Yes its me, the B.I.G
Competition ripper ever since 13
Used to steal clothes was considered a thief
Until I started hustlin on Fulton Street
Makin loot, knockin boots on the regular
Pass the microphone Im the perfect competitor
Jewels and all that, my clothes is all that
Chumps steppin to me, thats where they took a FALL at!
B.I.G. without burner, thats unheard of
I stay close to mine like Tina on Turner
Quick to smother, a punk motherfucker
Undercover, word to mother, Im above ya
And I love ya, cause youre a sweet bitch
A crazy crab, the type to make my dick itch
I flow looser than Luther, words ya get used ta
B.I.G. is a born trooper
Like ice cream I scoop ya, my music you wanna get loose ta
Stay dipped, and Im not a booster
So whatcha got to say? This mackin word is bond
Theres no other assumption, I got it going on
Im not conceited, my friends tell me this
Even my mother, be noddin her head to this
Makes her proud to see her one son get loud
Flip on a sucker, and bow to the crowd
Drink a little Hennessy, smoke a blunt or 2 or 3 or 4
Live in action, guaranteed RAW