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Kick in the Door (Radio Edit) [2014 Remaster]
by
DJ Premier
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Lyrics
I gots to talk I gotta tell what I feel (Mm) I gotta talk about my life as I see it Biggie Uh, uh-huh Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie) This goes out to you And you, and you (Biggie), and you This goes out to you This goes out to you (Biggie) This goes out to you And you, and you (Uh) Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (Uh) Get in that *** quick-fast like Ramadan It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, **** Poppa You gotta call me Francis M.H. White, intake light tokes, tote iron Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin' Keep extra clips for extra **** Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap? The most shady (Tell 'em) Frankie, baby Ain't no tellin' where I may be May see me in D.C. At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin' ***** somеthin', you should know my steelo Went from ten Gs for blow to thirty Gs a show To orgies with ****** I nеver seen before, so Jesus, get off the Notorious P*n*s 'fore I squeeze and bust If the beef between us, we can settle it With the chrome and metal ****, I make it hot like a kettle get You're delicate, you better get— who sent ya? You still pedal ****, I got more rides than Great Adventure Biggie (How are you gonna do it?) Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 All you heard was, "Poppa, don't hit me no more" Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 All you heard was, "Poppa, don't hit me no more" Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 All you heard was, "Poppa, don't hit me no more" (Biggie) Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (Uh-huh) All you heard was, "Poppa, don't hit me no more (Uh, uh-huh) On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (Uh) Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die? In fear, you start to cry, ask why Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick You cursed it, but rehearsed it I drop unexpectedly like bird ****, you herbs get Stuck quickly for royalties and show money Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (Uh-huh) I'm done with them (Uh-huh), son, I'm surprised you run with them I think they got *** in them, 'cause they nothin' but ***** Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks Mad I smoke ***** and rock diamonds that's sick Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique Take trips to Cairo, layin' with your ***** I know you prayin' you was rich, ****** *****, when I see ya, I'ma Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (Uh-huh) All you heard was, "Poppa, don't hit me no more" (Uh, uh, uh) Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 All you heard was, "Poppa, don't hit me no more" Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 All you heard was, "Poppa, don't hit me no more" (Biggie) Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 All you heard was, "Poppa, don't hit me no more" This goes out for those that choose to use Disrespectful views on the King of N.Y. **** that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light ****, I'm scalin' it Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88 Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson Tote steel like Bronson, vigilante You wanna get on, son, you need to ask me Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (Uh) It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy **** Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied **** Now they on some money ****, successful out the blue They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny And you still recoupin', stupid (Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid)
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