Lyrics:

Here we go, here we go
Here we go, here we go

I was a terror since the public school era
Bathroom passes, cuttin' classes, squeezing asses
Smoking blunts was a daily routine
Since thirteen, a chubby nigga on the scene

I used to have the tre' duce
And the duce, duce in my bubble goose
Now I got the mack in my knapsack
Loungin' black, smoking sacks up in acts
And sidekicks with my sidekicks rockin' fly kicks

Honeys want to chat
But all we wanna know is, where the party at?
And can I bring my gat? If not, I hope I don't get shot
But I throw my vest on my chest 'cause niggaz is a mess

It don't take nothin' but frontin' for me to start somethin'
Buggin' and barkin' at niggaz like I was duck huntin'
Dumbing out, just me and my crew
'Cause all we wanna do is

And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and

Hugs from the honeys, pounds from the roughnecks
Seen my man Sei that I knew from the projects
Said he had beef, asked me if I had my peace
Sure do, two twenty two's in my shoes

Holler if you need me love, I'm in the house
Roam and strollin' see what the honeys is about
Moet popping, hoe hopping
Ain't no stopping Big Poppa, I'm a bad boy

Niggaz wanna front, who got your back?
(Biggie)
Niggaz wanna flex, who got the gat?
(Biggie)
It ain't hard to tell I'm the east coast over doser
Nigga, you scared you're supposed to

Nigga, I told ya, put fear in your heart
Fuck up the party before it even start
Pissy drunk, off the Henny and stuff
Or some brand-nubian shit beatin' down punks

And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and

Bitches in the back looking righteous
In a tight dress
I think I might just hit her with a little Biggie 101
How to tote a gun and have fun with Jamaican rum

Conversations, blunts in rotation
My man Big Jacques got the glock in his waist
And we're smoking, drinking, got the hooker thinking
If money smell bad than this nigga Biggie stinking

Is it my charm? I got the hookers eatin' out my palm
She grabbed my arm and said, 'Let's leave calm'
I'm hittin' skins again, rolled up another blunt, bought a Heineken
Niggaz start to loke out, a kid got choked out
Blows was thrown and a fucking fight broke out

Can't we just all get along?
So I can put hickies on her chest like Li'l Shawn
Get her pissy drunk off of Don Perrignon
And it's on and I'm gone, that's that

Party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
(Junior Mafia likes that)

And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
(Uptown likes that)
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
(Bad Boy likes that)

And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
(Brooklyn Crew likes that)
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
(Third Eye likes that)
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit