[00:00.00] 作词 : Chris Martin/Jalacy Hawkins/Notorious B.I.G.
[00:01.00] 作曲 : Chris Martin/Jalacy Hawkins/Notorious B.I.G.
[00:03.32]Welcome back
[00:04.03]We're here on Bad Boy television and I'm Trevin Jones
[00:06.41]And I've been conversing with the mad rapper
[00:08.14]And quite frankly, he's very mad
[00:10.77]We're gonna try to find out why
[00:12.69]So we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience
[00:14.50]
[00:15.15]Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name and where you're from
[00:18.53]Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle
[00:21.25]And I just don't understand, why you so mad
[00:24.48]Like what are you so mad about?
[00:26.31]You wanna know why, yo first of all
[00:27.94]Be askin' me no question kno' what I'm sayin' who the **** is you?
[00:29.85]You kno' what I'm sayin'?
[00:30.73]You can't be askin' me no question
[00:31.61]I'ma tell you why I'm mad, you kno' what I'm sayin'?
[00:33.23]I'ma tell you why I'm mad, I'ma tell you why I'm mad
[00:35.02]These niggas is makin' five hundred thousand dollar videos
[00:37.26]You know you sayin', they drivin' around in hot cars,
[00:39.20]Yuu know you sayin', they got b*****s, they got all that shit
[00:41.67]You kno' what I'm sayin', I'm still livin' with my moms
[00:43.50]You kno' what I'm sayin', that's my word
[00:44.68]You know you saying, I'm makin' records, I ain't made no money
[00:46.54]Yet I done made this is my fourth album yo, this my fourth album
[00:50.75]I ain't made a dime yet
[00:51.61]This nigga made one album, he makin' wild records
[00:53.67]That Ready to Die shit, it was aight, it was aight
[00:55.45]You know I'm sayin', that shit was aight, it was cool
[00:57.62]But my shit is more John Blaze than that, I got John Blaze shit
[01:00.14]
[01:01.10]And they not recognizing, they not sayin' I recognize
[01:03.34]And shit is that, who is you to be askin' me questions
[01:05.21]You kno' what I'm sayin', who is you?
[01:06.71]I gots to talk, I gotta tell what I feel
[01:09.07]I gotta talk about my life as I see it
[01:11.52]
[01:18.43]This goes out to you
[01:19.39]
[01:21.08]This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you
[01:26.40]This goes out to you
[01:29.03]This goes out to you
[01:31.70]This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you
[01:35.71]Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns
[01:37.38]
[01:37.95]As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons
[01:40.19]
[01:41.13]Get in that ass, quick fast like ramadan
[01:43.25]It's that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, **** Poppa
[01:46.71]You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White
[01:49.36]In tank-light totes, tote iron
[01:51.40]Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin'
[01:54.23]Keep extra clips for extra shit
[01:56.29]Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap
[01:59.14]The mo shady, "Tell em", Frankie baby
[02:01.63]Ain't no tellin' where I may be
[02:03.04]May see me in D.C. at Howard Homecomin'
[02:05.85]With my man Capone, dumbin, ****ing somethin'
[02:08.12]You should know my steelo
[02:09.84]Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show
[02:12.63]To orgies with hoes I never seen befo'
[02:15.20]So, Jesus, get off the Notorious
[02:17.47]
[02:18.46]Nigga, before I squeeze and bust
[02:20.35]If the beef between us, we can settle it
[02:22.74]With the chrome and metal shit
[02:24.20]I make it hot, like a kettle get
[02:25.84]You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?
[02:28.45]You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure
[02:31.46]Biggie, "How are you gonna do it?"
[02:34.29]Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
[02:36.64]All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
[02:39.33]Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
[02:41.89]All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
[02:44.68]Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
[02:47.26]All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
[02:49.99]Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
[02:52.66]All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
[02:55.36]On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet
[02:57.77]Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death
[03:00.22]Should I start your breath or should I let you die?
[03:03.13]In fear you start to cry, ask why
[03:05.28]Lyrically, I'm worshipped, don't front the word sick
[03:08.52]You cursed it, but rehearsed it
[03:10.33]I drop unexpectedly like bird shit
[03:12.46]You herbs get stuck quickly for royalties and show money
[03:16.29]Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em, I'm done with them
[03:19.53]Son, I'm surprised you run with them
[03:21.48]I think they got cum in them 'cuz they nothin' but d**ks
[03:24.30]Tryin' to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks
[03:27.20]Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick
[03:29.84]Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click
[03:32.44]Take trips to Cairo, layin' with yo b***h
[03:34.96]I know you prayin' you was rich, mother****in' prick
[03:37.01]When I see ya I'ma
[03:38.10]Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
[03:40.47]All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
[03:43.25]Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
[03:45.66]All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
[03:48.60]Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
[03:51.36]All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
[03:53.93]Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
[03:56.68]All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
[03:59.35]This goes out for those that choose to use
[04:01.52]Disrespectful views on the King of NY
[04:04.34]**** that, why try, throw bleach in your eye
[04:07.08]Now ya Braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin' it
[04:10.11]Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight
[04:11.85]
[04:12.67]Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson
[04:14.78]
[04:15.30]Tote steel like Bronson, vigilante
[04:17.21]
[04:17.94]You wanna get on son, you need to ask me
[04:20.67]Ain't no other king in this rap thing
[04:22.64]They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren
[04:24.51]One shot, they disappearin'
[04:25.58]
[04:26.15]It's ill when MC's used to be on cruddy shit
[04:28.78]Took home, Ready to Die, listened, studied shit
[04:31.36]Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue
[04:33.95]They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly
[04:36.54]Make the white shake, that's why my money never funny
[04:39.25]And you still recoupin', stupid

作词 : Chris Martin/Jalacy Hawkins/Notorious B.I.G.
作曲 : Chris Martin/Jalacy Hawkins/Notorious B.I.G.
Welcome back
We're here on Bad Boy television and I'm Trevin Jones
And I've been conversing with the mad rapper
And quite frankly, he's very mad
We're gonna try to find out why
So we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience
Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name and where you're from
Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle
And I just don't understand, why you so mad
Like what are you so mad about?
You wanna know why, yo first of all
Be askin' me no question kno' what I'm sayin' who the **** is you?
You kno' what I'm sayin'?
You can't be askin' me no question
I'ma tell you why I'm mad, you kno' what I'm sayin'?
I'ma tell you why I'm mad, I'ma tell you why I'm mad
These niggas is makin' five hundred thousand dollar videos
You know you sayin', they drivin' around in hot cars,
Yuu know you sayin', they got b*****s, they got all that shit
You kno' what I'm sayin', I'm still livin' with my moms
You kno' what I'm sayin', that's my word
You know you saying, I'm makin' records, I ain't made no money
Yet I done made this is my fourth album yo, this my fourth album
I ain't made a dime yet
This nigga made one album, he makin' wild records
That Ready to Die shit, it was aight, it was aight
You know I'm sayin', that shit was aight, it was cool
But my shit is more John Blaze than that, I got John Blaze shit
And they not recognizing, they not sayin' I recognize
And shit is that, who is you to be askin' me questions
You kno' what I'm sayin', who is you?
I gots to talk, I gotta tell what I feel
I gotta talk about my life as I see it
This goes out to you
This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you
This goes out to you
This goes out to you
This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you
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 ramadan
It's that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, **** Poppa
You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White
In tank-light totes, tote iron
Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin'
Keep extra clips for extra shit
Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap
The mo shady, "Tell em", Frankie baby
Ain't no tellin' where I may be
May see me in D.C. at Howard Homecomin'
With my man Capone, dumbin, ****ing somethin'
You should know my steelo
Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show
To orgies with hoes I never seen befo'
So, Jesus, get off the Notorious
Nigga, before I squeeze and bust
If the beef between us, we can settle it
With the chrome and metal shit
I make it hot, like a kettle get
You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?
You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure
Biggie, "How are you gonna do it?"
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet
Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death
Should I start your breath or should I let you die?
In fear you start to cry, ask why
Lyrically, I'm worshipped, don't front the word sick
You cursed it, but rehearsed it
I drop unexpectedly like bird shit
You herbs get stuck quickly for royalties and show money
Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em, I'm done with them
Son, I'm surprised you run with them
I think they got cum in them 'cuz they nothin' but d**ks
Tryin' to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks
Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick
Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click
Take trips to Cairo, layin' with yo b***h
I know you prayin' you was rich, mother****in' prick
When I see ya I'ma
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
This goes out for those that choose to use
Disrespectful views on the King of NY
**** that, why try, throw bleach in your eye
Now ya Braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin' it
Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight
Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson
Tote steel like Bronson, vigilante
You wanna get on son, you need to ask me
Ain't no other king in this rap thing
They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren
One shot, they disappearin'
It's ill when MC's used to be on cruddy shit
Took home, Ready to Die, listened, studied shit
Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue
They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly
Make the white shake, that's why my money never funny
And you still recoupin', stupid