The Madd Rapper - Kick in the Door lyrics

[Intro skit - "Trevin Jones"] Welcome back We're here on Bad Boy Television, and I'm Trevin Jones And I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper And quite frankly, he's very mad We're gonna try to find out why, so we'll take some questions At this point from our studio audience Yes, ma'am, please stand and state your name and where you're from ["Shay"] Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle And I just don't understand; why you so mad? Like, what are you so mad about? ["The Mad Rapper"] Yo, yo, yo-yo, y'know, yo you wanna know why, yo first of all You can't be askin' me no question youknowhatI'msayin? Who the f** is you? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper) YouknowhatI'msayin? You can't be askin' me no question (It's a family oriented show) I'mma tell you why I'm mad, youknowhatI'msayin? I'mma tell you why I'm mad. I'mma tell you why I'm mad These n***as is makin' five hundred thousand dollar videos, youknowsayin? They drivin' around in hot cars, youknowsayin? They got b**hes, they got all that sh** (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language.) YouknowhatI'ms--? I'm still livin with my Moms, youknowhatI'msayin? That's my word. YouknowI'ms--? I'm makin' records, I ain't made no money Yet I done made this is my fourth album yo, this my fourth album I ain't made a dime yet This n***a made one album, he makin' wild records That "Ready to Die" sh**, it was aight, it was aight YouknowI'msayin, that sh** was aight, it was cool But my sh** is J--more John Blaze than that! I got John Blaze sh** And they not resp-ecognising, they not sayin, "I recognize" And f** is that, who is you to be askin' me questions, youknowhatI'msayin? Who is you? [ "I gots to talk I gotta tell what I feel I gotta talk about my life as I see it"] [Intro - The Notorious B.I.G.] Biggie This goes out to you This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you This goes out to you This goes out to you This goes out to you, and you, and you [Verse 1] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons Get in that a**, quick fast, like Ramadan It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, f** Poppa You got to call me Francis M.H. White Intake light tokes, tote iron Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin' Keep extra clips for extra sh** Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap The most shady, (Tell Em!) Frankie baby Ain't no telling where I may be May see me in D.C. at Howard Homecoming With my man Capone, gumming, f**ing something 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 before 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 sh** I make it hot like a kettle get You're delicate, you better get - who sent ya? You still pedal sh**, I got more rides than "Great Adventure" Biggie ("How are you gonna do it?") [Hook] Kick in the door, waving the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more Kick in the door, waving the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more Kick in the door, waving the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more Kick in the door, waving the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more [Verse 2] On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet Look how dark it get when you're marked for d**h Should I start your breath or should I let you die In fear you start to cry, ask why Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick You cursed it, but rehearsed it I drop unexpectedly like bird sh** You herbs get stuck quickly for royalties and show money Don't forget the publishing, 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 nothing but dicks Trying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique Take trips to Cairo, laying with your b**h I know you praying you was rich, f**ing prick When I see ya I'mma [Hook] Kick in the door, waving the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more Kick in the door, waving the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more Kick in the door, waving the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more Kick in the door, waving the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more [Verse 3] This goes out for those that choose to use Disrespectful views on the King of N-Y f** that, why try, throw bleach in your eye Now ya brailling it, snatch that light sh**, I'm scaling it Conscious 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 kings in this rap thing They siblings, nothing but my children One shot they disappearin' It's ill when MC's used to be on cruddy sh** Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied sh** Now they on some money sh**, successful out the blue They light weight, fragile, my nine milli Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny And you still recouping, stupid stupid stupid stupid..