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Jay-Z and Notorious B.I.G.

Reasonable Doubt

645 3 часа назад

Текст песни Jay-Z and Notorious B.I.G. - Reasonable Doubt

Jay-Z and Notorious B.I.G. - Reasonable Doubt слова песни

[Pain In Da Ass] {*gunshots*} OKAY, I`M RELOADED!!! You motherfuckers, think you big time? Fuckin with Jay-Z, you gon` die, big time!Here come the "Pain"! {*gunshots*}[Jay-Z]Jigga... (Jigga), Bigga... (Bigga)Nigga, how you figure... (how you figure)Yeah, yeah, yeah, aiyyoPeep the style and the way the cops sweat us (uh-huh)The number one question is can the Feds get us (uh-huh)I got vendettas in dice games against ass betters (uh-huh)and niggaz who pump wheels and drive JettasTake that witcha..[Notorious B.I.G.].. hit ya, back split yaFuck fist fights and lame scufflesPillow case to your face, make the shell muffleShoot your daughter in the calf muscleFuck a tussle, nickel-plated Sprinkle coke on the floor, make it drug relatedMost hate it..[Jay-Z].. can`t fade itWhile y`all pump Willie, I run up in stunts sillyScared, so you sent your little mans to come kill me But on the contrilli, I packs the mack-milli Squeezed off on him, left them paramedics breathin soft on him What`s ya name?[Notorious B.I.G.].. Who shot ya? Mob ties like SinatraPeruvians tried to do me in, I ain`t paid them yetTryin to push 700`s, they ain`t made them yetRolex and bracelets is frostbit; rings tooNiggaz `round the way call me Igloo Stix (Who?)Motherfucker![Chorus]Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers(Where you from?) Brooklyn, goin out for allMarcy - that`s right - you don`t stopBed-Stuy.. you won`t stop, nigga![Jay-Z]What, what, what?Jay-Z, Big` Smalls, nigga shit ya drawersBrooklyn represent y`all, hit you foldYou crazy, think your little bit of rhymes can play me?I`m from Marcy, I`m varsity, chump, you`re JV(Jigga) Jay-Z[Notorious B.I.G.].. and Bigga baby! My Bed-Stuy flow`s malicious, deliciousFuck three wishes, made my road to richesfrom 62`s, gem stars, my moms dishesGram choppin, police van dockinD`s at my doors knockin[Jay-Z]What? Keep rockinNo more, Mister, Nice Guy, I twist your shit the fuck back with them pistols, blazinHot like cajunHotter than even holdin work at the Days Innwith New York plates outsideGet up outta there, fuck your ride[Notorious B.I.G.]Keep your hands high, shit gets steeperHere comes the Grim Reaper, Frank WrightLeave the keys to your In-tegra (That`s right)Chill homie, the bitch in the Shoney`s told meYou`re holdin more drugs than a pharmacy, you ain`t harmin meSo pardon me, pass the safe, before I blaze the place and here`s six shots just in case(Brooklyn... Brooklyn... Brooklyn...)[Chorus]Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers(Where you from?) Brooklyn goin out to all(Crown Heights...) You don`t stop(Brownsville...) You won`t stop, nigga!(Brooklyn... Brooklyn... Brooklyn...)Hah hah! Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers(Where we from?) Brooklyn goin out to all(Bushwick...) You don`t stop(Fort Greene...) You won`t stop, niggaz![Jay-Z]Yeah, yeah, yeah

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