Kick in the Door (2008 Remaster)

作词 : Notorious B.I.G./Jalacy Hawkins/Chris Martin

作曲 : Notorious B.I.G./Jalacy Hawkins/Chris Martin

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, nigga

PoppaYou got ta, call me,

Francis M.

H. WhiteIn 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 beMay see me in

D.C. at Howard

Homecomin'

With my man

Capone, dumbin, niggas 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 niggas 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,

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 publi*******n',

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 niggas

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 niggas

I know you prayin' you was rich, nigga

When I see ya

I'maKick 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

JohnsonTote 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