Kick In The Door

Welcome back

We're here on Bad Boy television, and I'm Trevin Jones

And I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper

And quite frankly, he's very mad

We're gonna TRY to find out why, so we'll take some questions

At this point from our studio audience

Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name, and where you're from

Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle

And, I just don't understand, why you so mad, (yo, yo)

Like what are you so mad about? (yo, yo, y, y, yo)

You wanna know why, yo first of all, yo first of all you can't

Be askin' me no question know what I'm sayin' who the fuck is you?

(Ah, excuse me, Mr, Rapper, Mr, Rapper) you know what I'm sayin'?

You can't be askin' me no question (It's a family oriented show,)

I'ma tell you why I'm mad, you know what I'm sayin'? I'ma tell you why

I'm mad, I'ma tell you why I'm mad, These niggaz is makin' five

Hundred thousand dollar videos, yunu sayin'? They drivi'n around in

Hot cars, yunu sayin'? They got bitches, they got all that shit

(Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language)

You know what I'm sayin'? I'm still livin' with my MOMS, you know what I'm sayin'?

That's my word, Yunusayin? I'm makin' records I ain't made no money

Yet I done made this is my fourth album yo, this my FOURTH ALBUM

I ain't made a dime yet, This nigga made one album, he makin' wild

Records, That Ready to Die shit, it was aight, it was aight

Yunumsayin, that shit was aight, it was cool, But my shit is

More John Blaze than that! I got John Blaze shit, And they not

Recognizing, they not sayin' I recognize, And fuck is that, who

Is you to be askin' me questions, you know what I'm sayin'? Who is you?

I gots to talk

I gotta tell what I feel

I gotta talk about my life as I see it

Biggie

This goes out to you

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

Uhh, 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 Dada, fuck Poppa

You got to call me Francis M H

White, intake light tokes, 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 most shady, (tell Em!) Frankie baby

Ain't no telling where

I may be, may see me in DC

At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbing

Fucking something, you should know my steelo

Went from ten Gs for blow to thirty Gs a show

To orgies with hoes I never seen before

So, Jesus, get off the Notorious'

Penis 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, waving the four-four

All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)

Kick in the door, waving the four-four (uh-huh)

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 you're marked for death

Should I start your breath or should I let you die

In fear you start to cry, ask why, lyrically

I'm worshiped, 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 publishing, I punish 'em, I'm done with them

Son, I'm surprised you run with them, I think they got

Cum in them 'cause they nothing but dicks

Trying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks

Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick

Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique

Take trips to Cairo, laying with your bitch

I know you praying you was rich, fucking prick, when I see ya I'ma

Kick in the door, waving the four-four (uh-huh)

All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (uh, uh, uh)

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)

Kick in the door, waving 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 N-Y

Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye

Now ya brailling it, snatch that light shit, I'm scaling it

Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88

Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson

Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante

You wanna get on son, you need to ask me

Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings

Nothing but my children, one shot they disappearing

It's ill when MCs 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, fragili, my nine milli

Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny

And you still recouping, stupid stupid stupid stupid