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Notorious Big – Warning Original Version Lyrics

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Read Time:2 Minute, 59 Second

Stick me for my paper
Stick me for my paper
Stick me for my paper

Who the hell is this paging me at 546 in the morning?
Crack of dawn and now Im yawnin
Wipe the cold out my eye
See whos this paging me and why
Its my man Pop from the barbershop
Told me he was in the gambling spot and heard the intricate plot

Some people wanna stick me like flypaper, neighbor
Slow down, love, please chill, drop the caper
Remember all your peoples from the hill up in Brownsville
That you rolled dice with, smoked b- and got nice with?

Yeah, little Fame up in Prospect
Nah, them my peoples, nah, love, wouldnt disrespect
I didnt say them
They schooled me to some chumps that you knew from back when
When you was clockin minor figures
Now they heard youre blowin up like nitro
And they wanna stick the knife through your windpipe slow
So, thank Fame for warnin me, cause now Im warnin you
I got the MAC, Biggie, tell me what you gonna do

Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper?
Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper?
Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper?
Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper?

They heard about the Rolexes and the Lexus
With the Texas license plates out of state
They heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown
And they heard you got half of Virginia locked down

They even heard about the crib you bought your moms out in Florida
The Fifth Corridor, call the coroner
Theres gonna be a lot of slow singin and flower-bringin
If my burglar alarm starts ringin
What ya think all the g- is for?
All-purpose war, got the Rottweilers by the door
And I feed em powder so they can devour
The criminals tryin to drop my decimals

Damn, people wanna stick me for my cream
And it aint a dream, things aint always what it seem
Its the ones that smoke b- wit ya, see your picture
Now they wanna grab they guns and come and get ya
Bet ya, Biggie wont slip
I got the Calico with the black talons loaded in the clip

So I can rip through the ligaments
Put they bodies in a bad predicament
Where all the foul people went
Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta
But what Ima hit you with, your first reaction is to duck

I bring pain, bloodstains on what remains
Of his jacket, he had a g-, he shoulda packed it
Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket
So I can reload and explode on your a-

I mess around and get hardcore
C4 to your door, no beef no more
Feel the rough, scandalous
The more w- smoke I puff, the more dangerous
I dont give a damn about you or your weak crew
What you gonna do when Big Poppa come for you?
Im not runnin, chump, I bust my gun and…
Hold on, I hear somebody comin

Cmon, motherf-
Man, Im comin as fast as I can
Just bring your motherf- a- on, come on
Are we gettin close, huh?
Its right over here
You sure its Biggie Smalls crib, man?
Yeah, Im sure, come on
This better be his motherf- house
F-, right here
This better be this motherfuckers house
Oh, shit
What? Whats wrong?
Whats that red dot on your head, man?
What red dot?
Oh, sh-! You got a red dot on your head, too
Oh, sh-