Flip funk in the UK
Pass the ill fill
And I can feel all the Flava
Kicking from the UA- US neighbour
Kick all the Flava
Do the Mack do, what you wanna do, you savour
This step is called the BRU to the T
Bust the rhymes for free, I gets down
Mack is inside your town
Busting lyrics tourture like the missiles slow you down
Sup with B.I.G? Pass the microphone to you so I can take a puff
Who throw gats to Guiliani?
Flows tighter than pigeon punani, try me, die G
Dangerous, since my daddy bust me out the tip of his dick
Biggie Smalls with the Wickedest shit
Spit clips, niggas split like bananas
Flavour like Tropicana; orange, mango, peach
I strangle each
Negro for they dough
Niggas get to bendin, got two cases, one pending
560 V-12 engine, niggas swimmin
In 929 Mazdas, Tammy and Natasha
The menage-a-trois is at my crib
Like Ill and Al Skratch smokin 50 sacks in the back of Acs
Windows cracked, so sit back relax
Craig, crush the hash, the Berettas in the stash
Well, BANG! lets kick it off like a butt
More fakes than Allen front to leave you lost like a treasure hunt
From now on, yall crossed the land
Craig Macks the upper hand with more rhymes than the beach got sand
Youre an MC, yo my original job is that mistaken rapsll guarantee you look like a slob
I got more rhymes than kids got the measles
You shooting needles, we are bigger than The Beatles
I crush , hush with the Super Sunday rush
Were trotting to the cot cause your style turns back to mush
I flip out the funk off the frame
Now you know my name- Mackalicious, aint you got a king?
Before 10:00 Westwood, Im no good
Shaking from here to back to Breckwood
On One FM rap show, the illest flow that you ever heard on your radio
Biggie Smalls, my motherfucking man, take the microphone and kick the wicked like a man
I went from construction Timbs to Acs with rims
Flipping mixtapes to bitches feeding me grapes
Peep my mind state, Big Poppa flow is lethal
That weed make my ass wanna KILL FOUR PEOPLE!
Forget the dames, gimme the range and the wain
My niggas up the pawn drop top jag walls
Blindfold you when you step in the car
Thats the superstar status apparatus, more wings than clutches
Cease roll the hash, its in the pocket with the nine
Lick off the wine as my seats recline
I want a presidential Rollie
So I crush MCs, the guacamole making Robin scream Holy Molly!
Big Poppa, off the caper, Im that paper crusader
Playing Sega in a widebody blazer
And if you dont know now you know
My flow you pick like an afro
Wet like Soul Glo
...Uh, you dont stop...
Big Poppa, throwing niggas off of cliffs, smoking spliffs
Disappear with my bitch in a Mitsubishi Eclipse
Read my lips, I kill you, blood will spill too
Did I say thank you? I grant you
Three wishes cause I be the genie
Niggas is ass out like fat bitches in bikinis
Read between the lines, see what I see?
I see the diary of a sick bastard
Junior M.A.F.I.A blaster
Rugers on the hips, bought coke to fill chips
More burners to fill clips, check it...
Putting coke in corner store bodegas
In the back room playing Sega Streetfighter 2
Im inviting you, get your writing crew and their dopest rhymes
Ill get up in that ass every time
Lyrically Im untouchable, uncrushable
Getting mad blunted in a 600 Benz
Ask your friends whos the illest
Licking shots niggas screaming Biggie Smalls tried to kill us
I get ill...
Its time for a funk refill of rhymes that I kill as I shoot em in the grill
MCs, Im not impressed
Your best dont just throw your chest
Wheres the bullet proof or the wool vest, wont matter
Your chest will shatter
On the tip of my dick baby you are the badder
MCs now feel funktified
They tried but now they died
Biggie bring big bowls of beef
Backing bitch niggas down burners bring bundles of belief
Common thief slash drug chief, syndicated
Went from 10k to 24k, competition hated, J.M. sedated
Quarantine
Big for president, busting shots past your spleen
9 millimeter dreams, Mac 11 nightmares
Which MCs do you fear? Big Poppa, Junior M.A.F.I.A, nuff said
Niggas disrespect just I dead
Just I dead
MCs will turn red from the shot I lick, Ceaser sick
Too much shagging, too much drinking, too much thinking
MCs are blinking the third eye when I pass by
Mackalicious got the sweet potato fried for you motherfucker, I... touch the microphone
I do or die, make the hardest motherfucker cry when a MC pass by
I flip rhymes off the top of my head just like Raid I spray MCs until they dead
A vocal volcanic microphone, robotic tonic atonic
The microphone is mine so MCs panic
I get down for my ground
You could see I met James Brown in your town
Flipping funk on a Friday on my malware
In the highway, takes MCs by the driveway, driveway
Slow ill flow, so you know, head to toe
Ill bend flows when I go...
From flow to top ten... to dough...
Flow ill flow, Badboy down said so
So Biggie Smalls my man, take command
Turn each MC you see into sand
I stretch the funk like my name was Plastic Man
Eating MCs out the can in my hip-hop wonderland
I got the venom like the snakes got the venom, I put it in em
Faces turn bluer than my denim
But dont look down though my name is David Banner
Flipping green on the mic cause they cant control my gamma
So stop hogging us, Macks the erogenous
So rap full grown, see us the acrogynous
There aint a rapper liver than the rebel
My voice dont carry treble, eat MCs like a vegetable
Crack a few stepping on the pedal
Heavy off the medal, lifes stronger waiting for the sun to settle
King MC, for that I thank the LORD
Ill vocal chords sometimes you get the style bored
As we break it down, Biggie Smalls represent Brooklyn your hometown
Niggas in my faction dont like asking questions
Strictly gun testing, coke measuring
Giving pleasure in the Benzito
Hitting fannies, spending chips at Mannys
Hope you creeps got receipts, my peeps get dirty like cleats
Run up in your crib, wrap you in your Polo sheets
6 up in your wig-piece, nigga decease
Mxwaah! May you rest in peace
With my Sycamore style, more sicker than yours
.44 and 54 draws
As my pilot, steers my Lear- yes, my dear
Shits official, only the Feds I fear
Heres a tissue, stop your blood clot crying
The kids, the dog, everybody dying, no lying
So dont you get suspicious
Im Big dangerous youre just a little vicious
As I leave my competition, respirator style
Climb the ladder to success escalator style
Hold yall breath, I told yall
Death controls yall, Big dont fold yall
I spit phrases thatll thrill you
Youre nobody til somebody kills you
Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns
As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons
Get in that ass, quick fast, like Ramadan
Its that rap phenomenon Don Dada
Fuck Poppa, you got to call me Francis M.H. White
Intake light tokes, tote iron
Was told in shootouts, stay low, keep firing
Keep extra clips for extra shit
Whos next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap
The most shady, Frankie baby
Aint no telling where I may be
May see me in D.C. at Howard Homecoming
With my man Capone, dumbing, fucking something
You should know my steelo
Went from 10 Gs for blow to 30 Gs a show
To orgies with hoes I never seen before
So, Jesus, get off the Notorious
Penis before I squeeze and bust
If the beef between us, we can settle it
With the chrome and metal shit
Make it hot like a kettle get
Youre delicate, you better get - who sent ya?
You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure