"Where Brooklyn at?" (repeated) - The Notorious B.I.G. (sample)
[Intro: Bad Luck]
Uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, Bad Luck (All Day)
(Bad Luck, Bad Luck) Frontline leg mob
I see you Math, turn me up in the headphone
We here, let's go...
Let's get down to business, BK, stand up
[Chorus 2X: Bad Luck]
Yo, ya'll niggas talk a thug life, but ya'll dont live it, nigga
For every tear that I cry, ya'll gonna feel it, nigga
For everybody that dies, ya'll gonna get it, nigga
It's like B.I.G. still alive, I feel your spirit, nigga
[Bad Luck]
They got me moving one pace at a time, man I'm out stuck on my grind
Stay clutching my nine, murder-murder, stay on my mind
I'm a twin-nine toter, boy, stay soldier, boy
Nigga want beef, from out of search, going overboard
Letting that forty off like I don't even know the lord
Local gangmember, you can catch me at your corner store
Uh, end this before your eyes can blink
I'll have two liters of blood spilling out of your mink
Like tell me who gon' test 'em, I'm affiliated with niggas
With bullets the size of sneakers, to stop the heart of gorillas
Gotta pardon us killas, but these niggas don't damn listen
Never get the picture, til they find one of there man's missing
Til somebody find they fam fishing, you know the rules
Live from an underboss, awaken with your hands missing
Lock what I wanna lock, pop who I wanna pop
Give a nigga face more cuts than a barbershop
[Chorus 2X]
[All Day]
Crime time for that 187, hammer cock, clutching my weapon
I'mma gangsta, show me a baller and I'mma bless 'em
They call me the legend, killa scared to be in my presence
Get it poppin' with them old school berettas and smith and wessons
The bigger they are, the harder you fall
That's why I stand with some little niggas that'll murder ya'll off
Keep my hand on the four, thug life abandon the law
So I keep a couple of vests and extra hammers for war
Y'all niggas talk a thug life, but ya'll don't live it
My hammer'll cock, ya body'll drop, in a New York minute
Don't get this rap shit twisted, you killas that clap biscuits
Run up out of banks with bandanas and black fitteds
I'mma gangsta, specialize in letting that thang go
Frontline soldier get it popping like Draino
I'm old school like Cool J and his Kangol
I switch up styles while you stuck with the same flow, yeah
[Chorus 2X]
[Bad Luck]
Aiyo, it's poppin', man, it's happening, calicos, I'm packin 'em
Fake niggas I'm clappin 'em, broke niggas, I laugh at 'em
Bum bitches, I'm smackin' 'em, go and get your man
But the car and all be wrappin' 'em, gun game extravagent
The banged out and faragent, son came to Maryland
Ya'll ain't gon' feel my pain til them hot shells is traveling
Nope, I'm not battling, dope, thank you asking 'em
And don't get out of line, cuz we keep a gun in the mat' for them
[All Day]
Dope spots, I'm rushing 'em, four-pounds, I'm clutching 'em
And if I'm clutching 'em, best believe a nigga busting them
Still fucking with Luck and them, riding in a truck with them
Goes my niggas, til I die, always I put my trust in them
Hoe bitches I'm fucking 'em, ya'll niggas in love with them
Got them selling nickel for twenties, them bitches bubbling
My bitches is doubling, ya'll niggas is crumbling
Mind on my money, like Snoop, Daz, and Kurupt and them
[Chorus 2X]
"Where Brooklyn at?" (repeated) - The Notorious B.I.G. (sample)
