Kick In The Door Lyrics - Life After Death - Notorious B.i.g.

repeat 2x ('biggie' repeats every line of beat) 

This goes out to you 

This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you 

Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns 

As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons 

Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan 

Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa 

You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white 

In tank-light totes, tote iron 

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Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin 

Keep extra clips for extra shit 

Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap 

The mo shady, tell em!, frankie baby 

Ain't no tellin where I may be 

May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin 

With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin 

You should know my steelo 

Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show 

To orgies with hoes I never seen befo' 

So, jesus, get off the notorious 

Penis, before I squeeze and bust 

If the beef between us, we can settle it 

With the chrome and metal shit 

I make it hot, like a kettle get 

You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya? 

You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure 

Biggie, how are you gonna do it? 

repeat 4x 

Photos 

Kick in the door, wavin the four-four 

All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more 

On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet 

Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death 

Should I start your breath should I let you die 

In fear you start to cry, ask why 

Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick 

You cursed it, but rehearsed it 

I drop unexpectedly like bird shit 

You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money 

Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them 

Son, I'm surprised you run with them 

I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks 

Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks 

Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick 

Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click 

Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch 

I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick 

When I see ya i'ma 

This goes out for those that choose to use 

Disrespectful views on the king of ny 

Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye 

Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it 

Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight 

Sold more powder than johnson and johnson 

Tote steel like bronson, vigilante 

You wanna get on son, you need to ask me 

Ain't no other king in this rap thing 

They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren 

One shot, they disappearin 

Its ill when, mc's used to be on cruddy shit 

Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit 

Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue 

They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly 

Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny 

And you still recoupin, stupid *echoes*