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nasty boy (unreleased version) - the notorious b.i.g. lyrics

[intro: notorious b.i.g]
uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh
this goes out to my brooklyn crew
representin on the freaky freaky
f-ck em all day f-ck em all night
we don’t love these hoes
uh, uh, you heard me!

[verse 1: the notorious b.i.g.]
i go on and on and on and
don’t take them to the crib unless they bonin’ (uh)
easy, call em on the phone and
platinum chanel cologne and
i stay, dressed, to impress
spark these b-tches interest
sex is all i expect
as they watch tv in the lex, they know
they know, quarter past 4
left the club tipsy, say no mo’
except how i’m gettin’ home tomorrow
cease’ll drop you off when he see his p.o
back of my mind i hope she swallow
man she spilled a drink on my cream wallows
reach the gate, hungry, just ate
riffin’, she got to be to work by eight
this must mean she ain’t tryna wait
conversate, sex on the first date
i state, “you know what you do to me?”
she starts off, “well i don’t usually”
then i whipped it out, rubber? no doubt
step out, show me what you all about
fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
pull your g-string down south (oww)
threw that back out, in the parking lot
by a cherokee and a green drop-top
and i don’t stop, until i squirt
jeans, skirt, b-tt-naked, it all work

[hook: the notorious b.i.g., janet jackson]
to all you b-tches wanna f-ck with me! (uh!)
biggie a nasty boy!
freakin’ you b-tches like jodeci! (uh!)
biggie a nasty boy!
if i was dead broke, you wouldn’t notice me (uh!)
biggie a nasty boy!
so i stake d-ck how it’s supposed to be (uh!)
biggie a nasty boy!

[verse 2]
i remember we went to tennessee
then we came home, mad messages was on my phone
b-tch named simone
screamin’, she fiendin’ for the semen
me bein’ the man that i am
took it to her condo pronto
half indian, i called her tonto
roll the chron’-chron’ in the dark pronto
few puffs, eyes got low
and off to the bedroom we go (mmm)
sex is drama, head is trauma
ripped pajamas, i’ma stay ’til tomorrow
satisfying all my needs twice
with whipped cream, handcuffs and ice
the b-tch is nice, word is bond
can’t wait to put my niggas on, what? what?

[verse 3: the notorious b.i.g.]
ladies, my mercedes
hold fo’ in the back, two if you’re fat
keep a gat for cats try to test me
they just fans like deniro, wesley
let’s see, the b-tch i’m waitin’ on
gardeur jeans look like they painted on
ask p., leave it up to me
lay her on back ever so gently
she like the way the dough fold up, rolls roll up
cristal till she throw up, b-tch grow up
hold up, there’s degenero
dripped to death, iceberg apparel
intro goes without speaking
call me cease cause i keep em, we can go freakin’
all weekend, so, roll in
ain’t it good that my lex seats foldin’? uhh

- the notorious b i g lyrics

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