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](3050907)

[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*cker say your prayers
"Hail Mary, full of grace"
Smack the b*tch 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*ggas need to wake up
Smell the Indonesia, beat you to a seizure
Then f*ck your moms, hit the skins to amnesia
She don't remember sh*t, just the two hits
Her hitting the floor and me hitting the clit
Sucking on the tits, had the hooker begging for the di*k
And your moms ain't ugly, love, my di*k got rock quick
I guess I was a combination of House of Pain and Bobby Brown
I was humping around and jumping around
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]
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 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*t
Chump, I'm making hits, no time for the crack rock and sh*t
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 ass
Smooth as Teddy Pendergrass, smoke the grass, get in your ass
The Brooklyn-born Teflon Don, wrecking shop
Getting props, proving nobody drops
Words as potent as the blunt smoking Bed-Stuy bandit
And n*ggas just can't understand it
I bust a cap for the brothers in Nap Nap, Comstock, and Clinton
You know my sh*t is hitting
Yeah, y'all, a fly n*gga, Biggie Smalls
Kicking flavor, make a n*gga wanna dig up in their drawers
For the burner, catch a body, I got styles like karate
Jiu-jitsu, 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*ggas sleep, huh, yo, Big, you're dead wrong
[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