Biggie Smalls biggie smalls - Gimme Tha Loot Lyrics

Intro:

Yeah. motherf***ers better know... huh, huh. lock your windows,
Close your doors. biggie smalls, huh...yeah.

Verse one:

My man inf left a tec 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
Im ready to get this paper, g, you with me?

Motherf***ing right, my pockets looking kind of tight
And Im stressed, yo biggie let me get the vest

No need for that, just grab the f***ing gat
The first pocket thats fat the tec is to his back
Word is bond, Im a smoke him yo dont fake no moves (what? )
Treat it like boxing: stick and move, stick and move

n____, you aint got to explain sh**
Ive been robbin motherf***ers since the slave ships
With the same clip and the same four-five
Two point-blank, a motherf***ers sure to die
Thats my word, n____ even try to bogart
Have his mother singing its so hard...

Yes, love love youre f***ing attitude
Because the n____ play p**** thats the n____ thats getting screwed
And bruised up from the pistol whipping
Webs on the neck from the necklace stripping
Then Im dipping up the block and Im robbing bi***es too
Up the herring bones and bamboos
I wouldnt give f*** if youre pregnant
Give me the baby rings and a #1 mom pendant

Im slamming n____z like shaquille, sh** is real
When its time to eat a meal I rob and steal
cos mom duke aint giving me sh**
So for the bread and b___er I leave n____z in the gutter
Huh, word to mother, Im dangerous
Crazier than a bag of f***ing angel dust
When I bust my gat motherf***ers take dirt naps
Im all that and a dime sack, where the paper at?

Verse two:

Big up, big up, its a stick up, stick up
And Im shooting n____z quick if you hiccup
Dont let me fill my clip up in your back and head piece
The opposite of peace sending mom duke a wreath
Youre talking to the robbery expert
Stepping to your wake with your blood on my shirt
Dont be a jerk and get smoked over being resistant
cos when I lick shots the sh**s is persistent

Huh, goodness gracious the papers
Where the cash at? where the stash at?
n____, pass that before you get your grave dug
From the main thug, .357 slug
And my n____ biggie got an itchy one grip

One in the chamber, 32 in the clip
Motherf***ers better strip, yeah n____ peel
Before you find out how blue steel feel

From the beretta, putting all the holes in your sweater
The money getter motherf***ers dont have better
Rolex watches and colourful swatches
Im digging in pockets, motherf***ers cant stop it

Man, n____z come through Im taking high school rings too
bi***es get stripped down for they earrings and bangles
And when I rock her and drop her Im taking her door knockers
And if shes resistant baka! baka! baka!

So go get your man bi*** he can get robbed too

Tell him biggie took it, what the f*** he gonna do?

I hope apologetic or Im a have to set it
And if I set it the c***sucker wont forget it

Verse three:

Man, listen all this walking is hurting my feet
But money looks sweet (where at? ) in the isuzu jeep

Man, I throw him in the beem, you grab the f***ing c.r.e.a.m
And if he start to scream bam! bam!, have a nice dream
Hold up, he got a f***ing bi*** 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 gat...

Yo chill, shorty, let me do that...
Just get the f***ing car keys and cruise up the block
The bi*** act shocked, gettin shot on the spot
(oh sh**! the cops!) be cool, fool
They aint gonna roll up, all they want is f***ing doughnuts
(so why the f*** he keep lookin? ) I guess to get his life tooken
I just came home, aint trying to see central booking
Oh sh**, now he lookin in my face
You better haul a__ cos I aint with no f***ing chase
So lace up your boots, cos Im about to shoot
A true motherf***er going out for the loot