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Rap Phenomenon Lyrics

from Born Again

"Rap Phenomenon" is track #8 on the album Born Again. It was written by Martin, Christopher E / Wallace, Christopher / Noble, Reggie / Smith, Clifford / Gamble, Kenneth / Bell, Thomas Randolph / Lee, Ike / Lee, Tracy / Chambers, Roland Lawrence.
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"Rap Phenomenon" is track #8 on the album Born Again. It was written by Martin, Christopher E / Wallace, Christopher / Noble, Reggie / Smith, Clifford / Gamble, Kenneth / Bell, Thomas Randolph / Lee, Ike / Lee, Tracy / Chambers, Roland Lawrence.
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Well it's the Funk Docta Spock
Meth-Tical
Biggie, Biggie
Uhh uhh uhh
Yo c'mon Big
Uhh

Fuck that, I preach it, my nine reaches
The prestigious cats that speak this, Willie shit
Flooded pieces, my hand releases, snatches
Smack ya cabbage, half-ass rappers shouldn't have it
So I grab it, never run, an outcome is usually a beatdown brutally
Fuck who you be or where you're from, West or East coast
Squeeze toast, leave most in the blood they layin in, what, what?

The rings and things you sing about, bring 'em out
It's hard to yell when the barrel's in your mouth
It's more than I expected, I thought your jewels was rented
But they wasn't, so run it, cousin
I could chill, the heat doesn't, ran up in your shell about a dozen
You never see bank like Frank White
Your hand clutchin', your chest-plate contemplate
You 'bout to die, nigga wait, keep yo' hands high

Yo, yo yo
I don't brownnose out of town hoes
I'm up around fo' with the crowbar to the five point O
I get bagged, I'm John Doe, suspect
You ass like prime roastin', Calvin Klein clothes
Explode the pyros when Doc guest appear
I'm out there, I bought it with George Jetson here
Your time is near, so get your body dropped off
I stopped trustin' niggaz since Gotti got caught

It's Bricks keep your wrist covered or piss colored
By the waist got a gun as dark as Kris brother
I.C.U., my sheisty crew like ice me too
I break your legs, leave your eyes slightly blue
The Doc was born with a grenade palm
I'm concurrent in your hood like a teenage mom
Yo Biggie
What? what?
She havin' my baby
If I pull out the A.K., keep your hands high

This rule is so underrated
Actin' as if it can't happen, you're frontin'
Ain't no other kings in this rap thing
Biggie, a motherfuckin' rap phenomenon

This rule is so underrated
Actin' as if it can't happen, you're frontin'
Ain't no other kings in this rap thing
Biggie, a motherfuckin' rap phenomenon

Uhh, uhh
I got a new mouth to feed, I'm due South with keys
Y'all pick seeds out y'all weed, I watch cowards bleed
Motherfucker please, it's my block with my rocks
Fuck that hip-hop, them one-two's and you don't stops
Me and my nigga Lance, took Kim and Cee's advance
Bought ten bricks, four pounds of weed plants
From Branson, now we lampin', twelve room mansion
Bitches get naked off, "Get Money", "Player's Anthem"

Don't forget, "One More Chance" and my other hits, other shit
Niggaz spit be counterfeit, robbery come actually
In and out like fuckin' rapidly, pass the gat to me
Make his chest rest, where his back should be, talkin' blasphemy
Blastin' me, your family, rest in coffins often
Frank Wizzard, far from soft or fragilla
Play hard like Reggie Miller, rapper, slash dope dealer
Slash Gorilla, slash illest turned killer

Now now
Don't approach me with that rah rah shit, you out of pocket
I take these adolescents back to Spofford
Mentally my energy is like a figure eight on it's side
That's infinity too many sick niggaz, nickel nines
Bring the remedy when you play the field, what's the penalty
Unnecessary roughness, career endin' injuries for suckers
Stuck on stupid, shoot 'em with a dart like Cupid
Until they got love for my music

Star Wars I'm Han Solo, with three egoes
And three charges, I got to "See-three-P.O.'s"
This is whoop-yo'-ass-day, the sequel
Eyeball blower with no equal, niggaz swingin' swords in the war
That's my people, sho' nuff, befo' I roll up
This is a hold up, hands high, reach for the sky
I rep S.I., the unpretty, word to Left Eye
New York Shitty, put they weight on it

And who better for the job than Biggie? The Notorious Jee-zus
"Unbelievable" rhyme that reaches and touch individual
Small frame buck and change
MC, What's-Your-Name, tuck your chain
All about the fortune, fuck the fame, labels still extortin'
Kick me when I'm down, but I'm up again, scorchin'
Hot, forcin' my way up in the door to kill the bullshit like a matador
Keep your hands high
What?

Songwriters
Martin, Christopher E / Wallace, Christopher / Noble, Reggie / Smith, Clifford / Gamble, Kenneth / Bell, Thomas Randolph / Lee, Ike / Lee, Tracy / Chambers, Roland Lawrence

Published by
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group

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