เนื้อเพลง Gimme The Loot - The Notorious B.I.G.

[Intro:]

Yeah. Motherf*ckers better know... huh, huh. Lock your windows,
close your doors. Biggie Smalls, huh...yeah.

[Verse One:]

My man Inf left a Tec and a nine at my crib
Turned himself in, he had to do a bid
A one-to-three, he be home the end of '93
I'm ready to get this paper, G, you with me?

Motherf*cking right, my pocket's looking kind of tight
and I'm stressed, yo Biggie let me get the vest

No need for that, just grab the f*cking gat
The first pocket that's fat the Tec is to his back
Word is bond, I'm a smoke him yo don't fake no moves (what?)
Treat it like boxing: stick and move, stick and move

N*gga, you ain't got to explain sh*t
I've been robbin motherf*ckers since the slave ships
with the same clip and the same four-five
Two point-blank, a motherf*cker's sure to die
That's my word, n*gga even try to bogart
have his mother singing "It's so hard..."

Yes, love love you're f*cking attitude
because the n*gga play p*ssy that's the n*gga that's getting screwed
and bruised up from the pistol whipping
webs on the neck from the necklace stripping
Then I'm dipping up the block and I'm robbing b*tches too
up the herring bones and bamboos
I wouldn't give f*ck if you're pregnant
Give me the baby rings and a #1 MOM pendant

I'm slamming n*ggaz like Shaquille, sh*t is real
When it's time to eat a meal I rob and steal
'cos Mom Duke ain't giving me sh*t
so for the bread and b*tter I leave n*ggaz in the gutter
Huh, word to mother, I'm dangerous
Crazier than a bag of f*cking Angel Dust
When I bust my gat motherf*ckers take dirt naps
I'm all that and a dime sack, where the payback?

[Verse Two:]

Big up, big up, it's a stick up, stick up
and I'm shooting n*ggaz quick if you hiccup
Don't let me fill my clip up in your back and head piece
The opposite of peace sending Mom Duke a wreath
You're talking to the robbery expert
Stepping to your wake with your blood on my shirt
Don't be a jerk and get smoked over being resistant
'cos when I lick shots the sh*ts is persistent

Huh, goodness gracious the papers
Where the cash at? Where the stash at?
N*gga, pass that before you get your grave dug
from the main thug, .357 slug
And my n*gga Biggie got an itchy one grip

One in the chamber, 32 in the clip
Motherf*ckers better strip, yeah n*gga peel
before you find out how blue steel feel

from the Beretta, putting all the holes in your sweater
The money getter motherf*ckers don't have better
Rolex watches and colourful Swatches
I'm digging in pockets, motherf*ckers can't stop it

Man, n*ggaz come through I'm taking high school rings too
B*tches get stripped down for they earrings and bangles
and when I rock her and drop her I'm taking her door knockers
And if she's resistant "baka! baka! baka!"

So go get your man b*tch he can get robbed too

Tell him Biggie took it, what the f*ck he gonna do?

I hope apologetic or I'm a have to set it
and if I set it the cocks*cker won't forget it

[Verse Three:]

Man, listen all this walking is hurting my feet
But money looks sweet (where at?) in the Isuzu jeep

Man, I throw him in the Beem, you grab the f*cking C.R.E.A.M
and if he start to scream "bam! bam!", have a nice dream
Hold up, he got a f*cking b*tch in the car
Fur coats and diamonds, she thinks she a superstar

Ooh Biggie, let me jack her, I kick her in the back
Hit her with the gat...

Yo chill, Shorty, let me do that...
Just get the f*cking car keys and cruise up the block
The b*tch act shocked, gettin shot on the spot
(Oh sh*t! The cops!) Be cool, fool
They ain't gonna roll up, all they want is f*cking doughnuts
(So why the f*ck he keep lookin?) I guess to get his life tooken
I just came home, ain't trying to see Central Booking
Oh sh*t, now he lookin in my face
You better haul ass 'cos I ain't with no f*cking chase
So lace up your boots, 'cos I'm about to shoot
A true motherf*cker going out for the loot