Oh My Lord

Junior M.A.F.I.A.

Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Oh My Lord





featuring Notorious B.I.G. 

[Kleptomaniac] 
Why niggaz wanna clock me? 
like that dance called the chachi 
Don't they know I break motherfuckers into parts like Rocky 
Part I part II part III niggaz can't fuck with me 
My style's knock kneed plum crazy (what?) 
Who's that wild ass motherfucker catchin wreck 
Stickin Jamaicans for sound sets outside discoteques 
It's Klep the death specialist Stallone and Stone shit 
Stayin high representin for the nine-quint 
Ras bad guy, burns the house down like Left Eye 
Why try mimic? MC's get broke like speed limits (uhh) 
Niggaz can't fuck with my metaphors 
Canin MC's like they in Singapore; Klep been through more wards 
than Humphrey Shore, put together catchin leathers 
on the regular, got that net, push me round and Dread stressin a 
trick hoe, what the Dread won't know won't hurt 
Robbin his workers for they work; now, WHOSE TURF IS THIS? 
It's Klep's, the clothes wreckers' 
Life interceptor, pussy collector 
Got your bitch on my dick and I ain't even stressin her 
Check enough sex in her, my styles are regular 
Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique moves in like the senator 

Hook: Niggas say "Oh my lord!" 

[Notorious B.I.G.] 
Throw gats to *Guiliani* 
Flows tighter than bitches punani, try me, die G 
Dangerous, since my daddy bust me out 
the tip of his dick, Biggie Smalls with the wickedest shit 
Spit clips, niggaz split like bananas 
Flavour like Tropicana; orange, mango, peach 
I strangle each -- negro for they dough 
Niggaz get to bendin, got two cases, one pendin 
560 V-12 engine, women spinnin 
in 9-2-9 Mazda's, Tammy and Natasha 
The menage-a-trois around my waist 
like Ill and Al Skratch smokin 50 sacks in the back of Ac's 
Windows cracked, so sit back relax 
Yo Vec, crush the hash, the Beretta's in the stash 

Hook: repeat 4X 

[Kleptomaniac] 
What you doin with yourself? Stone heart's the way to wealth 
Indecisive thoughts make sentences get dealt 
Money makes the world go round, robbin shit 
Fuck a job shit, niggaz want cribs, bricks and spliffs 
All-wheel automobiles, traction control 
for clay roads, rollin with dough, kickin game 
on the cel with bitches on hold, that's how we roll (uhh) 
Rhymes got tight as hell so to the bank I stroll (uhh) 
Money on my mind, open lips from my eyes 
reveal pupils shaped like dollar signs -- 

[Notorious B.I.G.] 
-- the world is mine! 
Niggaz frontin, feelin twelve gauge pellets 
BIG is repellant, to all that "He say, she say" 
We play, Russian roulette, fuck the threat 
Your whole crew's vagina, you and your co-signer 
Nigga, we rollin in eight and a halfs, TV's in the dash 
Three G's in the stash, see we love the cash 
No coke, then get some more 

Hook 

[Kleptomaniac] 
Niggaz don't know bout my game, they don't know 
how complex it is, baggin bitches in GS 300 Lexuses 
and the sex is for summer sports 
Passports for drug transports to remote resorts 
Bitches with Donna Karan "Catwoman" suits, matchin figure boots 
Haircut cute, on tops and garters like prostitutes 
My lyrics explicit 
Got bitches bringin they own condoms on the first visit 

[Notorious B.I.G.] 
If Biggie bring big bowls of beef 
backin bitch niggaz down, burners bring bundles of belief 
Common thief, slash drug chief, syndicated 
Went from 10 K, to 24 K and motherfuckers hate it 
J.M. sedated, quarantined (uhh) 
BIG for President, buckin shots past the spleen 
9 millimeter dream, Mac 11 nightmares 
Electric chairs, which MC's do you fear? 
Big Poppa, Junior M.A.F.I.A., nuff said 
Niggaz disrespect just are dead...
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