the notorious b.i.g. - tha cypher lyrics
[biggie smalls]
(verse1)
money, hoes, and clothes
blunt smoke coming out the nose, is all a n-gga knows
flipping on foes, putting tags on toes
watching the stash grow, clocking the cashflow
the neighborhood gravedigger
getting paid so much, all the b-tches want to see a n-gga
i guess they figure i’m paid, i want to get laid
or since i got loot, i want to knock boots
i’d rather beat my d-ck than trick
and if she don’t suck, then we don’t f-ck
i’d rather make a buck, drive a fat–ss truck
grab the 9, two clips, and run amuck
yes, flex at the two or three benzes
i wreck sh-t, what the f-ck you expected?
a fly guy? well f-ck it, i’m the high guy
from bed-stuy, putting the swelling on your eye
and your nose even; when i choke ya, you stop breathing
and when jake come, i’m leaving
[biggie smalls]
(verse2)
when we smoke spliffs, we pack four-fifths
just in case dread want to riff
he get a free lift to the cemetary, rough very
not your ordinary: we watch you get buried
that’s a real n-gga for ya
get mad, do a quarter, flip the script, and rip your lawyer
spit at the da, cause f-ck what she say
she don’t give a f-ck about your -ss anyway
back up chump, you know biggie smalls rips it quick
and kicks it quick; you know how black n-ggas get
with the hoods, fatigues with the boots with trees
smokin weed, flippin ki’s, making crazy g’s
hitting buckshots at n-ggas that open spots
on the avenue–take my loot, and i’m bagging you
pimping hoes that drive volvos and rodeos
flash the roll, make her wet in her pantyhose
d-mn, a n-gga’s style is unorthodox
grip the glock, when i walk down the crowded blocks
just in case a n-gga want to act out
i just black out, and blow they motherf-cking back out
that’s a real n-gga for ya
[2pac]
(verse3)
im stuck in jail the da’s tryin’ to burn me
i’d be out on bail, if i had a good attorney
wanna label me a criminal and cuff me up
got a pocket full of money so they rough me up
i ain’t trippin’ in the county and im mad as f-ck
got a record so they put me with the baddest bunch
everybody wanna talk cause im rappin’
they asking me what happend
is it true you did a fl!ck with janet jackson?
i can’t sleep they taking polaroids
and im tryna’ use the phone but they making noise
man i wish i had my glock cause its major
im making shanks out the plastics in razors
these motherf-ckers won’t, leave me alone thats my word
’bout to turn a violation to a motherf-cking murder
im making collect calls to my old b-tches
send mo’ pictures, and make me some mo’ riches
to all the suckers on the block, talking sh-t while i was locked up
be prepared to be socked up
cause the game is deep, and the fame is brief
and you bullsh-tting b-tches ain’t changing me
i came straight up out of gutta’ i was saved from h-ll
im a thug i was raised in jail, now im out on bail
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