The Notorious B.I.G. - Kick in the Door lyrics

Biggie, Biggie, Biggie, can't you see?
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your

Welcome back
We're here on Bad Boy Television
And I'm Trevin Jones
And I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper
And quite frankly, he's very mad
We're gonna try to find out why
So we'll take some questions at this
Point from our studio audience yes ma'am
Please stand and state your name
And where you're from

Hi, my name is Shay
And I'm from New Rochelle and I just
Don't understand why you so mad?
Like, what are you so mad about?

Yo, yo, yo yo, y'know


Yo you wanna know why?
Yo, first of all, you can't
Be askin' me no question
YouknowhatI'msayin'? Who the fuck is you?

Ahh, excuse me, Mr rapper, mr rapper

YouknowhatI'msayin? You can't
Be askin' me no question

It's a family oriented show

I'ma tell you why I'm mad
YouknowhatI'msayin?
I'ma tell you why I'm mad
I'ma tell you why I'm mad
These niggas is makin' five
Hundred thousand dollar videos
Youknowsayin?
They drivin' around in hot cars
Youknowsayin?
They got bitches, they got all that shit

Sir, please, please

YouknowhatI'ms -?
I'm still livin' with my Moms
YouknowhatI'msayin?
That's my word, youknowI'ms?
I'm makin' records
I ain't made no money yet I done made
This is my fourth album, yo
This my fourth album i ain't made a dime yet
This nigga made one album
He makin' wild records
That "Ready to Die" shit, it
Was aight, it was aight, youknowI'msayin
That shit was aight, it was cool
But my shit is J more John Blaze than that!
I got John Blaze shit
And they not resp-ecognising
They not sayin' "I recognize"
And fuck is that, who is you
To be askin' me questions
YouknowhatI'msayin? Who is you?

I gots to talk
I gotta tell what I feel (Mhm)
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, and you (Biggie)
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 ass quick-fast like Ramadan
It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa
You gotta call me Francis MH
White, intake light tokes, tote iron
Was told in shootouts
Stay low and keep firin'
Keep extra clips for extra shit (Uh, huh)
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 DC
At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone
Dumbin'
Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo:
Went from ten G's for blow
To thirty G's a show
To orgies with hoes I never seen before, so
Jesus! Get off the Notorious'
Penis, before I squeeze and bust
If the beef between us
We can settle it with the
Chrome and metal shit
I make it hot like a kettle get
You're delicate, you better get who sent ya?
You still pedal shit
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 shit
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 cum in them
'cause they nothin' but dicks
Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks
Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick
Got paid off my flow
Rhyme with my own clique
Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch
I know you prayin' you was rich
Fuckin' prick, 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
Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye
Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit
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 aks 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 shit
Took home Ready to Die, listened
Studied shit now they on some money shit
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