Song Lyrics Collection

The What (Explicit)

Notorious B.I.G.
1994-09-133:18 minSynced lyrics

"The What (Explicit)" is a song by Notorious B.I.G., released in 1994 in the Pop genre. The song is 3:18 long and contains 69 lines and 595 words.

Lyrics

0:11I used to get feels on a b**ch
0:13Now I throw shields on the dick to stop me from that HIV sh*t
0:18And niggaz know they hot like a twinkie filling
0:20Playing the Villian prepare for this rap killing
0:23Biggie smalls is the illest
0:24Your style is played out, like Arnold wondered
0:27"What you talking 'bout Willis?"
0:28The thrill is gone, the black Frank White
0:31Is here to excite and throw dick to dyke's
0:33B**ches I like 'em brainless, guns I like 'em stainless steel
0:36I want the f**kin Fortune like the wheel
0:39I squeeze gets till my clips is empty
0:42Don't tempt me you don't want to f**k with Biggie
0:45Here I am, I'll be damned if this ain't some sh*t
0:47Come to spread the butter lyrics over hominy grit
0:49It's the low killer death trap, yes I'm a jet black ninja
0:53Comin' where you rest at, surrender
0:55Step inside the ring, you're the number one contender
0:58Lookin' cold booty like your p**sy in December
1:01Ni**a stop *****in', button up ya lip and
1:04From Method all you gettin' is a can of a**-whippin'
1:06Hey, I'll be kickin', you son, you doin' all the yappin'
1:10Actin' as if it can't happen'
1:12You front and got me mad enough to touch somethin'
1:14Yo I'm from Shaolin', Island, and ain't afraid to bust somethin'
1:17So what cha want ni**a, ya punk ni**a
1:20I got a six-shooter and a horse named Trigger
1:23It's real, ninety-four, rugged raw
1:27Kickin' down your god damn door
1:29F**k the world, don't ask me for sh*t
1:32And everything you get ya gotta work hard foot it
1:35Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop
1:38And niggaz pack the clips, keep on
1:40Verse two, comin' with that Olde E brew
1:43Meth-tical, puttin' niggaz back in I.C.U.
1:46I'm lifted troop, you can bring yours wack a** crew
1:49I got connections, I'll get that a** stuck like glue, huh
1:52No question, I be comin' down and sh*t
1:54Yo I gets rugged as a motherf**kin' carpet get
1:57And niggaz love it, not in the physical form but in the mental
2:01I spark and they cells get warm
2:03I'm not a gentle, man, I'm a Method, Man
2:05Baby accept it, utmost respect it
2:08Assume the position, stop, look and listen
2:10I spit on your grave then I grab my Charles Dickens
2:13Welcome to my center, honies feel it deep in they placenta
2:17Cold as the pole in the winter, far from the inventor
2:20But I got this rap sh*t sewed and when my Mac unloads
2:23I'm guaranteed another video
2:26Ready to die, why I act that way
2:28Pop Duke left Mom Duke the faggot took the back way
2:31So instead of makin' hoes suck my dick up, I used to do stick-up
2:35'Cause hoes is irritatin' like the hiccups
2:37Excuse me, flows just grow through me like trees to branches
2:40Cliffs to avalanches, it's the praying mantis
2:43Deep like the mind of Farrakhan
2:45A motherf**kin' rap phenomenon, plus
2:48I got more glocks and techs than you
2:50I make it hot ni**a won't even stand next to you
2:53Ni**a touch me you better bust me three times in the head
2:56Or motherf**ker's dead, ya thought so
3:00F**k the world, don't ask me for sh*t
3:02And everything you get ya gotta work hard for it
3:04Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop
3:07And niggaz pack the clips, keep on
3:09F**k the world, don't ask me for sh*t
3:12And everything you get ya gotta work hard for it
3:15Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop
3:18And niggaz pack the clips, keep on
I used to get feels on a b**ch
Now I throw shields on the dick to stop me from that HIV sh*t
And niggaz know they hot like a twinkie filling
Playing the Villian prepare for this rap killing
Biggie smalls is the illest
Your style is played out, like Arnold wondered
"What you talking 'bout Willis?"
The thrill is gone, the black Frank White
Is here to excite and throw dick to dyke's
B**ches I like 'em brainless, guns I like 'em stainless steel
I want the f**kin Fortune like the wheel
I squeeze gets till my clips is empty
Don't tempt me you don't want to f**k with Biggie
Here I am, I'll be damned if this ain't some sh*t
Come to spread the butter lyrics over hominy grit
It's the low killer death trap, yes I'm a jet black ninja
Comin' where you rest at, surrender
Step inside the ring, you're the number one contender
Lookin' cold booty like your p**sy in December
Ni**a stop *****in', button up ya lip and
From Method all you gettin' is a can of a**-whippin'
Hey, I'll be kickin', you son, you doin' all the yappin'
Actin' as if it can't happen'
You front and got me mad enough to touch somethin'
Yo I'm from Shaolin', Island, and ain't afraid to bust somethin'
So what cha want ni**a, ya punk ni**a
I got a six-shooter and a horse named Trigger
It's real, ninety-four, rugged raw
Kickin' down your god damn door
F**k the world, don't ask me for sh*t
And everything you get ya gotta work hard foot it
Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop
And niggaz pack the clips, keep on
Verse two, comin' with that Olde E brew
Meth-tical, puttin' niggaz back in I.C.U.
I'm lifted troop, you can bring yours wack a** crew
I got connections, I'll get that a** stuck like glue, huh
No question, I be comin' down and sh*t
Yo I gets rugged as a motherf**kin' carpet get
And niggaz love it, not in the physical form but in the mental
I spark and they cells get warm
I'm not a gentle, man, I'm a Method, Man
Baby accept it, utmost respect it
Assume the position, stop, look and listen
I spit on your grave then I grab my Charles Dickens
Welcome to my center, honies feel it deep in they placenta
Cold as the pole in the winter, far from the inventor
But I got this rap sh*t sewed and when my Mac unloads
I'm guaranteed another video
Ready to die, why I act that way
Pop Duke left Mom Duke the faggot took the back way
So instead of makin' hoes suck my dick up, I used to do stick-up
'Cause hoes is irritatin' like the hiccups
Excuse me, flows just grow through me like trees to branches
Cliffs to avalanches, it's the praying mantis
Deep like the mind of Farrakhan
A motherf**kin' rap phenomenon, plus
I got more glocks and techs than you
I make it hot ni**a won't even stand next to you
Ni**a touch me you better bust me three times in the head
Or motherf**ker's dead, ya thought so
F**k the world, don't ask me for sh*t
And everything you get ya gotta work hard for it
Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop
And niggaz pack the clips, keep on
F**k the world, don't ask me for sh*t
And everything you get ya gotta work hard for it
Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop
And niggaz pack the clips, keep on

Translation

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