Текст песни Notorious B. I. G. - Machine Gun Funk
Notorious B. I. G. - Machine Gun Funk слова песни
[Verse One]So you wanna be hardcoreWith your hat to the back, talkin bout the gats in your rapsBut I can`t feel that hardcore appealthat you`re screamin, baby I`m dreaminThis ain`t Christopher Williams, still someMC`s got to feel one, caps I got to peel someTo let niggaz know... that if you fuck with Big-and-HeavyI get up in that ass like a wedgieSays who? Says me, the lyricalNiggaz sayin, "Biggie off the street, it`s a miracle"Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with meJust for niggaz actin shiftySticks and stones break bones, but the gat`ll kill you quickerEspecially when I`m drunk off the liquorSmokin funk by the boxes, packin glocks isnatural to eat you niggaz like chocolatesThe funk baby Chorus (repeats 8X) "I live for the funk, I`ll die for the funk" (LOTUG, Chief Rocka) [Verse Two]All I want is bitches, big booty bitchesUsed to sell crack, so I could stack my richesNow I pack gats, to stop all the snitchesfrom stayin in my business, what is this? Relentlessapproach, to know if I`m broke or notJust cause I joke and smoke a lotDon`t mean I don`t tote the glockSixteen shots for my niggaz in the penUntil we motherfuckin meet againHuh, I`m doin rhymes now, fuck the crimes nowCome on the ave, I`m real hard to find nowCause I`m knee deep in the beatsIn the Land Cruiser Jeep with the Mac-10 by the seatsFor the jackers, the jealous ass crackers in the (car sirens)I`ll make you prove that it`s bulletproofHold ya head, cause when you hit the bricksI got gin, mad blunts, and bitches suckin dickThe funk baby Repeat chorus [Verse Three]So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-sideHow I smoked funk, smacked bitches on the backsideBed-Stuy, the place where my head restsFifty shot clip if a nigga wan` testThe rocket launcher, Biggie stomped yaHigh as a motherfuckin helicopterThat`s why I pack a nina, fuck a misdeameanorBeatin motherfuckers like Ike beat Tina[What`s Love, Got to Do]when I`m rippin all through your whole crewStrapped like bamboo, but I don`t sling gunsI got bags of funk, and it`s sellin by the tonsNiggaz wanna know, how I live the mack lifeMaking money smoking mics like crack pipesIt`s type simple and plain to maintainI add a little funk to the brainThe funk baby Repeat chorus