How should I plead? Forever thuggin' on a quest to get G's
Runnin' from enemies ever since the days of a seed
I'm under pressure, the stress will have me drinkin'
Thinkin' nikkas after me, much too paranoid to blink
Wonder why the police don't wanna see me stackin' G's
They after a playa, but I won't let 'em capture me
I gotta thank the Lord for the weed and the nicotine
I can't sleep, close my eyes, I see wicked things
I keep my pistol by my bedside, one in the chamber
Preoccupied with homicide, my life's in danger
Rollin' down the 405, beware of stangers
Hand on my 4-5; that's what the fame does
I'm probably wrong, but I'll never know it till I'm gone
From out the gutter where the jealous motherfukkers roam
Pass the weed let that Hennessey get to me
Before the penitentiary, let's get it on!
nikkas know who's the mind blower, the weed grower
Have you seen doubles like Noah? The rhyme flower
B.I.G. top notch with the Glock, check your pockets
And your sockets, it's just the way my pops taught me
When you throw the drop check 'em throughly
The b*stard might spin around and try to bury me
And dead nikkas don't make no moves
When I'm slingin' in the hood I don't fake no moves
Aight, reminiscin' on my swinger days
When I drove a Caddy and my bytch sported finger waves
Yeah, she had the Gucci roots I had Carducci Suits
Oshkosh-begosh, Coca-Cola, lookin' real cute
Junior M.A.F.I.A. representin' Bucktown
MAC-11 cocked back, nikkas better duck down
Face down, you know the routine, the cream, earrings
You know the drama Biggie bring, let's get it on!
BRUH