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Song Analysis Essay I mean post the scene of the caper, Like a loc, with little Ceas in a choke (uh), Toting smoke, we aint no mother$#@*in joke, Thug Life, %;amp;@! *s better be known, Be approaching, In the wide open, gun smoking, No need for hoping, Its a battle lost, I gottem crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off, $%#^@, I hit em up [Outro 2Pac] Now you tell me who won, I see them, they run (ha ha), They dont wanna see us, Whole Junior Mafia clique, Dressing up trying to be us, How the #$%@ they gonna be the Mob? When we always on out job, We millionaires, Killing aint fair, But somebody got to do it. Oh yah Mobb Deep (uh), You wanna #$%@ with us, You Little young @%$ mother#$! ^ers, Dont one of you ? %#*@s got sickle-cell or something, Youre fucking with me, %^amp;@#? You #%?! around and catch a seizure or a heart-attack, You better back the #$%! Up, Before you get smacked the %amp;^@ up, This is how we do it on our side, Any of you %#! amp;@s from New York that want to bring it, Bring it. But we aint singing, We bringing drama, *;amp;^$ you and your mother %$*@ing mama. Were gonna kill all you mother ^($#ers. Now when I came out, I told you it was just about biggie. Then everybody had to open their mouth with a mother ? #@$ing opinion, Well this is how we gonna do this: ;amp;%#$ Mobb Deep, ;amp;%#$ Biggie, ;amp;%#$ Bad Boy as a staff, record label, and as a mother ;amp;%#$ing crew. And if you want to be down with Bad Boy, Then ;amp;%#$ you too. Chino XL, ;amp;%#$ you too. All you mother ;amp;%#$ers, ;amp;%#$ you too. (take money, take money) All of yall mother amp;%#$ers, amp;%#$ you, die slow motheramp;%#$er. My four four (. 44 magnum) make sure all your kids dont grow. You mother;amp;%#$ers cant be us or see us. We mother amp;%#$in Thug Life riders. West Side till we die. Out here in California, ! amp;%#$, We warned ya, Well bomb on you mother amp;%#$ers. We do our job. You think you the mob, %$? #@, we the motheramp;%#$in mob, Aint nothing but killers, And the real amp;%#! @s, all you motheramp;%#$ers feel us. Our $#! % goes triple and four quadruple, You ! amp;%#$s laugh cause our staff got guns under they mother;amp;%#$in belts, You know how it is and we drop records they felt, You ! amp;%#$s cant feel it, We the realist, ;amp;%#$ em. We Bad Boy killers.