text: Nick Wiz ft. Red Hot Lover Tone ft. The Notorious B.I.G., Prince Po, and M.O.P. - “4 My Peeps ”
  For all my
  Motherfucking niggas, word to Herb, we get stupider
  Running mad circles ‘round your crew like Jupiter
  Oops, I mean Saturn. Rappers sadden ‘cause I’m
  Mad in the pad, and suckers wish they had and
  I’m bagging the bitches grabbing, my pockets fatten
  Like Madden, then I just lamp like Aladdin
  So what you gonna do when I come through
  Your town with mad niggas who love being locked down?
  Facing convictions, throwing conniptions
  I got more bitches than them royal Egyptians
  Step to this mic, you’re a goner
  ‘Cause Red Hot Lover’s Right On! like Cynthia Horner
  I better warn ya: you’ll get your ass kicked, I’m blasted
  Acid? I drop it like a clumsy black bastard
  I’m getting figures from my rap diggers
  Got my shit-kickers, yo, this is for my niggas
  Introducing the black bastard from Bedrock
  Guaranteed to make your head rock, tote Glocks
  Drop cops that mistake me for Rodney
  Strictly head shots, I knock the twist out
  Your dreadlocks. Who got the props? Biggie
  Who got the Glock? Biggie. But who is he?
  You can’t get my description, you need a prescription
  Two doses of the ferocious
  Feel the weight when I’m crushing ‘em, bumrushing ‘em
  Stuffing ‘em, I put the pressure on em, hon
  Lord have mercy, Jesus Christ
  He’s just nice, he just sliced like a Ginsu
  Look what I’ve been through: the Brooklyn streets. The obese
  Thug nigga from the East, the black nine
  Hard to find motherfucker. After the rhyme
  Press rewind, motherfucker. Strictly for my niggas
  I nod my head ‘cause the flavor hovers over
  Universal Soldier of Hip Hop, somebody should have told ya
  40 Projects, Southside Jamaica, Queens. Please don’t
  Sleep. I walk the unforbidden where most emcees won’t
  Check it: if you ever felt sceptic about my intellect
  It’s hectic, I’m like antiseptic on record
  Disinfectant show-wrecker, sound-seizing your sector, local
  Areas, across seas, even in Rome and Mecca
  I’m known. Prince organizing with the Red Hot
  Lover and the bad brother Biggie Smalls from another
  Planet called Brooklyn. Hey, good looking! Do you like your hot chocolate
  After dark? Uh! I’m scared to get you hooked in
  You might have to seek medical attention, the unforgettable type
  Representing my niggas rocking, rocking the mic right
  Hardcore, M.O.P. type shit
  Peace to my other half and my niggas doing bids
  I used to start more shit
  Than high school bullies, I was doing my thing
  Since my nigga Boom Bang used to steal cars from police
  I break niggas up like referees, put ‘em on point
  Back out my joint and making ‘em move like refugees
  Lil’ Fame’s rep is Brooklyn-bound. Still, niggas
  That fuck around’ll catch a beatdown from Brownsville
  I’m going all-out the western way. Old-school
  Or new-school, I’ll beat your ass like it’s freshmen’s day
  For y’all wannabe emcees F-A-G’s
  You gon’ fuck around and make that nigga Bill squeeze
  I’m representing for all mines with nines
  Hardcore’s in town, my niggas that get down
  A Hill figure on a trigger 
  The Crooklyn sounds that pounds and break through. Stopped
  Puffing the lye, still sipping the brew
  So I’ll be on cruise when you snooze, and then you lose
  It’s Lil’
  Fame, motherfucker , we bring you
  Pain, motherfucker 
  ‘Cause I’m rugged, no gimmick, and I’m taking rappers out like
  Uptown niggas be doing bitches on 125th and Lennox
  I represent M.O.P. Niggas that act stuck-up?
  They get stuck up or even fucked the fuck up
  Peace to Tone. Yo, pass that blunt, hit this
  Liquor. This is for my niggas
  Yo, hold me down, Fame 
  Danze with the truck shit, that I-don’t-give-a-fuck shit
  I’m hitting niggas where it hurt, I do work
   so you niggas hit the dirt
  The M.O.P., we’ve been busting Owls for days
  Taking ‘em through a phase, going out in a blaze
  I’m out jail, still holding my steel 
  Bow! Wargames representing this build
  Brownsville for my niggas