Lyrics:
all about
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee
Hear it!
This a di wickedest introduction inna di world
A me man, likkle Vicious from outta Donovan, Thomas, and
Mmm, cho
Doug E. fresh man gwan
the cat from the front I'm the kit man
In the back with a blunt smoking big gas
Rocking Gucci and Louis a mix match
I got water on my wrist ahh
She got
momma, she don't have to work no mo'
I pay the bills by the flow from the studio
And I was out in the game by old players and G's
Hollerin 50
face at
And the MAC 11 tucked in where da 12 gauge at
When I was 13 had 14 grams of ajax
Turned 15 start spitting 16s
Of straight crack
By 17, 18th
In this man's world, so much for Women's Lib
New York New York big city of dreams
But everything in New York ain't always what it seems
You
nothing in this world of greed
Alibi's can make a man change focus and squeeze
Humbleness can make a man meditate on his knees
Pistol packing carjacking
understand whats happening here
He likes to whisper in mans ear
This cat's a fuckin' bitch
When he's performin'
Look how you went like Notorious BIG
How you
doin, man
Don't give a damn if the squares don't understand
You let em tell you what to say and what to write
Your whole career'll be over by tomorrow
All I wanna see is big stacks
All I wanna see is big racks
All I wanna see is big cheques
Now tell me, homie, can you get that?
Money bags in my hand
in my face, its a sad case
So who ya man dippin the dollars, what
Yup, for puttin lipstick on his collar
At home, he's gotta listen to ya holla
But
in my face, its a sad case
So who ya man dippin the dollars, what
Yup, for puttin lipstick on his collar
At home, he's gotta listen to ya holla
But
in my face, its a sad case
So who ya man dippin the dollars, what
Yup, for puttin lipstick on his collar
At home, he's gotta listen to ya holla
But
the big battleship
I know I'm just a little kayak
I know who my betters are in this world
I'm just a little kayak
With the First Amendment, a ukulele,
the chronic by the tree
"I love it when you call me big poppa"
Throw your hands in the air, if you'se a true player
"I love it when you call me big pop-pa"
the biz go
In case you ain’t know, it’s all a big show
It ain’t a big deal. Superheroes ain’t real [I shoulda known]
[You mean so much to me] (3x)
I’m
Big heart been big hurt
But you probably can’t tell by the way I break it down like that
Big heart it was hard
To see it gettin broke into small parts
I
Need to see you and feel you next to me
I was small minded
In a big world
Had to be reminded
To love you girl
I was blind sided
Searching for the wrong
the chronic by the tree
"I love it when you call me big poppa"
Throw your hands in the air, if you'se a true player
"I love it when you call me big pop-pa"
Said I want
Good sex
No stress
One bo
No ex
Small crew
Big checks
What’s next
More checks yeah
More checks
More sex yeah
No stress
Said I want
Good
back at the end of May) (Rah, it's BKay, you know)
(It was such a lovely day, I was in a small cafe)
Yo
Everyone cattin' man's style
Every day, new
thanks?
By giving my life to you, by serving you
By not holding back the big things and the small things too
I give them all to you
This is how I say thanks
skills to be a woman that's black
Fake hair in the back, plus green contacts
Yo-Yo, is just tryna to stop ya
Because the world ain't a big soap opera
world knew it too
Chorus:
She was white lace but not an angel She sinned, but was not the devil,
She was just a small girl in a big world trying to find
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