So you wanna be hardcore, with your hat to the back Talkin' bout the gags in your raps But I can't feel that hardcore appeal that you're screamin' Maybe I'm dreamin' This ain't Christopher Williams, still some empty Got the feel one, cats I got the feel some To let niggas know, that if you *** with big and heavy I get up in that ass like a wedgie Says who, says me, the lyrical Niggas sayin' Biggie off the street, it's a miracle Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me Just for niggas actin' shifty, sticks and stones, brick bones But they gotta kill ya quicker, especially when I'm drunk off the liquor Smokin' front by the boxes, packin' glocks It's natural to eat your niggas like stoppers I'm that mother***er, I'm that mother***er All I want is bitches, big booty bitches Used to sell crack so I could stack my riches Now I pack gats to stop all the snitches From stayin' in my business, what is this? Relentless approach to know if I'm broke or not Just cause I joke and smoke a lot Don't mean I don't tote the glock Sixteen shots for my niggas in the pen Until we mother***in' meet again I'm doin' rhymes now, *** the crimes now Come on and have, I'm real hard to find now Cause I need deep in the beats In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the Mac-10 by the seats For the jockers, the jealous-ass crackers and the ***ers I make you prove that it's bulletproof, hold your head Cause when you hit the bricks, I got gin, mad blood And bitches suckin' dick, the ***, baby I'm that mother***er, I'm that mother***er So I guess you know the story, the rap side, crack side How I smoked up, smacked bitches on the backside The place where my head rests, 50-shot clip If a nigga want that, the rocket launcher Biggie stomped ya, high as a mother***in' helicopter That's why I pack a dina, *** a misdemeanor Beatin' mother***ers like Ike beat Tina What's love got to do when I'm rippin' all through your whole crew? Strapped like bamboo, but I don't sling guns I got bags of funk and it's sellin' by the tons Niggas wanna know how I live the Mac life Makin' money smokin' mics like crack pipes It's type simple and plain to maintain I add a little funk to the brain, the funk, baby I'm that mother***er, I'm that mother***er I'm that mother***er, I'm that mother***er I'm that mother***er, I'm that mother***er I'm that mother***er, I'm that mother***er I'm that mother***er, I'm that mother***er