Uhhh, uhhh, uh, c'mon Hah, sicka than your average Poppa Twist cabbage off instinct niggaz don't think shit stink pink gators, my Detroit players Timbs for my hooligans in Brooklyn Dead right, if the head right, Biggie there ery'night Poppa been smooth since days of Underroos Never lose, never choose to, bruise crews who do something to us, talk go through us Girls walk to us, wanna do us, screw us Who us? Yeah, Poppa and Puff (ehehehe) Close like Starsky and Hutch, stick the clutch Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M-3 (Take that, take that, take that, haha!) Bang every MC easily, busily Recently niggaz frontin ain't sayin nuttin (nope) So I just speak my piece, (c'mon) keep my piece Cubans with the Jesus piece (thank you God), with my peeps Packin, askin who want it, you got it nigga flaunt it That Brooklyn bullshit, we on it Chorus: sung in imitation of part of Slick Rick's "La-Di-Da-Di" Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hypnotize) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (hah)