THINK BIG - Money Boss Players, Pudgee Tha Phat Bastard, Lord Tariq

Big Poppa, throwing niggas off of cliffs, smoking spliffs

Disappear with my bitch in a Mitsubishi Eclipse

Read my lips, I kill you

Blood’ll spill too, did I say thank you

I grant you three wishes cause I be the genie

Niggas is assed out like fat bitches in bikinis

Read between the lines see what I see

I see the diary of a sick bastard

Junior Mafia blaster, Rugers on the hips

Bought coke to flip chips, bought slugs to fill clips

Flipping coke in corner store bodegas

In the back room playing Sega, Street Fighter II

I’m inviting you, bring your writing crew and they dopest rhymes

I get up in that ass every time

Lyrically I’m untouchable, uncrushable

Getting mad blunted in the 600

Benz, ask your friends who’s the illest

Licking shots, niggas screaming «Biggie Smalls tried to kill us»

You think big you get big, champagne and Moet

You can party til you sweat, the money’s yours to get

Cash in abundance, paper stacks in the hundreds

One thousand for the gators, hard stares for the traitors

I be a thang slinger, body boom here come the banger

Your mother should have pulled you out with a fucking hanger

Word up, what’s your motherfucking deal, nigga

Fuck Polo, you can call me Tommy Real Nigga

To all emcees that envy that’s trying

Never me and you, take it easy like Mad Lion

If you mess with me, your family

Will be missing you like we miss EPMD

But if you don’t believe me you can come and see me though

And you sure will be over just like Arsenio

I come-a-calling, you niggas be stalling

I got the unbelievable like my nigga Smalls and

Release date, man I can’t wait

That ass getting cash like a New York nigga out of state

To the ladies don’t waste your time

Only 69 that I do is *69

Give you drama like 2Pac so you gots to give me dap

For fun, putting 'em on the run like Kool G Rap

Like Michael Jackson off the wall for y’all

I’m making people forget you like R Kelly did to Aaron Hall

In God we trust, in hoes we lust

In clothes and cash and cars a must

Yo I’m the 86 survivor so bear witness to my theme

I only play with my team, two hundred thousand in my dream

Bitches love this curly headed threat, far from a herb

Draw my nigga and I squeeze for Gs quicker than a serve

I got styles for miles the Bronx and Harlem runner-up

You think big you get big, I want it all fuck a cut

Yo fuck beepers, fuck hustling for sneakers and car speakers

Give me cars and stores to transform this drug caper

Hustling money’s dead kid I want Arab and Jew paper

And now I’m the sheik the Lord Tariq

So let the resurrected Willie speak cause I’d rather die upon my feet

My dress code explodes, paying hundreds for jeans

Yo I could play a pair of Lees and reign Willie Supreme

BBS ride the ave beside the African gypsy cab driver

While I let you check the style of a survivor (MacGyver)

Your shit is smothered yo I got New York covered

End of story, I’m the last and there will be never be another

Motherfucker