Artist: The Notorious B.I.G.
Album:  Warning 12"
Song:   Warning (Clean Version)
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash, no1wammy@hotmail.com

[Notorious B.I.G.]
{*sound of a pager going off*}
Stick me for my paper
Stick me for my paper
Stick me for my paper

(Verse 1)
[B.I.G.] Who the hell is this?
         Pagin' me at 5:46
         In the mornin, crack of dawn, and {*dialing phone*}
         Now I'm yawnin'
         Wipe the cold out my eye {*ring*}
         See who's this pagin' me
         And why
         It's my man Pop from the barbershop
         Told me he was in the gamblin' spot, and heard the intricate plot
         Some people wanna stick me like flypaper neighbor
         Slow down love, please chill, drop the caper
[Pop]    Remember all your peoples from the hill up in Brownsville?
         That you rolled dice with, smoked [{*blunts*}] and got nice with
[B.I.G.] Yeah, Lil' Fame up in Prospect
         Nah, they're my peoples, nah, love wouldn't disrespect
[Pop]    I didn't say them, they schooled me to some chumps
         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, cause I'm warnin' you
         I got the mack, Biggie, tell me what you gonna do

Break: Notorious B.I.G.
Damn!
Why they wanna stick me for my paper
Damn!
Why they wanna stick me for my paper
Damn!
Why they wanna stick me for my paper
Damn!
Why they wanna stick me for my paper

(Verse 2)
[Pop]
They heard about the Rolex's and the Lexus
With the Texas license plates out of state
They heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown
And they heard you got, half of Virginia locked down
They even heard about the crib you bought your moms out
In Florida, the fifth corridor

[B.I.G.]
Call the coroner
There's gonna be a lot of slow singin'
And flower bringin'
If my burgular alarm starts ringin'
What you think all the guns is for?
All purpose war, got the Rottweilers by the door
And I feed 'em gunpowder, so they can devour
The criminals, tryin' to drop my decimals
Damn!
People wanna stick my for my cream
And it ain't a dream, things ain't always what it seem
It's the ones that smoke [{*blunts*}] with ya
I see ya picture
Now they wanna grab the guns and come and get ya
Bet ya Biggie won't slip
I got the calico with the black talons loaded in the clip
So I can rip through the ligaments
Put they bodies in a bad prediciment
Where all the foul people went
Touch my cheddah, feel my Beretta
Buck
What I'm a hit you, with ya first reaction, hit the duck
I bring pain, bloodstains on what remains
Of his jacket
He had a gun he should've packed it
Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket
So I can reload and explode on ya [{*rasshole*}
I mess around and get hardcore
C-4 to your door, no beef no more
Feel the rough, scandalous
The more [{*weed*}] smoke I puff
The more dangerous
I don't give a damn about you or your weak crew
What you gonna do when Big Poppa come for you
I'm not runnin', chump, I bust my gun and
Hold on, I hear somebody comin'