Easy Mo Bee - Dead Wrong (Original Version) lyrics

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Easy Mo Bee - Dead Wrong (Original Version) lyrics

[Hook] The weak or the strong, who got it going on? You're dead wrong The weak or the strong, who got it going on? You're dead wrong [Verse 1] Relax and take notes while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke Throw you in a choke, gun smoke, gun smoke Biggie Smalls for mayor, the rap slayer The hooker layer, motherf**er say your prayers "Hail Mary, full of grace" Smack the b**h in the face, take her Gucci bag And the North Face off her back, jab her if she act Funny with the money, oh you got me mistaken, honey I don't wanna rape ya, I just want the paper The Visa, kapeesha? I'm out like The Vapors Who's the one you call Mr. Macho The head honcho, swift fist like Camacho I got so much style I should be down with the Stylistics "Make up to break up" n***as need to wake up Smell the Indonesia, beat you to a seizure Then f** your moms, hit the skins to amnesia She don't remember sh**, just the two hits Her hitting the floor and me hitting the clit s**ing on the tits, had the hooker begging for the dick And your moms ain't ugly, love, my dick got rock quick I guess I was a combination of House of Pain and Bobby Brown I was humping around and jumping aroundF Jacked her then I asked her, "Who's the man?" She said, "B-I-G" Then I bust in her E-Y-E (Yo Big, you're dead wrong) [Hook] [Verse 2] Check the pain I inflict, like a convict, the Fulton digger Jump in the Acura Vigor, after I stick ya Rip ya like a razor, straight up Henny with no chaser Watch me erase ya, misplace ya Put you in the back with the derelicts Yeah, I pop plenty sh** Chump, I'm making hits No time for the crack rock and sh** Took it to another level Now I'm getting crazy papes, getting paid from the devils Another amateur trying to damage the pedigree Of the B-I-G-G-I-E, you know it's me Hoes, I thought you know I'm smooth as a baby's a** Smooth as Teeddy Pendegra**, smoke the gra**, get in your a** The Brooklyn-born Teflon Don, wrecking shop Getting props, proving nobody drops Words as potent as the blunt smoking Bed-Stuy bandit And n***as just can't understand it I bust a cap for the brothers in Nap Nap, Comstock, and Clinton You know my sh** is hitting Yeah, ya'll, a fly n***a, Biggie Smalls Kicking flavor, make a n***a wanna dig up in their drawers For the burner, catch a body I got styles like karate Jujitsu, when I hit you then I split you Like a cantaloupe Hope you got a rope to hang yourself I rob for self; from Brooklyn, where else? Fat like a Lexus coupe, I ripped your troop Not even Lois Lane could get the scoop What you think, I'm stupid? My crew is mad deep I hope you n***as sleep [Hook]

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