an indian, but not a navahoe (?), i smoke the big leaf in all the big beafs, my hair in two braid's, im the big chief, ladda da' buh bah! yeah, break
sponsorships that you thought had your back Yeah, you beat the rap jiggaboo, fake nigga you You turn around then you shit on Shaq Who woulda knew, Mr.
't big We'll turn this to a should night, Let's swim in alcohol and hop up on our red kush fly. I'm Mr. Big, bitch! Yeah! [Chorus:] Bad bitches, raise
, Heaven help the one's you love, There's no big need for stars above Well, you can run, you, know he'll find you, It don't matter now, just look behind you, You had
Keepin yo head up but your beheaded uh oh Realest is my middle name my heart pump nitrogen And I breathe fire betta stand by a hydragen Duffle bag big enough
life said that once he bagged it smelled so bad he had to bag it twice i told him roll that shit up this weed i had to light these clowns somewhere in
a sicc state of mind as I premedi-tiz-ate Fifty-one-fifty as my brain liquifies Every swig a nigga takes crazy thoughts intensifies I'm ready to ride, I'm Mr
buck nothin to prove lots of pain plus some war cuts it ain't shit, but a thang to me dangerously I play the man you claim to be niggas strike back gun fight, we had
, I fuckin' feel you They be starin' at the money like it's unfamiliar I get it, I live it, to me there's nothings realer Just enough to solve your problems
up shake to keep my clientele tight Before long, I had customers out the ass buyin' flippers Bearskin coats, tight ropes and fat slippers Fresh fade daily, I had
But bein' real ain't really always what n****z make it to be I never thought we'd make it and I'd have n****z hatin' a G I got enough s*** that I deal
't big we'll turn this to a Suge Knight, let's swim in alcohol and hop up on our red kush fly. I'm Mr. Big, bitch! Yeah! Chorus: This goes out to my
ski slope Fuck "goin out" me and my money elope And most niggaz rap about money but they be broke My man went to Moorehouse and had a strong flow So I had
! I used to know this girl that slanged the green shit Had it all goin' on, but it didn't mean shit She wanted to be a star, with big cars And all the
killing each track I rhyme on You had tights on like you had nylons on Boogie banga funked out panty stainer Ghetto enough to get TV reception with
bombs Welcome to the Slim Shady Mecca, Rebecca It's the village in New York, right next to the TriBeCa That's my sector, homosexual dissector Come again, rewind selector I said nice rectum, I had