Song Lyrics

I'm coming out
I'm coming
I'm coming out
I'm coming

Now, who's hot, who not?
Tell me who rock, who sell out in the stores?
You tell me who flopped, who copped the blue drop?
Whose jewels got rocks?
Who's mostly Dolce down to the tube sock?
The same old pimp, Ma$e
You know ain't nothing change but my limp
Can't stop till I see my name on a blimp
Guarantee a million sales, call it level up
You don't believe in Harlem World, nigga, double up
We don't play around, it's a bet, lay it down
Niggas didn't know me '91, bet they know me now
I'm the young Harlem nigga with the Goldie sound
Can't no Ph.D. niggas hold me down
Cudda schooled me to the game, now I know my duty
Stay humble, stay low, blow like Hootie
True pimp niggas spend no dough on the booty
And then you yell, "there go Mase!" there go your cutie

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

I'm the D to the A to the D-D-Y
Know you'd rather see me die than to see me fly
I call all the shots
Rip all the spots, rock all the rocks, cop all the drops
I know you thinking now when all the balling stops
Nigga never home, gotta call me on the yacht
10 years from now we'll still be on top
Yo, I thought I told you that we won't stop
Now what you gon' do with a crew that got money much longer than yours
And a team much stronger than yours?
Violate me, this'll be your day, we don't play
Mess around, be D.O.A. be on your way
'Cause it ain't enough time here
Ain't enough lime here for you to shine here
Deal with many women but treat dimes fair
And I'm bigger than the city lights down in Times Square

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

B-I-G P-O-P-P-A, no info for the DEA
Federal agents mad 'cause I'm flagrant
Tap my cell and the phone in the basement
My team supreme, stay clean
Triple beam lyrical dream, I be that
Cat you see at all events bent
Gats in holsters, girls on shoulders
Playboy, I told ya, mere mics to me
Bruise too much, I lose too much
Step on stage, the girls boo too much
I guess it's 'cause you run with lame dudes too much
Me lose my touch? Never that
If I did, ain't no problem to get the gat
Where the true players at? Throw your Rollies in the sky
Wave 'em side to side and keep your hands high
While I give your girl the eye, player please
Lyrically, niggas see B.I.G be flossing
Jig on the cover of Fortune, 5 double O
Here's my phone number, your man ain't got to know
I got the dough, got the flow down pizat
Platinum plus like thizat
Dangerous on trizacks leave your ass flizat

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

Christopher Wallace, Sean Combs, Mason Betha, Bernard Edwards, Steve Jordan, J Phillips, Nile Gregory Rodgers