[Verse 1: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Who shot ya? Separate the weak from the obsolete
Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets
It's on n***a, fuck all that bickering beef
I can hear sweat trickling down your cheek
Your heartbeat sound like Sasquatch feet
Thundering, shaking the concrete
Then the shit stop when I foil the plot
Neighbors call the cops, said they heard mad shots
Saw me in the drop, three and a quarter
Slaughter, electrical tape around your daughter
Old school/new school need to learn though
I burn, baby, burn like "Disco Inferno"
Burn slow like blunts with yayo
Peel more skins than Idaho Potato
N***as know: the lyrical molesting is taking place
Fucking with Biggie Smalls, it ain't safe
I make your skin chafe, rashes on them asses
Bumps and bruises, blunts and Land Cruisers
Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools
N***as mad because I know that cash rules
Everything around me two Glock 9s
Any motherfucker whispering about mines
And I'm Crooklyn's finest
Representing for the queen, her royal highness
[Verse 2: Keith Murray]
Catch this one bubonic plague
In your head, back, chest, arms, and legs
When I'm coming through grab your cranium for alternatum
Son, I stay subterranium
My subliminals mix with criminal chemicals
Got more milky syllables than alphabet cereal
Place your bet and your whole entourage will get wet
That's a promise 'cause Idon't make threats
I'm a graceful poet with sadistic ballistics
Above and beyond all that other bullshit
Linguistics aggressive antiseptic
Nerve-wreckin', concepted on consistent contestants
My deviant deliverance
Leaves MC's in a state of mal mid depressin' (Word up)
I launch flows like torpedos
At any god-given episode
I be destined to flip so much funk shit
And do n***as better than the government
Keith Murray wrecks this with various combinations
I'm sick, manifestation
Oh my god, it's the hardest, I make entourages
And crews see mirages, Mary J. Blige is
God, gotta have my crew lace me up now