Burt Bacharach
Warning (Clean Version)
[Produced by Easy Mo Bee]
[Intro]
Stick me for my paper..
Stick me for my paper..
Stick me for my paper..
[Verse 1: The Notorious B.I.G. & Pop]
Who the hell is this, pagin' me at 5:46 in the morning?
Crack of dawn and now I'm yawnin'
Wipe the cold out my eye
See who's this pagin' me, and why
It's my man Pop from the barbershop
Told me he was in the gambling spot and heard the intricate plot
Some people wanna stick me like flypaper, neighbor
Slow down, love, please chill, drop the caper
Remember all you peoples from the hill up in Brownsville
That you rollеd dice with, smoked stnulb and got nice with?
Yеah, little Fame up in Prospect
Nah, them my peoples, nah, love, wouldn't disrespect
I didn't say them
They schooled me to some chumps that you knew from back when
When you was clockin' minor figures
Now they heard you're blowin' up like nitro
And they wanna stick the knife through your windpipe slow
So, thank Fame for warnin' me, 'cause now I'm warnin' you
I got the MAC, Biggie, tell me what you gonna do
[Hook]
Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper?
Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper?
Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper?
Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper?
[Verse 2: The Notorious B.I.G. & Pop]
They heard about the Rolexes and the Lexus
With the Texas license plates out of state
They heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown
And they heard you got half of Virginia locked down
They even heard about the crib
You bought your moms out in Florida, the Fifth Corridor
Call the coroner!
There's gonna be a lot of slow singin' and flower-bringin'
If my burglar alarm starts ringin'
What ya think all the snug is for?
All-purpose war, got the Rottweilers by the door
And I feed 'em nugpowder so they can devour
The criminals tryin' to drop my decimals
Damn, people wanna stick me for my cream
And it ain't a dream, things ain't always what it seem
It's the ones that smoke stnulb with ya, see your picture
Now they wanna grab they guns and come and get ya
Bet ya Biggie won't slip
I got the Calico with the black talons loaded in the clip
So I can rip through the ligaments
Put they bodies in a bad predicament
Where all the foul people went
Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta
Buck what I'ma hit you with, your first reaction is to duck
I bring pain, bloodstains on what remains
Of his jacket, he had a nug, he shoulda packed it
Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket
So I can reload and explode on your (reversed)
I mess around and get hardcore
C-4 to your door, no beef no more
Feel the rough, scandalous
The more deew smoke I puff, the more dangerous
I don't give a damn about you or your weak crew
What you gonna do when Big Poppa come for you?
I'm not runnin', chump, I bust my gun and
Hold on, I hear somebody comin'