Song lyrics downloaded from:
https://www.albumsongandlyrics.com

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The Notorious B I G - Warning
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Who the fuck is this? Pagin me at 5:46 in the mornin crack o' dawnin
Now I'm yawnin, wipe the cold out my eye
See who's this pagin me and why..
It's my nigga Pop from the barbershop
Told me he was in the gamblin spot and heard the intricate plot
Some niggaz wanna stick me like fly paper neighbor
Slow down love please chill, drop the caper
'Remember them niggaz from the hill up in Brownsville? 
That you rolled dice wit, smoked the blunts and got nice wit?'
'Yeah, my nigga Fame up in Prospect
Nah, dem my niggaz nah, love wouldn't disrespect'
'I didn't say dem, they schooled me to some niggaz 
that you knew from back when, when you was clockin minor figures
Now they heard you blowin up like nitro
and they wanna stick the knife through your windpipe slow
So, thank Fame for warnin me now I'm warnin you
I got the mac nigga, tell me what you wanna do...

[Chorus X4:]
Damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper.

'They heard about the rolexs and the lexus
wit the Texas license plate outta state
They heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown
Now they heard you got half Virginia locked down
They even heard about the crib you bought your moms out in Florida
the fifth corridor....' Call the coroner
There's gonna be alot of slow singin
And flower bringin if my burgular alarm starts ringin
Whatcha think all the guns is for? 
All purpose war, got the Rottweilers by the door
And I feed em gun powder so they can devour
The criminals tryin to drop my decimals
Damn, niggaz wanna stick my for my CREAM
and in a dream things ain't always how it seems
It's the ones that smoke blunts witcha
See your picture, now they wanna grab they guns and come and getcha
Betcha Biggie won't slip, I got the calico
with the black talons loaded in the clip
So I can rip through the ligaments
put the fuckers in a bad prediciment
Where all the foul niggas went
Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta
Buck what I had you with you motherfuckers betta duck
I bring pain, blood stains on blood of what remains
of his jacket, he had a gun he should'eve packed it
Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket
So I can reload and explode down ya asshole
I fuck around and get hardcore, C-4 to ya door no beef no more
Nigga, feel the rush, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
I don't give a fuck about you or your weak crew
What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you?
Im not runnin, nigga I bust my gun in
Hold on I hear somebody comin...