text: Split the dutches fill it with the skunk we about to
  Get wicked in the joint uh Notorious is glorious
  Niggas now whos the mind blower, the weed grower
  Have you seeing doubles like Noah, the rhyme flower
  B.I.G. top notch with the Glock check your pockets
  And your sock its just the way my pops taught me
  When you throw the drop check em thoroughly
  The bastard might spin around and try to bury me
  And dead niggas dont make no moves
  When Im slingin in the hood I dont fake no moves aight
  Reminiscin on my swingin days
  When I drove a Caddy and my bitch sported finger waves
  Yea she had the Gucci boots I had Sarducci suits
  Oshkosh-begosh Coca-Cola lookin real cute
  Junior M.A.F.I.A. representin Bucktown
  Mac-11 cocked back niggas better duck down
  Face down you know the routine the cream
  Earrings you know the drama Biggie bring
  How should I plead forever thuggin on a quest to get Gs
  Runnin from enemies ever since the days of a seed
  Im under pressure the stress will have me drinkin
  Thinkin niggas after me much too paranoid to blink
  Wonder why the police dont want to see me stackin Gs
  They after a playa but I wont let em capture me
  I gotta thank the lord for the weed and the nicotine
  I cant sleep close my eyes I see wicked deams 
  I keep my pistol by my bedside one in the chamber
  Preoccupied with homocide my lifes in danger
  Rollin down the four-five beware of stangers
  Hand on my 4-5 thats what the fame does
  Im probably wrong but Ill never know it till Im gone
  From out the gutter where the jealous motherfuckers roam
  Pass the weed let that Hennessey get to me
  Before the penitentiary