Intro: [The Notorious B.I.G.]   Some Junior Mafia shit right here   We just gonna set it off   We's know the deal   This shit is real   On this end, uh   Shit is real on this end   No friends, J-M   (Shit it real on this end)   Shit is real on this end   (Shit is real on this end)   No friends, J-M      Verse One: [Junior M.A.F.I.A. member #1]   Got into my mind   Shit is smoked up, my sight is blind   Cock back the nine,   Cuz I might not like what I find   Murders I seen, killer fiend   Through the endosheen   Mean burst into flying milloteen   Into see I sit, till I'm rit   I use the gun and slip exhale   Hollow tits   Rub my pointer angle   This must be the devil's triangle   Confused, so I mangle   Demons I had to strangle   Perfesion hit man,   And so they guns   Multi clips   I grab my gats   Got go back and let him pull it      Verse Two: [Junior M.A.F.I.A. member #2]   I said I'm rough a real bitch   Nigga, you better back up   with the four-four devid loaded   so motherfuckers slack up   I shit the raps and craps   Give me my snaps   Bitches wanting the claps   cuz I'm leaving them with fucking gats   I write rhymes, the gay mind   The maintain mind   The rag around my head is for the gang sign   So with the bottom lick the sha body shody   Fear nobody at less catch fucking bodies   On all you bitches, gang-bangers, snitches   I get so fucked up I don't know   Which, which, is which is   Loss need a part of me   Trifling and stifling   MC's on they ass   Two snakes in the fucking grass, nigga      Interlude: [The Notorious B.I.G.]   Do you know what time is is?   No friends, J-M      CHORUS: [The Notorious B.I.G.]   (What you want?)   Yo keys, G-S 3's, the papes   Busing in bitches   making imperionts late   cleaning out cribs   coke crums off the plate   niggas real protctive   young G's Perspective      (What you want?)   The keys, G-S 3's, the papes   Busing in bitches   making impirionts late   cleaning out cribs   coke crums off the plate   niggas real protctive   young G's Perspective      Verse Three: [Junior M.A.F.I.A. member #3]   (Lost)   The dirty nigga, trigger   Fuck the looking good shit   I rather grab my gat   And cock bullshit   Heat I ceep   When I creep   Using to sneak into leting kept treck   And count them greens   A nigga drops   I wish it was the cops   Shit is hot   The motherfucking block, lock      Verse Four: [Junior M.A.F.I.A. member #4]   Wicked creator   Life eliminator   Continue to sinue   Murders on a menu   Which get in you   Meet the boom on the stab   On blood harvester tomb   Ctach a body ever full moon   MC's with temptaion   They're part, afixiation   Snake relation   Like proper damn nation   Since birth   On this scortched dirt   Badness with the lyricals   Pocket full of miricles   I'm sick, and sick of being tired   Ain't a soul I fear   Too tired to care   And sunwise   To let my tepature rise   Eagle eyes   Don't believe in me   Believe your eyes   Should I cry?   Cuz I wet a nigga then he die   So cock my lie roll up and get high      CHORUS: [The Notorious B.I.G.]   (What you want?)   The keys, G-S 3's, the papes   Busing in bitches   making imperionts late   cleaning out cribs   coke crums off the plate   niggas real protctive   young G's Perspective      The keys, G-S 3's, the papes   Busing in bitches   making impirionts late   cleaning out cribs   coke crums off the plate   niggas real protctive   young G's Perspective      Verse Five: [Junior M.A.F.I.A. member #5]   How cause dirty bodies and glut cluts   Very busses and buck shots   Cock gluts and run the block   Niggas in they clean they clucks   Niggas can see me nuts   Let it get hot   Murder mo niggas and gotta load of reps   She think mets and cot   Because I only get drastic   So who hasta, black plastic   Specs in the back with all the caskets   Who can be mo killa?   Blood spilla?   Clips with hollow points   So when a nigga slips   He shits like he's got salmonela   Danger approaches   Checking for who gets closest   You're closest to get my focus   Smoke the rookies like roaches   Who can cause more terror then this   Like a full terrorist   Breaking niggas like matches   Broken bitches appoaches   And you know this   Nigga lets it increase   With mo heat than a heater   �specialy when I got my milometer   burning up these niggas like VD   these niggas try to see me   now I'm making benders like Houdini      CHORUS: [The Notorious B.I.G.]   (What you want?)   The keys, G-S 3's, the papes   Busing in bitches   making imperionts late   cleaning out cribs   coke crums off the plate   niggas real protctive   young G's Perspective      (What you want?)   The keys, G-S 3's, the papes   Busing in bitches   making impirionts late   cleaning out cribs   coke crums off the plate   niggas real protctive   young G's Perspective, uh      Outro: [The Notorious B.I.G.]   No doubt, no doubt   The Bay Area meets Bedstop   Black Jack   Junior M.A.F.I.A.   Frank White is the fucker   Keeping it real for the 9-6 until, uh   Yeah, no friends, J-M   Uh, no friends, J-M   I lead a Black Jack   Uh, no friends, J-M   Uh, the snakes   No friends, J-M, uh   No friends, J-M, uh   Uh, No friends J-M