Letra Machine gun funk de Notorious B I G

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[Verse 1:]
So you wanna be hardcore
With your hat to the back, talkin bout the gats in your raps
But I can´t feel that hardcore appeal
that you´re screamin, baby I´m dreamin
This ain´t Christopher Williams, still some
MC´s got to feel one, caps I got to peel some
To let niggaz know... that if you fuck with Big-and-Heavy
I get up in that ass like a wedgie
Says who? Says me, the lyrical
Niggaz sayin, "Biggie off the street, it´s a miracle"
Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me
Just for niggaz actin shifty
Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat´ll kill you quicker
Especially when I´m drunk off the liquor
Smokin funk by the boxes, packin glocks is
natural to eat you niggaz like chocolates
The funk baby

[Chorus 8x]
"I live for the funk, I´ll die for the funk" (LOTUG, Chief Rocka)

[Verse 2:]
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 niggaz in the pen
Until we motherfuckin meet again
Huh, I´m doin rhymes now, fuck the crimes now
Come on the ave, I´m real hard to find now
Cause I´m knee deep in the beats
In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the Mac-10 by the seats
For the jackers, the jealous ass crackers in the (car sirens)
I´ll make you prove that it´s bulletproof
Hold ya head, cause when you hit the bricks
I got gin, mad blunts, and bitches suckin dick
The funk baby

[Repeat chorus]

[Verse 3:]

So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side
How I smoked funk, smacked bitches on the backside
Bed-Stuy, the place where my head rests
Fifty shot clip if a nigga wan´ test
The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya
High as a motherfuckin helicopter
That´s why I pack a nina, fuck a misdeameanor
Beatin motherfuckers 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
Niggaz wanna know, how I live the mack life
Making money smoking mics like crack pipes
It´s type simple and plain to maintain
I add a little funk to the brain
The funk baby

[Repeat chorus]