The Notorious B.I.G.
Grab My Gun
[Hook:]
Grab the 9,2 clips and run a muck!
So I grab my gun
A fist-full of bullets,a chest full of teflon
Nowhere to run,so I grab my gun!

[Biggie]
I'm sticking ice picks on the tip of your dick
Give your testicles a swift kick ain't that some shit
Am I hard-hardcore harder than the Plymouth
It ain't no myth. It's a n***a with a spliff
And a chrome four-fifth pressed on yo back
So what you want n***a?
How you wanna act?
I'm uncivilized cause I love to see n***as die
Brains all leaking out on the street
And the pastor preaching: he was a good man
Played the bad man when the burner was in his hand
Now he's singing sad songs with Elvis
Three to the head, 'bout six cross the pelvis
You fuck with the high die you die
You're the same motherfucker
If you look up in the sky
I want some old nex shit
Suplex shit
Hardcore sex shit

[Hook:]
Grab the 9, 2 clips and run a muck!
So I grab my gun
A fist-full of bullets,a chest full of teflon
Nowhere to run,so I grab my gun!

[Biggie]
A repetitive loop all I need to display
Solo is the proof I put it to you boy
Hope you got the scoop
Biggie Smalls the rap genius
I keep the Glock by the penis
The cleanest cut fuck sluts
With the big humongous butts
I used to rub a butt
My style is Gucci like the hookers pussy
And it don't take a lot of back talk
To push me into flamin 'em
Like that little n***a Damien
Glock 19 to my motherfucking cranium
Gang-thight gun toting motherfucker
N***as in they brains thought biggie was a sucker
I tricked 'em, I gave 'em work then I sticked 'em
I stripped 'em, cause n***as dont want the friction
Told you before how I bring the drama
Slaying Larry Johnson and his grand mama!
[Hook:]
Grab the 9,2 clips and run a muck!
So I grab my gun
A fist-full of bullets,a chest full of teflon
Nowhere to run,so I grab my gun!

[Biggie]
Fuck around and feel the fury of a high n***a when I get busy, throw ya hands in the sky n***a I got the illest of the ill mentality
N***as be grabbing me, knowing that they rather be stabbing me
All up in my back, try'na take my track
When I used to sell crack I ain't had problems like that
Street rules, watch your pockets and your jewels
A n***a front throw a gat to the fool next one to move is getting blasted
Streets to a flows from the ill ghetto bastard
As I release Master piece it's like indecent
Stuck to your ass like tissue when you're wiping fast
MC's have a hard time believin'
I'm marked with death hard to kill like Steven
With Jacob I'm leavin' the black man's motto: "You got a better chance playing lotto"

[Hook:]
Grab the 9,2 clips and run a muck!
So I grab my gun
A fist-full of bullets, a chest full of teflon
Nowhere to run, so I grab my gun!