text: B Side, B side, ha, check it
  So So Def ... Bad Boy ... collaboration
  The Notorious BIG in the house
  We got Da Brat in the house
  And me, yall know who I be
  Check it ...
  I got that shit all you niggas just love to ride to
  Funk for your trunk is what I provide you
  So slide through your hood with me in your deck
  Cause your correct way to get your groove on, flossin
  I paid the costs to be the boss as a kid
  Fucked around and made some shit you cant fuck with
  They thought luck did it, but it didnt cause Im back again
  Back with the Big and my newfound friend
  Sliding in from the front, never way behind
  Niggas wonder how I came with this style of mine
  Remain in your seats as I release the clip into yo hip
  Brat and Biggie Smalls...
  Aw, shit!
  On top of all that, Im so, so remarkable
  Flow to make you motherfuckers know
  Aint an MC coming close to touch
  Bitches I like to fuck, guns I like to bust, so...
  Lay on back , light up the blunts
  As we give you motherfuckers just what you want 
  Lay on back , light up the blunts
  As we give you motherfuckers just what you want
  I never knew, niggas never had a clue
  On who was the king of the street
  Four deep in the Range Rover jeep, guns under the seat
  And my nigga just came home from work release
  Cristal in my lap, chronic in the air
  Nigga, pass that shit like you just dont care
  Yeah, you on my shit list, Biggie burns spliffs
  When Im pissed, release the Rolex from your wrist
  Nigga, no human being, Korean or European
  Be seein what Big be seein, I leave em peein
  In they draws, because Biggie Smalls
  Is far from weak -- Brat-tat-tat, please speak ...
  Nigga, close your eyes, cause you already see
  The Notorious B-R-uh-A-T
  The raw combination, the destination
  Number one tote a gun with no hestiation
  Live with the funkdafied cutie pie
  Gat by the thigh, the Smalls by her side
  If you fuck with her, you got to fuck with me
  And well be rapping at your motherfuckin eulogy, so ...
  Lay on back, light up the blunts 
  As we give you motherfuckers just what you want
  Lay on back , light up the blunts
  As we give you motherfuckers just what you want
  Brat-tat-tat-tat, please speak ...
  I got the funk in my pocket, shit stay locked down
  The nigga you know who represent them platinum sounds
  Now baby, Biggie, I done heard that Juicy
  Didnt find nuthin but truth in the hook
  Be a pleasure to wreck with a notorious nigga, ready to die
  I jumped in the Benz, took me a little ride
  Round the mountain, broke a left, hit SoSoDef
  And told that nigga JD I was the one, fuck the rest
  We Funkdafied, kicking it live
  Robin Leach, teach a nigga how to really survive
  Whether it be track or blunt, aint no need to front
  Got what you need, and I take everything you ever wanted, nigga
  We comin mass, his pimpin ass, his glass is full of Moet
  The Rolex is bar-bayed, parkade, B to the R-A, T
  Rolling off swoll on chrome seventeen—
  Lay on back , light up the blunts
  As we give you motherfuckers just what you want
  Lay on back , light up the blunts
  As we give you motherfuckers just what you want
  Lay back, listen to the B-Side
  Slide, glide, do whatever you want
  Get out your lighters
  We be the rhyme writers
  Starters ... from the heart of College Park
  New York, Chicago ... wherever you wanna go