff
[the notorious b.i.g]
who throw gats to guiliani?
flows tighter than pigeon punani, try me, die g
dangerous, since my daddy bust me out the tip of his d-ck
biggie smalls with the wickedest shit
spit clips, niggas split like bananas
flavour like tropicana; orange, mango, peach
i strangle each
negro for they dough
niggas get to bendin’, got two cases, one pending
560 v-12 engine, niggas swimmin’
in 929 mazdas, tammy and natasha
the menage-a-trois is at my crib
like ill and al skratch smokin’ 50 sacks in the back of ac’s
windows cracked, so sit back relax
craig, crush the hash, the beretta’s in the stash
[craig mack]
well, bang! let’s kick it off like a b-tt
more fakes than allen front to leave you lost like a treasure hunt
from now on, y’all crossed the land
craig mack’s the upper hand with more rhymes than the beach got sand
you’re an mc, yo my original job is that mistaken raps’ll guarantee you look like a slob
i got more rhymes than kids got the measles
you shooting needles, we are bigger than the beatles
i crush , hush with the super sunday rush
we’re trotting to the cot cause your style turns back to mush
i flip out the funk off the frame
now you know my name- mackalicious, ain’t you got a king?
before 10:00 westwood, i’m no good
shaking from here to back to breckwood
on one fm rap show, the illest flow that you ever heard on your radio
biggie smalls, my motherf-cking man, take the microphone and kick the wicked like a man
[the notorious b.i.g]
i went from construction timbs to acs with rims
flipping mixtapes to b-tches feeding me grapes
peep my mind state, big poppa flow is lethal
that weed make my -ss wanna k!ll four people!
forget the dames, gimme the range and the wain
my niggas up the pawn drop top jag walls
blindfold you when you step in the car
that’s the superstar status apparatus, more wings than clutches
cease roll the hash, it’s in the pocket with the nine
lick off the wine as my seats recline
i want a presidential rollie
so i crush mc’s, the guacamole making robin scream “holy molly!”
big poppa, off the caper, i’m that paper crusader
playing sega in a widebody blazer
and if you don’t know now you know
my flow you pick like an afro
wet like soul glo
…uh, you don’t stop…
[notorious b.i.g]
big poppa, throwing niggas off of cliffs, smoking spliffs
disappear with my b-tch in a mitsubishi eclipse
read my lips, i k!ll you, blood will spill too
did i say thank you? i grant you
three wishes cause i be the genie
niggas is -ss out like fat b-tches in bikinis
read between the lines, see what i see?
i see the diary of a sick b-st-rd
junior m.a.f.i.a blaster
rugers on the hips, bought c-ke to fill chips
more burners to fill clips, check it…
putting c-ke in corner store bodegas
in the back room playing sega streetfighter 2
i’m inviting you, get your writing crew and their dopest rhymes
i’ll get up in that -ss every time
lyrically i’m untouchable, uncrushable
getting mad blunted in a 600 benz
ask your friends who’s the illest
licking shots niggas screaming biggie smalls tried to k!ll us
[craig mack]
i get ill…
it’s time for a funk refill of rhymes that i k!ll as i shoot ’em in the grill
mc’s, i’m not impressed
your best don’t just throw your chest
where’s the bullet proof or the wool vest, won’t matter
your chest will shatter
on the tip of my d-ck baby you are the badder
mc’s now feel funktified
they tried but now they died
[the notorious b.i.g]
biggie bring big bowls of beef
backing b-tch niggas down burners bring bundles of belief
common thief slash drug chief, syndicated
went from 10k to 24k, competition hated, j.m. sedated
quarantine
big for president, busting shots past your spleen
9 millimeter dreams, mac 11 nightmares
which mc’s do you fear? big poppa, junior m.a.f.i.a, nuff said
niggas disrespect just i dead
[craig mack]
just i dead
mc’s will turn red from the shot i lick, ceaser sick
too much shagging, too much drinking, too much thinking
mc’s are blinking the third eye when i p-ss by
mackalicious got the sweet potato fried for you motherf-cker, i… touch the microphone
i do or die, make the hardest motherf-cker cry when a mc p-ss by
i flip rhymes off the top of my head just like raid i spray mc’s until they dead
a vocal volcanic microphone, robotic tonic atonic
the microphone is mine so mc’s panic
i get down for my ground
you could see i met james brown in your town
flipping funk on a friday on my malware
in the highway, takes mc’s by the driveway, driveway
slow ill flow, so you know, head to toe
ill bend flows when i go…
from flow to top ten… to dough…
flow ill flow, badboy down said so
so biggie smalls my man, take command
turn each mc you see into sand
(change of beat)
[craig mack]
i stretch the funk like my name was plastic man
eating mc’s out the can in my hip-hop wonderland
i got the venom like the snake’s got the venom, i put it in ’em
faces turn bluer than my denim
but don’t look down though my name is david banner
flipping green on the mic cause they can’t control my gamma
so stop hogging us, mack’s the erogenous
so rap full grown, see us the acrogynous
there ain’t a rapper liver than the rebel
my voice don’t carry treble, eat mc’s like a vegetable
crack a few stepping on the pedal
heavy off the medal, life’s stronger waiting for the sun to settle
king mc, for that i thank the lord
ill vocal chords sometimes you get the style bored
as we break it down, biggie smalls represent brooklyn your hometown
(change of beat)
[the notorious b.i.g]
niggas in my faction don’t like asking questions
strictly gun testing, c-ke measuring
giving pleasure in the benzito
hitting fannies, spending 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
6 up in your wig-piece, nigga decease
mxwaah! may you rest in peace
with my sycamore style, more sicker than yours
.44 and 54 draws
as my pilot, steers my lear- yes, my dear
shit’s official, only the feds i fear
here’s a tissue, stop your blood clot crying
the kids, the dog, everybody dying, no lying
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
i spit phrases that’ll thrill you
you’re nobody ’til somebody k!lls you
(change of beat)
[the notorious b.i.g]
your reign on the top was short like leprechauns
as i crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons
get in that -ss, quick fast, like ramadan
it’s that rap phenomenon don dada
f-ck poppa, you got to call me francis m.h. white
intake light tokes, tote iron
was told in shootouts, stay low, keep firing
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 telling where i may be
may see me in d.c. at howard homecoming
with my man capone, dumbing, f-cking something
you should know my steelo
went from 10 g’s for blow to 30 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 pedal shit, i got more rides than great adventure
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