Microphone Murderer Lyrics
Yo we got DJ 50 Grand, Big D, RC and Money and the undisputed B.I.G. that’s me
A whole lotta niggas want BIG to make a demo tape especially that bum ass nigga “R” this going out to you nigga recognize yo 50 what’s this?
Microphone murderer mass mayhem maker
B.I.G. is on the mic call the undertaker
Make and appointment, schedule an interview
Because you know what big mans about to do
50 Grand on the technique at the right peak
Brothers wanna hear the words big man speak
The microphone im rippin’
The burner got the clippin’
Slammin’ MCs like Scottie Pippen
Sippin’ on oh go cold is the rhyme you stole
Puffin' on dime bags and I’ve been told
My words are harder than a brick, chinese arithmetic
A thick stick and my dick
Makes me sick when you pick the wick whack rhyme G
You’re temperature is pumpin’ its tic tac times C
The B.I.G. moves swifter than a ninja
Even on stick ups im the masked avenger
Keep my eyes open and the case closed
No eyewitnesses no names I expose
Just the heavy set one with the big gun
And the sweet tongue shaking down everyone
Loot like micheal Jackson
Kicks like bo Jackson
Bitches like freddy Jackson
No need to aks and
The crew ooh no frontin’ no faking moves
Fighting and fucking the same thing we “stick and move”
Smack the fool and disagree
Recognize the pedigree
Rhyme is mine ‘cause I said it’s me
Step to a big man grippin’ the mic stand
Keep a bank roll and so do 50 Grand
And, I give you my hand ‘cause you deserve a pound
Try to flaunt the spot in my part of town
Raise because you get no praise
I treat you like a derelict with aids
Recognize I don’t fuck with the same eyes
BIG down with OGB
Oh go brothers for the others that missed me
The crew stay deep on Bedford and Quincy
Knives in the pocket for a quick hand to hand
You wanna tempt me more theres a tec in the garbage can
I pull bitches like Kim Fields, Brooke Shields
Shelly Long, Kaity Tong I can go on and on
Word is born I’m a don
I spin em and run up in em I fuck em and then I stuck em
I hit em in the shitta and forget her
And it gets better, B.I.G. are the letters
Niggas know the pedder
That’s the end? What you want me to do damn…
