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Niggaz in my faction don't like askin questions
Strictly gun testin, coke measurin
Givin pleasure in the Benz-ito
Hittin fanny, spendin chips at Manny's
Hope you creeps got receipts, my peeps get dirty like cleats
Run up in your crib, wrap you up in your Polo sheets
Six up in your wig piece, nigga decease
MWA, may you rest in peace
With my Sycamore style, more sicker than yours
Four-four, and fifty-four draw
as my pilot, steers my Leer, yes my dear
Shit's official, only, the Feds I fear
Here's a tissue, stop your blood clot cryin
The kids, the dog, everybody dyin, no lyin
So don't you get suspicious
I'm Big Dangerous you're just a Lil Vicious
As I leave my competition, respirator style
Climb the ladder to success escalator style
Hold y'all breath, I told y'all -- death
controls y'all, Big don't fold y'all, uhh
I spit phrases that'll thrill you
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