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