Tonalidad: Bb minor
Verse 1
Bbm
Yeah, motherfuckers better
know I'm a bad boy
Lock your windows, close your doors
If you're small, huh,
F
Bbm
yeah I'm a bad boy
My man MF left a tech
and a nine at my crib
Turned himself in, he had to do a bid
A one to three, he be home the end of 93
I'm ready to get this paper, G
You with me? Motherfuckin' right!
My pockets lookin' kinda tight,
and I'm stressed
Yo Biggie, let me get the vets
No need for that, just grab the fuckin' gat
The first pocket that's fat,
the tech is to his back
Word is born, I'ma smoke him,
y 'all don't fake no moves
Treat it like boxing,
stick and move, stick and
Nigga, you ain't got to explain shit
I've been robbin' motherfuckers
since the slave ships
With the same clip,
and the same four -five
Two -point blank,
a motherfucker's sure to die
That's my word, nigga,
even try to Bogart
Have his mother sing it, it's so hard
Bb
Bbm
Yes, love, love your fuckin' attitude
Because a nigga play pussy,
that's a nigga that's gettin' screwed
And bruised up from the pistol whippin'
Webs on the neck from the
necklace strippin'
Then I'm dippin' up the block
and I'm robbin' bitches too
Up the herringbones and bamboos
I wouldn't give a fuck if you're Pink Eric
Give me the baby rings
and the number one mom pendant
I'm slammin' niggas like Shaquille,
shit
But it's real, when it's time to eat a meal
I rob and steal, cause mom
Duke ain't giving me shit
So for the bread and butter,
I leave niggas in the gutter
Word to mother, I'm dangerous,
crazier than a bag of fucking angel dust
When I bust my gap,
motherfuckers take dirt naps
I'm all that, and a dime sack,
F
where the paper at?
Well he's sticking you,
and taking all your money
Bbm
Gimme the loot, gimme the loot,
Bbm
Gimme the loot, gimme the loot,
Cb
I'm a bad boy
Gb
Bbm
Gimme the loot, gimme the loot,
I'm a bad Gimme
Give me the loot, give me the loot,
Gb
give me the loot,
Bbm
Gb
Bbm
give me the loot
F
Bbm
F
Bbm
Big up, big up, it's a stick up, stick up
And I'm shootin' niggas quick
if you hiccup
Don't let me throw my clip up
in your back and headpiece
The opposite of peace, sendin' Mom
Bbm
You're talkin' to the robbery expert
Step into your wake
with your blood on my shirt
Don't be a jerk and get smoked
over being resistant
Cause when I lick shots,
the shit is persistent
Goodness gracious, the papers
Where the cash at?
Where the stash at?
Nigga, pass that
Before you get your grave
dug from the main thug
357 slug, and my nigga
Biggie got a NG1 grip
Bb
One in the chamber,
Bbm
32 in the clip
Motherfuckers better strip
Yeah, nigga, peel
Before you find out how blue steel feel
From the Beretta,
putting all the holes in your sweater
The money getter,
motherfuckers know the petter
Rolex watches and colorful swatches
I'm diggin' in pockets,
motherfuckers can't stop it
Man, niggas come through,
I'm takin' high school rings, too
Bitches get s*** for the
earrings and bangles
And when I rock her and drop her,
I'm takin' her donakas
And if she's resistant, baka, baka, baka
So go get your man, bitch,
he could get robbed, too
Tell him Biggie took it,
what the f*** he gonna do?
Bb
I hope I'm apologetic,
or I might have to set it
And if I set it,
Bbm
F
the cocksucker won't forget it
Bbm
Rock bitch, ayy bitch,
gimme the money, bitch
F
Bbm
F
Gimme the loot, gimme the loot
Bb
Gimme me the loot, gimme me the loot
Bbm
Bb
Bbm
Gim me the loot,
F
Bb
Bbm
Bb
Bbm
gimme me the loot
Gb
Cb
Bbm
F
Bbm
F
Bbm
all this walking is hurting my feet
Who money look sweet?
F
Where? Indian Susu G
Bbm
Man, I throw him in the fiend,
you grab the fuckin' screen
And if he start to scream, bomb,
bomb, have a nice dream
Hold up, he got a fuckin' bitch in the car
Fur coats and diamonds,
she thinks she a superstar
Ooh, Biggie, let me jack her,
I kick her in the back
Hit her with the gas, chill,
shorty, let me do that
Bbm
Just get the fuckin' car keys
and cruise up the block
The bitch act shot,
gettin' shot on the spot
Oh shit, the cops!
Be cool, fool, they ain't gonna roll up
All they want is fuckin' doughnuts
Bbm
So why the fuck he keep lookin'?
I guess to get his life cookin'
I just came home, ain't tryin' to see
Central bookin'
Bbm
Oh shit, now he lookin' in my face
You better haul ass,
cause I ain't with no fuckin' chase
Bbm
So lace up your boots,
cause I'm about to shoot
A true motherfuckin'
Outro 1
goin' out for the loot
F
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