Kick in the Door - 2008 chords by The Notorious B.I.G.

SimplifiedC · F · Bb · Cm · E …

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Intro 1
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Verse 1
C 
Your reign on
F 
the top was short like leprechauns
As I crush so-called willies, willies,
thugs, and rapper-dons
C 
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Get Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan
Its that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda,
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fuck fuck Poppa
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You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White
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In tank-light totes, totes, tote iron
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Was told in shootouts, stay low,
and keep firin
Cm 
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C 
Keep extra clips for ex tra shit
Who's next to flip,
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on that cat with that grip on rap
The mo shady,
"Tell em!", Frankie baby
C 
Ain't no telling where I may be
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May see me in D.C. at Howard
Homecoming
With my man Capone, dumbing, fucking
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something
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You should know my steelo
Went from ten G's for blow
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to thirty G's a show
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To orgies with hoes I never seen before
C 
So, Jesus, get off the Notorious
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Penis, before I squeeze and bust
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If the beef between us, we can settle it
C 
With the chrome and metal shit
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I make it hot, like a kettle get
You're delicate, you better get,
who sent ya?
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You still pedal shit,
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I got more rides than Great Adventure
C 
Biggie, "How are you gonna do it?"

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Verse 2

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All All you heard was Poppa

Verse 3

don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All All you heard was Poppa

Verse 4

don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All All you heard was Poppa

Verse 5

don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All All you heard was Poppa

don't hit me no more

Verse 6
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On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet
Look how dark it get,
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when ya marked with death
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Should I start your breath should I let you die
In fear you start to cry, ask why
C 
F 
Lyrically, I'm worser,
don't front the word sick
You cursed it, but rehearsed it
C 
F 
I drop unexpectedly like bird shit
C 
You herbs get, stuck quickly for
royalties and show money
F 
Don't forget the publishing,
I punish em, I'm done with them
Son, I'm surprised you run with them
C 
I think they got cum in them,
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cause they, nothing but dicks
Trying to blow up like nitro
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an  d dynamite sticks
B 
F 
Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds,
that's sick
Got pay off my flow,
C 
rhyme with my own click
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Take trips to Cairo, laying with yo bitch
I know you praying you was rich,
C 
fucking prick

Verse 7

When I see ya I'ma

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All All you heard was Poppa

don't hit me no more

Verse 8

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All All you heard was Poppa

Verse 9

don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All All you heard was Poppa

Verse 10

don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, waving the four-four

All All you heard was Poppa

Verse 11
don't hit me no more
C 
F 
This goes out for those that
choose to use
Disrespectful views on the King of NY
C 
F 
Fuck that, why try,
throw bleach in your eye
Now ya Braille in it, stash that light shit,
or scalin it
C 
F 
Conscience of ya nonsense
in eighty-eight
Sold Sold more powder than Johnson
and Johnson
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F 
Tote steel like Bronson, vigilante
Cm 
You want to get on son,
C 
you need to ask me
F 
Ain't no other king in this
rap thing
They siblings,
nothing but my children
One shot, they disappearing
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F 
Its ill when,
MC's used to be on cruddy shit
Took home, Ready to Die,
listened, studied shit
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Now they on some money shit,
successful out the blue
They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly
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Make the white shake,
that's why my money never funny
And you still recouping, stupid