Who the fuck is this?

pagin me at 5:46 in the mornin crack a dawnin

now I'm yawnin, wipe the cold out my eye

see who's this pagin me and why..

It's my nigga Pop from the barbershop

told me he was in the gamblin spot and heard the intricate plot

>some niggaz wanna stick you like fly paper neighbour

slow down love please chill drop the caper

>remember them niggaz from the hill up in Brownsville?

>that you rolled dice wit

>smoked the blunts and got nice wit

yeah my nigga Fame up in Prospect

nah dem my people nah love wouldn't disrespect

>I didn't day dem, they schooled me to some niggaz

>that you knew from back when,

>when you was clockin minor figures

>Now they heard you blowin up like nitro

>know they wanna stick the knife

>through your windpipe slow..

>so thank Fame for warnin me now I'm warnin you

>I got the mac Biggie

>tell me what you wanna do...



[CHORUS]

Damn niggas wanna stick me for my papers



[VERSE 2]

>They heard about the Rolex's and the Lexus

>wit the Texas license plate outta state

>they heard about the pounds

>you got down in Georgetown

>now they heard you got half of Virginia locked down

>they even heard about the crib

>you bought your moms out in Florida

>the fifth corridor....

Call the coroner

there's gonna be alot of slow singin

and flower bringin

if my burgular alarm starts ringin

whatcha think all the guns is for?

all purpose war got the rottweilers by the door

and I feed em gun powder so they can devour

The criminals tryin to drop my decimals

DAMN.. niggaz wanna stick my for my C.R.E.A.M.

and in a dream things ain't always how it seems

It's the ones that smoke blunts witcha

see your picture, now they wanna

grab they guns and come and getcha

Betcha Biggie won't slip

I got the calico with the black talions loaded in the clip

So I can rip through the ligaments

Put they bodies in a bad prediciment

where all the foul niggas went

Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta

Buck with what I had you with

you motherfuckers betta duck

I leave stains on blood of what remains

Had to jack-it, he had a gun he should've packed it

Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket

so I can reload and explode down ya rasshole

I fuck around and get hardcore, C-4 to ya door no beef no more(nigga)

Feel the rush, scandalous

The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous

I dont give a fuck about you or your weak crew

What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you

im not runnin, nigga I bust my gun in

Hold on I hear somebody comin...