Kick In The Door (2008 Remaster) - The Notorious B.I.G.

Lyrics by：C. Martin/C. Wallace/J. Hawkins

Produced by：DJ Premier

Biggie

Biggie

Uh aha aha

Uhh

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

Biggie

This goes out to you and you and you uh

Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns

As I crush so-called willies thugs and rapper-dons

Get in that quick fast like ramadan

It's that rap phenomenon don dadda poppa

You got ta call me Francis MH White

In tank-light totes tote

Was told in shootouts stay low and keep firin'

Keep extra clips for extra

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 DC at Howard Homecomin'

With my man Capone dumbin somethin'

You should know my steelo

Went from ten G's to thirty G's a show

To I never seen befo'

So Jesus get off the Notorious

Before I squeeze and bust

If the beef between us we can settle it

With the chrome and metal

I make it hot like a kettle get

You're delicate you better get who sent ya

You still pedal 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

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 them 'cuz they nothin' but

Tryin' to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks

Mad I smoke rock diamonds that's sick

Got pay off my flow rhyme with my own click

Take trips to Cairo layin' with yo

I know you prayin' you was rich 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 or scalin' it

Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight

Sold more 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

Took home ready to Die listened studied

Now they on some money 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

Stupid

Stupid

Stupid

Stupid