Ric Flair Drip (Remix) lyrics

by

The Notorious B.I.G.


DJ Discretion

[Intro: 2Pac]
n*ggas don't know my style
Crooked smile, juvenile, was a problem child
Try to put me in the cross, but my force was wild
b*tch-made ass n*ggas don't know my style (squeeze)
n*ggas don't know my style (f*ck everybody, f*ck that n*gga)
n*ggas don't know my style
b*tch-made ass n*ggas don't know my style (f*ck that n*gga)
(f*ck you too n*gga)

[Verse 1: 2pac]
Hit me, I got my Hennessy find ya foes
In a room full of n*ggas tryin' to hide ya hoes
I'm gettin' high off buddha 'cause the times be slow
I keep my mind on dough you never find me broke
And who me? A n*gga livin' life like a G
And that artillery keepin' n*ggas off of me
I can't sleep livin' in these wicked times, peep
n*ggas after me 'cause they see I'm stackin' G's and heat
You can holler if you want to, please
I ain't runnin' with no punk crew, bleed
Enemies and my range is on, you're in the danger zone
My f*ckin' game is strong, now hotline
You suckas better find ya mind I got mine
From hustlin' and bustin' them rhymes
To my n*ggas up in Quentin, down on Rikers Isle
Stay rile, but a n*gga gotta use his styles
Metro Boomin want some more n*gga

[Chorus: Offset]
Going to the jeweler, bust the AP, yeah (bust it)
Slide on the water like a jet-ski, yeah (woo, slide)
I'm tryna f*ck you and your bestie, yeah (hey)
Chopper with the scope so do not test me, (drrt) yeah (drrt)
Ric Flair drip, go "woo" on a b*tch (woo)
Fifty-seven ninety, split the coupe on my wrist (ice)
Multi-million dollar, I'm a fool with the hits (ayy)
Hop up in the Lamb' and drop the roof, show the tits (skrr)

[Verse 2: Offset]
Poppin' but you really not gon' shoot (pop it)
Ninety pointers down my diamonds look like hula hoops (ninety)
Hopping in my Bentayga and her seat is a masseuse (hey)
Balenciaga, check my posture, Valentino boots (oo-oo)
It's the Boominati way, a lotta Lambs, a lotta Wraiths (Boominati)
Never hesitate to give a n*gga yellow tape (grrt)
Ain't worried 'bout the bag 'cause the cash acc*mulatin (bags)
Soon as we came in the game, all these n*ggas they imitate it (hey)

[Verse 3: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Money, hoes, and clothes
Blunt smoke coming out the nose, is all a n*gga knows
Flipping on foes, putting tags on toes
Watching the stash grow, clocking the cashflow
The neighborhood gravedigger
Getting paid so much, all the b*tches want to see a n*gga
I guess they figure I'm paid, I want to get laid
Or since I got loot, I want to knock boots
I'd rather beat my di*k than trick
And if she don't suck, then we don't f*ck
I'd rather make a buck, drive a fat-ass truck
Grab the 9, two clips, and run'em up
Yes, flex after two or three Becks
As I wreck sh*t, what the f*ck you expected?
A fly guy? Well f*ck it, I'm the high guy
From Bed-Stuy, putting the swelling on your eye
[Chorus: Offset]
Yeah
Ric Flair drip, go "woo" on a b*tch (woo)
Fifty-seven ninety split the coupe on my wrist (ice)
Multi-million dollar, I'm a fool with the hits (ayy)
Hop up in the Lamb' and drop the roof, show the tits (skrr)
Going to the jeweler, bust the AP, yeah (bust it)
Slide on the water like a jet-ski, yeah (woo, slide)
I'm tryna f*ck you and your bestie, yeah (hey)
Chopper with the scope so do not test me, (drrt) yeah (drrt)
Ric Flair drip, go "woo" on a b*tch (woo)
Fifty-seven ninety, split the coupe on my wrist (ice)
Multi-million dollar, I'm a fool with the hits (ayy)
Hop up in the Lamb' and drop the roof, show the tits (skrr)

DJ Discretion

[Outro]
Yeah this uh ah
That untouchable phoe you know what I'm saying yeah
This is all for the players and the playeds wherever you at ya dig
I'm talking about from this side to that side east side west side
Your side my side its all about biggie and funkin man haha
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