19 lyrics for "R.I.P. to B.I.G"

I keep a stick Okay, tick tock, Audemars wrist watch I keep a big Glock You get hit I do not miss shots I tell her, "Kick rocks" Okay, kick rocks, wrist go drip, drop I do not kiss, you making shit hot You think I'm dumb, I ain't no kid
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Come on, big dawg, where you wanna meet? (Dawg, where you wanna meet?) This shit, it just fill up my entity (Yeah) Made me just feel like my enemy (Yeah) I might just turn into my inner beast (Yeah) Know we tote choppers, we in the streets (Yeah) You
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With my hands gripped, praise the Lord shit Our father, if I should die before I wake Uh! Yeah, yeah Fuck 'em, yeah, uhh
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Hang around a lot of gang bangin' ass niggas Crip, Blood, blue or red, what you bang, nigga? You might got a pistol but this stick is way bigger I call it KKK, 'cause my choppa hate niggas Issa Nightmare on Elm Street A Nightmare on Elm Street I can show
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Hotboxin' in the whip (in the whip) I don't even smoke (smoke though) But we drop tops and let it rip (skrrt, skrrt) Pull up if it's smoke (huh?) With them big rocks up in her ear (word) Chandelier (chandelier), can you hear? (huh?) Who that there? Who
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Stay Dangerous Hop in the coupe, subtract the roof, like what it do? Heard you don't like neither, nigga fuck it, too Heard you tryna wife her up, I'm tryna pipe her loose All my niggas got stripes (rah!), sabertooth Big P's, Big B's, nigga, suu whoop
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Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high Man I run this rap shit Rest in piece to Biggie Smalls R.I.P. to Tupac Nigga roll that good shit You wanna dance lets dance nigga I'll take you to da prom I'm armed tre pound in my palm I'm calm Nigga
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And we've waited through the suffering and pain And bitches ride the dick like the A-train That's why I flip, keep a burner to my hip Take a hooker to the crib, you know she got to strip Stay dip, take out of state trips Don't drink a lot of Hennessy, I
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I'm just playing, but I'm saying Dreams of fucking one of these little rappers Barbie dreams R.I.P. to B.I.G Classic shit I'm looking for a nigga to give some babies A hand full of Weezy’s, a sprinkle of Dave East Man, I ain't got no type, like Jxmmi and
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