Kick In The Door

<br>Welcome back. *audience applauds*<br>We`re here on Bad Boy television, and I`m Trevin Jones<br>and I`ve been conversing with the Mad Rapper.<br>And quite frankly -- he`s very mad.<br>We`re gonna TRY to find out why; so we`ll take some questions<br>at this point from our studio audience.<br>Yes ma`am, please stand and state your name, and where you`re from.<br><br> Hi, my name is Shay, and I`m from New Rochelle<br> and, I just don`t understand, why you so mad. (yo, yo)<br> Like what are you so mad about? (yo, yo, y-y-yo)<br><br>You wanna know why, yo first of all, yo first of all you can`t<br>be askin me no question knowhatI`msayin who the fuck is you?<br>(Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper.) YouknowhatI`msayin?<br>You can`t be askin me no question (It`s a family oriented show.)<br>I`ma tell you why I`m mad, youknowhatI`msayin? I`ma tell you why<br>I`m mad. I`ma tell you why I`m mad. These niggaz is makin five<br>hundred thousand dollar videos, yunusayin? They drivin around in<br>hot cars, yunusayin? They got bitches, they got all that shit.<br>(Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language.)<br>YouknowhatI`msayin? I`m still livin with my MOMS, youknowhatI`msayin?<br>That`s my word. Yunusayin? I`m makin records I ain`t made no money<br>yet I done made this is my fourth album yo, this my FOURTH ALBUM.<br>I ain`t made a dime yet. This nigga made one album, he makin wild<br>records. That Ready to Die shit, it was aight, it was aight,<br>yunumsayin, that shit was aight, it was cool. But my shit is<br>more John Blaze than that! I got John Blaze shit. And they not<br>recognizing, they not sayin I recognize. And fuck is that, who<br>is you to be askin me questions, youknowhatI`msayin? Who is you?<br>*Mad Rapper fades out*<br><br>[cut and scratched "I gots to talk. I gotta tell what I feel.<br> I gotta talk about my life as I see it!"]<br><br>Intro: repeat 2X (`Biggie` repeats every line of beat)<br><br>This goes out to you<br>This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you<br><br>Verse One:<br><br>Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns<br>As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons<br>Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan<br>Its that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa<br>You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White<br>in tank-light totes, tote iron<br>Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin<br>Keep extra clips for extra shit<br>Who`s next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap<br>The mo shady, "Tell em!", Frankie baby<br>Ain`t no tellin where I may be<br>May see me in D.C. at Howard Homecomin<br>with my man Capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin<br>You should know my steelo<br>Went from ten G`s for blow to thirty G`s a show<br>to orgies with hoes I never seen befo`<br>so, Jesus, get off the Notorious<br>penis, before I squeeze and bust<br>If the beef between us, we can settle it<br>With the chrome and metal shit<br>I make it hot, like a kettle get<br>You`re delicate, you better get, who sent ya?<br>You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure<br>Biggie, "How are you gonna do it?"<br><br>Chorus: repeat 4X<br><br>Kick in the door, wavin the four-four<br>All you heard was Poppa don`t hit me no more<br><br>Verse Two:<br><br>On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet<br>Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death<br>Should I start your breath should I let you die<br>In fear you start to cry, ask why<br>Lyrically, I`m worser, don`t front the word sick<br>You cursed it, but rehearsed it<br>I drop unexpectedly like bird shit<br>You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money<br>Don`t forget the publishin, I punish em, I`m done with them<br>Son, I`m surprised you run with them<br>I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks<br>Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks<br>Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that`s sick<br>Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click<br>Take trips to Cairo, layin with yo bitch<br>I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick<br>When I see ya I`ma<br><br>Chorus<br><br>Verse Three:<br><br>This goes out for those that choose to use<br>Disrespectful views on the King of NY<br>Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye<br>Now ya Braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it<br>Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight <br>Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson<br>Tote steel like Bronson, vigilante<br>You wanna get on son, you need to ask me<br>Ain`t no other king in this rap thing<br>They siblings, nothing but my chil`ren<br>One shot, they disappearin<br>Its ill when, MC`s used to be on cruddy shit<br>Took home, Ready to Die, listened, studied shit<br>Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue<br>They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly<br>make the white shake, thats why my money never funny<br>And you still recoupin, stupid *echoes*