The what

[Verse One: Notorious, Meth] I used to get feels on a bitch Now I throw shields on the dick To stop me from that HIV shit And niggaz know thet like a Twinkie filling Playin the villian Prepare for this rap killin Biggie Smallz is the illest Your style is played out, like Arnold wondered "What you talkin bout Willis?" The thrill is gone, the black Frank White is here to excite and throw dick toykes Bitches I like em brainless Guns I like em stainless steel I wan the fuckin Fortune like the Wheel I squeeze gats till my clips is empty Don't tempt me (T-H-O-D Man) You don't want to fuck with Biggie Here I am, I'll be damned if this ain't hit Come to spread butter deliverage over hominy grit It's the low killer death trap, yes I'm a jet black ninja Comin where you rest at, surrender Step inside the ring, youse the number one contender Lookin cold booty like your pussy in December Nigga stobitchin, button up ya lip and From Method all you gettin is a can of ass-whippin Hey, I'll be kickin, you son, you doin all the yappin Actin as if it can't happen You front and got me mad enough to touch somethin Yo I'm from Shaolin, Island, and ain't afraid to bust somethin So what cha want nigga, ya punk nigga I got a six-shooter and a horse named Trigger It's real, ninety-four, rugged raw Kickin down your god damn door (and it goes a lil somethin like this)