[00:11.272](I **** around and get hardcore) (hardcore) ×4--] Biggie Smalls
[00:20.790][ VERSE 1 ]Listen to me get busy on this track, big shots to Kenny Parker
[00:24.352]It sparked ya, marked ya, son, you'se marked for death
[00:26.997]You gots to be more Man than Meth to **** with Heath-
[00:29.894]Er B, be breakin down styles quite simply
[00:32.149]You're causin me, hold up, wait, bitches is forcin me
[00:34.860]To show that I'm the ruggeder, I keep 'em turnin yellower
[00:37.765]See me, say to yourself, "I can't **** with her"
[00:40.088]My rowdy nuccas got all things covered, what!
[00:43.101]Pick that time and that spot and we'll meet up
[00:45.428]I'm leavin bitches beat up, tell yo nucca roll his weed up
[00:48.131]Cause I'm yankin all you ass-stankin shorties
[00:50.806]By yo teeth, so keep yo comments brief
[00:53.347]The Lord-have-mercy's and the Oh-my-god's, plus the Please's
[00:55.822]You'll be sayin to your Jesus when my rhyme style releases
[00:58.547]So trick or lick a dick up, go find some ****in work
[01:01.199]Cause the only thing you gon' get around here is hurt
[01:03.839]No doubt (No doubt)
[01:04.655](I **** around and get hardcore) (hardcore)×4 --] Biggie Smalls
[01:13.759][ VERSE 2 ]Y'all remember 'Um Tang, Um Tang'?
[01:15.893]Well now nuccas holler 'Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang!'
[01:18.374]This be a Jersey thang-thang, nothin but street slang
[01:21.301]Nothin but blunts hang from the lips of this lyricist
[01:24.461]You try and diss, it's a mistake but I'll excuse you
[01:27.634]Lose you, defuse you if you claim to be the bomb
[01:30.113]Y'all corny mothereffers and y'all slick-talkin heffers
[01:32.866]Y'all uppers and your lower lips need sewin together
[01:35.490]Y'all talk more shit than Al Sharpton when the mic on
[01:38.151]In person you'se a bitch with tight white panties on
[01:41.010]Bitch-ass, trick-ass, you can't rhyme
[01:43.204]Prepared me for take-off, I'm leavin niggas flatlined
[01:45.931]( *flatline* )
[01:50.472]I came with that eenie-meenie-minie-moe
[01:52.476]And caught a sleepin rapper by the toe
[01:54.343]I'm undisguised, you recognize me
[01:55.968]In the black jacket and boots made by Polo
[01:58.760]A sister that be rockin solo
[02:00.604]Over Thorough-Ass Bo, Tone flows with the two followed by three zeros
[02:05.071]In 2000 I ain't checkin for no heroes
[02:07.491]I just wanna sit back and count mad dinero
[02:10.175]And have the CREAM comin from my rear, yo
[02:12.605]I speak crystal-clear, so I know that you heard me
[02:15.763]Heather B be the one hollerin 'Jersey!'
[02:18.160]Chilltown up in this piece
[02:20.013]And the Coast be the mother****in East
[02:22.558]No doubt (No doubt)
[02:23.503](I **** around and get hardcore) (hardcore) --] Biggie Smalls
[02:43.144][ VERSE 3 ]I wanna be more Illmatic than Nas
[02:45.854]And have bitches breakin and 19in and maydayin like Das
[02:49.201]EFX, I set, then set off, then re-set
[02:51.833]Your whole sound set, your rhyme cipher or your blunt set
[02:54.591]Shit, why you stressin me, ock, what I do to you?
[02:57.158]Nothin gon' stop the rowdy type from puttin tools to you
[02:59.859]Baggy Guess wear his ass tear us by the frame
[03:02.123]Gettin ass to ass and smokin ganja by the basket
[03:04.961]Rowdy bastards, we better batter up
[03:07.491]It's time to leave more bodies splattered up
[03:09.214]Let's gather up, round up [Names]
[03:12.525]Grab a Phillie and a touch of the invincible wideout
[03:15.202]We gon' burn on three different crews, from three different hoods
[03:18.668]I don't know who lied and told you it was all good
[03:21.263]Not around here and that's word
[03:23.284]Leavin teeth on the corner and ass on the curb
[03:25.868]No doubt (No doubt)
[03:26.485](I **** around and get hardcore) (hardcore) --] Biggie Smalls

(I **** around and get hardcore) (hardcore) ×4--] Biggie Smalls
Listen to me get busy on this track, big shots to Kenny Parker
It sparked ya, marked ya, son, you'se marked for death
You gots to be more Man than Meth to **** with Heath-
Er B, be breakin down styles quite simply
You're causin me, hold up, wait, bitches is forcin me
To show that I'm the ruggeder, I keep 'em turnin yellower
See me, say to yourself, "I can't **** with her"
My rowdy nuccas got all things covered, what!
Pick that time and that spot and we'll meet up
I'm leavin bitches beat up, tell yo nucca roll his weed up
Cause I'm yankin all you ass-stankin shorties
By yo teeth, so keep yo comments brief
The Lord-have-mercy's and the Oh-my-god's, plus the Please's
You'll be sayin to your Jesus when my rhyme style releases
So trick or lick a dick up, go find some ****in work
Cause the only thing you gon' get around here is hurt
No doubt (No doubt)
(I **** around and get hardcore) (hardcore)×4 --] Biggie Smalls
Y'all remember 'Um Tang, Um Tang'?
Well now nuccas holler 'Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang!'
This be a Jersey thang-thang, nothin but street slang
Nothin but blunts hang from the lips of this lyricist
You try and diss, it's a mistake but I'll excuse you
Lose you, defuse you if you claim to be the bomb
Y'all corny mothereffers and y'all slick-talkin heffers
Y'all uppers and your lower lips need sewin together
Y'all talk more shit than Al Sharpton when the mic on
In person you'se a bitch with tight white panties on
Bitch-ass, trick-ass, you can't rhyme
Prepared me for take-off, I'm leavin niggas flatlined
( *flatline* )
I came with that eenie-meenie-minie-moe
And caught a sleepin rapper by the toe
I'm undisguised, you recognize me
In the black jacket and boots made by Polo
A sister that be rockin solo
Over Thorough-Ass Bo, Tone flows with the two followed by three zeros
In 2000 I ain't checkin for no heroes
I just wanna sit back and count mad dinero
And have the CREAM comin from my rear, yo
I speak crystal-clear, so I know that you heard me
Heather B be the one hollerin 'Jersey!'
Chilltown up in this piece
And the Coast be the mother****in East
No doubt (No doubt)
(I **** around and get hardcore) (hardcore) --] Biggie Smalls
I wanna be more Illmatic than Nas
And have bitches breakin and 19in and maydayin like Das
EFX, I set, then set off, then re-set
Your whole sound set, your rhyme cipher or your blunt set
Shit, why you stressin me, ock, what I do to you?
Nothin gon' stop the rowdy type from puttin tools to you
Baggy Guess wear his ass tear us by the frame
Gettin ass to ass and smokin ganja by the basket
Rowdy bastards, we better batter up
It's time to leave more bodies splattered up
Let's gather up, round up
Grab a Phillie and a touch of the invincible wideout
We gon' burn on three different crews, from three different hoods
I don't know who lied and told you it was all good
Not around here and that's word
Leavin teeth on the corner and ass on the curb
No doubt (No doubt)
(I **** around and get hardcore) (hardcore) --] Biggie Smalls