I swear I wasn't cat-napping
To edge into your life
I didn't notice no sad thing
(It's a sundance)
To the strange strains that you entice
Now you may walk into an ocean view
(Exciting)
It's like you have understood
And I was just talking at you
Talking at you
For the good inside, the good inside of us
Do you send me?
No, you're a kind of dream
But somewhere in the scheme of things
We'll find who's Thursday's Child
We don't have to undo you
Or entertain your kind
Only reason I talk to you
Is 'cos I think you maybe, a heart attack is blind
And checking out your resume
And making out your plans
The kisses are not something we can talk about
They happened - and you laughed about it
Laugh out loud
Do you send me?
No, you're a kind of dream
But somewhere in the scheme of things
We'll find who's Thursday's Child
Once,
Is our boast
Do you?
Would you?
Only excite me
To join us is a talking clock
He tells us everything - we want him to stop
But somewhere in the corner
He's a-laughin', he's a-crying out loud
For some kind of attention which isn't shrouded by
Nicety is something which hangs around this stage
Believe me when I tell you - you can act around it
Mewl and puke about it
I don't want to hurt you
I just want to join in
This is a kindly creamer
A kindly crematorium
Do you send me?
No, you're a kind of dream
But somewhere in the scheme of things
We'll find who's Thursday's Child[Puff] Bad Boy baby
[Big] Yeah.. yeah..
Junior M.A.F.I.A., yeah..
[Puff] Yeah.. B.I.G. 2000
B.I.G. 2000 Born Again.. c'mon..
[Notorious B.I.G.]
The weak or the strong, who got it goin on
You're dead wrong
The weak or the strong, who got it goin on
You're dead wrong
[Notorious B.I.G.]
Relax and take notes, while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke
Throw you in a choke - gun smoke, gun smoke
Biggie Smalls for mayor, the rap slayer
The hooker layer - motherfucker say your prayers
Hail Mary full of grace.. smack the bitch in the face;
Take her Gucci bag and the North FaceÂÂÂ
Off her back, jab her if she act
Funny with the money oh you got me mistaken honey
I don't wanna rape ya, I just want the paper
The Visa, kapeesha? I'm out like, "The Vapors"
Who's the one you call Mr. Macho, the head honcho
Swift fist like Camacho, I got so
Much style I should be down wit the Stylistics
Make up to break up {*singing in background*} niggaz need to wake up
Smell the indonesia; beat you to a seizure
Then fuck your moms, hit the skins til amnesia
She don't remember shit! Just the two hits!
Her hittin the floor, and me hittin the clits!
Suckin on the tits! Had the hooker beggin for the dick
And your moms ain't ugly love; my dick got rock quick
I guess I was a combination of House of Pain and Bobby Brown
I was "Humpin Around" and "Jump-in Around"
Jacked her then I asked her who's the man; she said, "B-I-G"
Then I bust in her E-Y-E (Yo Big, you're dead wrong)
[Notorious B.I.G.]
The weak or the strong, who got it goin on
You're dead wrong
The weak or the strong, who got it goin on
You're dead wrong
The weak or the strong, who got it goin on
You're dead wrong
The weak or the strong, who got it goin on
You're dead wrong
"I don't care what nobody say"
"I don't care what nobody