DESCRIÇÃO GERAL

LETRA

Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
K-Ci & JoJo
K-Ci & JoJo
Vocals
Nas
Nas
Vocals
The Notorious B.I.G.
The Notorious B.I.G.
Vocals
Mario Winans
Mario Winans
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Alan Roy Scott
Alan Roy Scott
Songwriter
Donald DeGrate
Donald DeGrate
Songwriter
Ed Fox
Ed Fox
Songwriter
Norman Glover
Norman Glover
Songwriter
Reginald Ellis
Reginald Ellis
Songwriter
Christopher Wallace
Christopher Wallace
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Dominick Mancuso
Dominick Mancuso
Assistant Engineer
P. Diddy
P. Diddy
Producer
Rob Paustain
Rob Paustain
Mixing Engineer
Bluez Brothers
Bluez Brothers
Original Producer
Andreo Heard
Andreo Heard
Producer
Jason Goldstein
Jason Goldstein
Recording Engineer
Roger Che
Roger Che
Recording Engineer

Letra

[Verse 1]
Woo, there's gonna be a lotta punchin' in this motherfucker
Y'all better be swift with that punch button, Jack
Biggie, Biggie
[Verse 2]
I know how it feel to wake up fucked up
Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell
People look at you like you's a user
Selling drugs to all the losers, mad buddha abuser
But they don't know about your stress-filled day
Baby on the way, mad bills to pay
That's why you drink Tanqueray, so you can reminisce
And wish you wasn't living so devilish, shit
I remember I was just like you
Smoking blunts with my crew, flippin' over 62's
'Cause GED wasn't BIG
I had to get PAD, that's why my moms hate me
[Verse 3]
She was forced to kick me out, no doubt
Then I figured out licks went for twenty down South
Packed up my tools for my raw power move
Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves
For chumps tryin' to stop my flow
And what they don't know will show on the autopsy
Went to see Papi, to cop me a brick
Asked for some consignment, he wasn't tryin' to hear it
Smoking mad Newports 'cause I'm due in court
For an assault that I caught in Bridgeport, New York
Catch me if you can like the Gingerbread Man
You better have your gat in hand, 'cause, man
[Verse 4]
Come and run with me, I really wanna show you
How I work the streets, I really wanna show you
How I'm clocking G's, I really wanna show you
Come and run with me, I really wanna show you
[Verse 5]
I had the master plan
I'm in the caravan on my way to Maryland
With my man Two-Tecs to take over this projects
They call him Two-Tecs, he tote two tecs
And when he start to bust he like to ask who's next?
I got my honey on the Amtrak
With the crack in the crack of her ass
Two pounds of hash in the stash
I wait for hon' to make some quick cash
I told her she could be Lieutenant, bitch got gassed
At last, I'm literally loungin' black
Sittin' back, countin' double digit thousand stacks
Had to re-up, see what's up with my peeps
Toyota Deal-a-Thon had it cheap on the Jeeps
[Verse 6]
See who got smoked, what rumors was spread
Last I heard I was dead with six to the head
Then I got the phone call, it couldn't hit me harder
We got infiltrated, like Nino at the Carter
Heard Tec got murdered in a town I never heard of
By some bitch named Alberta over nickel-plated burners
And my bitch swear to God she won't snitch
I told her when she hit the bricks
I'll make the hooker rich
Conspiracy, she'll be home in three
Until then I looks out for the whole family
A true G, that's me, blowin' like a bubble
In the everyday struggle
[Verse 7]
Come and run with me, I really wanna show you
How I work the streets, I really wanna show you
How I'm clocking G's, I really wanna show you
Come and run with me, I really wanna show you
[Verse 8]
I'm seeing body after body and our mayor Giuliani
Ain't tryin' to see no black man turn to John Gotti
[Verse 9]
Guns and diamonds
Bitches put they tongues where the sun ain't shinin'
Take keys till they spot us, snakes flee with consignment
This kid he got his crib raided, police found grams
They locked up his whole fam, mom, sister, his old man
**** bailed his moms out, then he told on his man
Now they home actin' like nothin' wrong, hustlin' again
He tried to be the next Frank White and Escobar
Pickin' up coke, a fiend holds it in a separate car
Cooks it up till it's bright white, cut it tight right
Then he slings it to the fiends, lookin' like Fright Night
Coppin' the motorbikes, the scooters, countin' dough on computers
High technology dealers, to the users and losers
[Verse 10]
Half-leg Didi, try to swap drugs for TV's
Stores run out of baking soda from BK to QB
My **** die for the cause, .45 on the drawer
City laws made by Big Nas and Biggie Smalls
Bitches holdin' my weight in they titties and bras
My bitches out a state get busy while they pushin' my cars
Callin' me up, callin' me baller, call for they cut
Pretty hoes bring my my cash, swallow all of this nut
Seats on the Bent' say nasty, push the dash
For the stash box is where the cash be, watchin' for task force
'Cause I know they comin' but I'm reachin' my goal
Fuck bummin', I'm makin' sure I leave this whole game with somethin'
Crib in West Palms for my dime, crib for my moms
Ridiculous, you lookin' at the next Nicholas Barnes, baby
[Verse 11]
Come and run with me, I really wanna show you
How I work the streets, I really wanna show you
How I'm clocking G's, I really wanna show you
Come and run with me, I really wanna show you
[Verse 12]
Come and run with me, I really wanna show you
How I work the streets, I really wanna show you
How I'm clocking G's, I really wanna show you
Come and run with me, I really wanna show you
[Verse 13]
Come and run with me, I really wanna show you
How I work the streets, I really wanna show you
How I'm clocking G's, I really wanna show you
Come and run with me, I really wanna show you
Written by: Alan Roy Scott, Christopher Wallace, Donald DeGrate, Ed Fox, Norman Glover, Reginald Ellis

Rodapé Shazam

Seleciona o idioma:

Empresa

Jurídico

Google Play Store
Apple App Store
Chrome Web Store
Galaxy Store

Segue-nos

© copyright 2025 Apple Inc. e suas afiliadas | Responsabilidade do fornecedor
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out

Loading...