Gimme the Loot

Notorious B.I.G.

  • 																					Yeah. Motherfuckers better know... huh, huh. Lock your windows,
    close your doors. Biggie Smalls, huh...yeah.

    Verse One:

    My man Inf left a Tec and a nine at my crib
    Turned himself in, he had to do a bid
    A one-to-three, he be home the end of '93
    I'm ready to get this paper, G, you with me?

    Motherfucking right, my pocket's looking kind of tight
    and I'm stressed, yo Biggie let me get the vest

    No need for that, just grab the fucking gat
    The first pocket that's fat the Tec is to his back
    Word is bond, I'm a smoke him yo don't fake no moves (what?)
    Treat it like boxing: stick and move, stick and move

    Nigga, you ain't got to explain shit
    I've been robbin motherfuckers since the slave ships
    with the same clip and the same four-five
    Two point-blank, a motherfucker's sure to die
    That's my word, nigga even try to bogart
    have his mother singing "It's so hard..."

    Yes, love love you're fucking attitude
    because the nigga play pussy that's the nigga that's getting screwed
    and bruised up from the pistol whipping
    welts on the neck from the necklace stripping
    Then I'm dipping up the block and I'm robbing bitches too
    up the herring bones and bamboos
    I wouldn't give fuck if you're pregnant
    Give me the baby rings and a #1 Mom pendant

    I'm slamming niggaz like Shaquille, shit is real
    When it's time to eat a meal I rob and steal
    'cos Mom Duke ain't giving me shit
    so for the bread and butter I leave niggaz in the gutter
    Huh, word to mother, I'm dangerous
    Crazier than a bag of fucking Angel Dust
    When I bust my gat motherfuckers take dirt naps
    I'm all that and a dime sack, where the paper at?
    (*sample* "But he's sticking you, and taking all of your money..")

    [Chorus 8x]
    Gimme the loot, gimme the loot
    (*scratching* "I'm a bad, bad, boy..")

    Verse Two:

    Big up, big up, it's a stick up, stick up
    and I'm shooting niggaz quick if you hiccup
    Don't let me fill my clip up in your back and head piece
    The opposite of peace sending Mom Deuke a wreath
    You're talking to the robbery expert
    Stepping to your wake with your blood on my shirt
    Don't be a jerk and get smoked over being resistant
    'cos when I lick shots the shits is persistent

    Huh, goodness gracious the papers
    Where the cash at? Where the stash at?
    Nigga, pass that before you get your grave dug
    from the main thug, .357 slug
    And my nigga Biggie got an itchy one grip

    One in the chamber, 32 in the clip
    Motherfuckers better strip, yeah nigga peel
    before you find out how blue steel feel

    from the Beretta, putting all the holes in your sweater
    The money getter motherfuckers don't have better
    Rolex watches and colourful Swatches
    I'm digging in pockets, motherfuckers can't stop it

    Man, niggaz come through I'm taking high school rings too
    Bitches get strangled for they earrings and bangles
    and when I rock her and drop her I'm taking her door knockers
    And if she's resistant "baka! baka! baka!"

    So go get your man bitch he can get robbed too

    Tell him Biggie took it, what the fuck he gonna do?

    I hope apologetic or I'm a have to set it
    and if I set it the cocksucker won't forget it
    (*sample* "But he's sticking you, and taking all of your money..")

    [Chorus 8x]
    Gimme the loot, gimme the loot
    (*scratching* "I'm a bad, bad, boy..")


    Verse Three:

    Man, listen all this walking is hurting my feet
    But money looks sweet (where at?) in the Isuzu jeep

    Man, I throw him in the Beem, you grab the fucking C.R.E.A.M
    and if he start to scream "bam! bam!", have a nice dream
    Hold up, he got a fucking bitch in the car
    Fur coats and diamonds, she thinks she a superstar

    Ooh Biggie, let me jack her, I kick her in the back
    Hit her with the gat...

    Yo chill, Shorty, let me do that...
    Just get the fucking car keys and cruise up the block
    The bitch act shocked, gettin shot on the spot
    (Oh shit! The cops!) Be cool, fool
    They ain't gonna roll up, all they want is fucking doughnuts
    (So why the fuck he keep lookin?) I guess to get his life tooken
    I just came home, ain't trying to see Central Booking
    Oh shit, now he lookin in my face
    You better haul ass 'cos I ain't with no fucking chase
    So lace up your boots, 'cos I'm about to shoot
    A true motherfucker going out for the loot

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