[Intro: The Notorious B.I.G.]
It's some Junior Mafia shit right here
We just gonna set it off
We's know the deal
This shit is real
On this end, uh
Shit is real on this end
No friends, J-M
(Shit it real on this end)
Shit is real on this end
(Shit is real on this end)
No friends, J-M
[Verse 1: Trife]
Got into my mind, shit is smoked up, my sight is blind
Cock back the nine 'cause I might not like what I find
Murders I seen, killer fiend
Through the endosheen mean burst into flying guilotine
Hennesey I sip 'til I'm ripped
Iron the gun and slip exhale hollow tips
With my pointer angle, this must be the devil's triangle
Confused, so I mangle, demons I had to strangle
Professional hitman and so they guns, multi clips
I grab my gats, cock, go back and let him pull it
[Verse 2: Larceny]
I said I'll rough a real bitch, nigga, you better back up
With the four-four devil loaded, so motherfuckers slack up
I shit the raps and craps, give me my snaps
Bitches wanting the claps 'cause I'm leaving 'em with fucking gaps
I write rhymes, the game mind, the maintain mind
The rag around my head is for the gang sign
So with the bottom lick the sha body shody
Fear nobody adolescence catching fucking bodies
On all you bitches, gang-bangers, snitches
I get so fucked up I don't know, which, which, is which is
Larceny's a part of me, trifling is stifling, MC's on they ass
Two snakes in the fucking grass, nigga
[Interlude: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Do you know what time is is?
No friends, J-M
[Chorus: The Notorious B.I.G.]
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in bitches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
Niggas real protective, young G's perspective
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in bitches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
Niggas real protective, young G's perspective
[Verse 3: Larceny]
(Larceny) The dirty trigger nigga, fuck the looking good shit
I rather grab my gat, cock bullshit
Heat I keep when I creep
Using the Snake intellect to catch wreck and count them greens
A nigga drops, I wish it was the cops
Shit is hot, got the motherfucking block locked
[Verse 4: Trife]
Wicked creator, life eliminator
Continue to sin you, murder's on the menu
Which get in you, meet the boom on the stab wound
Blood harvester tomb catch a body every full moon
MC's with temptation, death by asphyxiation
Snake relation like proper damn nation
Since birth on this scortched dirt
Badness with the lyricals pocket full of miracles
I'm sick, and sick of being tired
Ain't a soul I fear, too tired to care
At sunrise to let my tempature rise
Eagle eyes, don't believe in me, believe your eyes
Should I cry? Cause I wet a nigga then he die
Go cock my line, roll up and get high
[Chorus: The Notorious B.I.G.]
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in bitches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
Niggas real protective, young G's perspective
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in bitches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
Niggas real protective, young G's perspective
[Verse 5: DSP]
I cause dirty bodies and bloodclots, very busses and buck shots
Cock gluts and run the block, niggas who clean they clucks
Niggas can see me nots, let it get hot
Murder mo' niggas and got a longer wrap sheet than mets and cot
Because I only get drastic so who has the black plastic
Specs in the back with all the caskets
Who can be mo killa? Blood spilla, clips with hollow points
So when a nigga slips he shits like he's got salmonela
Danger approaches, checking for who gets closest
You're closest to get my focus, smoke these rookies like roaches
Who can cause more terror than this like a full terrorist
Breaking niggas like matches, broken bitches appoaches
And you know this nigga let's it increase
With mo' heat than a heater 'specialy when I got my milimeter
Burning up these niggas like VD, these niggas try to see me
Now I'm making benders like Houdini
[Chorus: The Notorious B.I.G.]
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in bitches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
Niggas real protective, young G's perspective
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in bitches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
Niggas real protective, young G's perspective
[Outro: The Notorious B.I.G.]
No doubt, no doubt
The Bay Area meets Bedstuy
Black Jack
Junior M.A.F.I.A
Frank White is the fucker
Keeping it real for the 9-6 until, uh
Yeah, no friends, J-M
Uh, no friends, J-M
I need a Black Jack
Uh, no friends, J-M
Uh, The Snakes
No friends, J-M, uh
No friends, J-M, uh
Uh, No friends J-M
READ MORE ABOUT BLACKJACK (RAP GROUP)
