[Verse 1 - Notorious B.I.G.]
I used to get feels on a bitch
Now I throw shields on the dick
To stop me from that HIV shit
And niggas know they soft like a Twinkie filling
Playing the villian
Prepare for this rap killin'
Biggie Smalls is the illest
Your style is played out, like Arnold wondered
"What you talkin' bout Willis?"
The thrill is gone, the black Frank White
Is here to excite and
Throw dick to dykes
Bitches I like em brainless
Guns I like em stainless steel
I want the fuckin' Fortune like the Wheel
I squeeze GATs till my clips is empty
Don't tempt me (...T-H-O-D Man)
You don't want to fuck with Biggie

[Method Man]
Here I am, I'll be damned if this ain't some shit
Come to spread the butter lyrics over harmony grit
It's the low killer death trap, yes I'm a jet-black ninja
Comin where you rest at, surrender!
Step inside the ring, you's the #1 contender
Looking cold-booty like your pussy in December
Nigga, stop your bitchin'. Stop, look, and listen
From Method all you gettin' is a can of ass-whippin'
Hey, I'll be kicking you, son. You doing all the yappin'
Actin' as if it can't happen
You front and got me mad enough to touch something
Yo I'm from Shaolin Island! And ain't afraid to bust something
So what you want nigga? Punk nigga?
I got a 6-shooter and a horse named Trigger
It's real! 94, rugged-raw
Kicking down your god damn door (and it goes a little something like this...)

[Hook]
Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit!
And everything you get ya gotta work hard for it
Honeys: shake your hips, (you don't stop!)
And niggas pack they clips (keep on)

[Verse 2 - Method Man]
Verse two, coming with that Olde E brew
Meth-tical, putting niggas back in I.C.U
I'm lifted troop, you can bring your whack-ass crew
I got connections, I'll get that ass stuck like glue
No question: I be coming down and shit!
Yo I gets rugged as a motherfucking carpet get!
And niggas love it, not in the physical form but in the mental
I spark and they cells get warm
I'm not a gentle-man, I'm a Method Man!
Baby accept it, utmost respect it, and
[Assume the position] Stop look and listen
I spit on your grave then I grab my Charles Dickens

[B.I.G.]
Welcome to my center
Honeys feel it deep in they placenta
Cold as the Pole in the Winter
Far from the inventor, but I got this rap shit sold!
And when my Mac unloads
I'm guaranteed another video
Ready to die, why I act that way?
Pop Duke left Mom Duke
The faggot took the back way
So instead of making hoes suck my dick up
I used to do stick-ups
Cause hoes is irritating like the hiccups
Excuse me, flows just grow through me
Like trees to branches
Cliffs to avalanches
It's the praying mantis
Deep, like the mind of Farrakhan
A motherfucking rap phenomenon. Plus

[I got more Glocks and Tecs than you]
I make it hot [Niggas won't even stand next to you]
Nigga touch me you better bust me
3 times in the head
Or motherfucker's dead, you thought so