Warning - Remastered (Explicit)

Who the fuck is this?
Pagin' me at 5:46 in the mornin'
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 nigga pop from the barbershop
Told me he was in the gamblin' spot and heard the intricate plot
Of niggas wanna stick me like fly paper neighbour
Slow down love please chill drop the caper

Remember them niggas from the hill up in Brownsville
That you rolled dice with
Smoked blunts and got nice with?

Yeah my nigga Fame up in prospect
Nah, them my niggas nah love wouldn't disrespect

I didn't say them
They schooled me to some niggas that you knew from back when
When you was clockin' minor figures
Now they heard you 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 nigga, tell me what you wanna do

Damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper
Damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper
Damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper
Damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper

They heard about the Rolex's then the Lexus
With the Texas license plates outta 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'
Whatcha think all the guns is for?
All purpose war got the rottweilers by the door
And I feed 'em gun powder so they can devour
The criminals tryin' to drop my decimals
Damn, niggas wanna stick my for my c.r.e.a.m.
And it ain't a dream
Things ain't always what it seem
It's the ones that smoke blunts witcha
See your picture
Now they wanna grab they guns and come and getcha
Betcha Biggie won't slip
I got the Calico with the Black Talons loaded in the clip
So I can rip through the ligaments
Put the fuckers in a bad predicament
Where all the foul niggas went

Touch my Cheddar, feel my Beretta
Buck when Imma hit you with
You motherfuckers better duck
I bring pain
Blood stains on what remains of his jacket
He had a gun, he should've packed it, cocked it
Extra clips in my pocket
So I can reload and explode on ya rasshole
I fuck around and get hardcore
C-4 to ya door, no beef no more, nigga
Feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
I don't give a fuck about you or your weak crew
What you gonna do when Big Poppa come for you?
I'm not runnin', nigga I bust my gunnin'
Hold on I hear somebody comin'