Intro: repeat 2x 
This goes out to you 
This goes out to you  and you  and you  and you 
Verse one: 
Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns 
As i crush so called willies  thugs  and rapper dons 
Get in that ass  quick fast  like romma don 
Its that rap phenomenon 
Don dadda  fuck poppa 
You got ta  call me  francis m.h. white 
In tank light totes  tote eyein 
Was told in shootout 
Stay low, and keep firin 
Keep extra clips for extra shit 
Whoand's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rack 
The mo shady, cranky baby 
Ainand't no tellin where i may be 
May see me in dc at howard homes 
Comin, with my man capone, dummin, fuckin somethin 
You should know my stilo 
Went from 10 gand's for blow to 30 gs a show 
To orgies with hoes i never seen before 
So, jesus, get off the notorious penis 
Before i squeeze and bust 
If theres beef between us 
We can settle it 
With that chrome-metal shit 
I make it hot, like a kettle get 
Youand're delicate, you better get 
Who sent ya? 
Youand're still peddle shit 
I got more rides than great adventure 
Biggie 
Chorus: repeat 4x 
Kick in the door wavin the four-four 
All you heard was poppa donand't hit no more 
Verse two: 
On ya mark, get set 
When i spark, ya wet 
Look how dark it get 
When ya marked with death 
Should i start ya breath 
Or should i let you die 
In fear you start to cry, ask why 
Lyrically, iand'm worser 
Donand't front the word sick 
You cursed it, but rehearsed it 
I drop unexpectedly like bird shit 
You perps get, stuck quickly for raw tease and show money 
Donand't forget the publishin 
I punish em 
Iand'm done with them 
Son, iand'm surprised you run with them 
I think they got cum in them 
Cuz they, nothin but dicks 
Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks 
Man i smoke hydro rock diamonds, thats sick 
Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own clique 
Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch 
I know you prayin you was rich 
Fuckin prick 
When i see ya iand'ma 
Chorus 
Verse three: 
This goes out to those that choose to use 
Disrespectful view on the king of ny 
Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in ya eye 
Now ya brailleand'in it, stash that light shit 
Or scalin it 
Conscience of ya nonsense in 88, 
Sold more powder than johnson and johnson 
Tote steel like bronson 
Vigilante 
You wanna get on son, you need to ask me 
Ainand't no other king in this rap thing 
They siblings 
Nothing but maturin, one shot, they disappearin 
Its ill when, mcand's used to be on crazy shit 
Took home, ready to die, listen, study shit 
Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue 
They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly 
Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny 
And you still recoupin, stupid