{nl} You know the type of girl that walks in front of you and makesyour jaw drop?She talks in riddles, and sort of tickles your soft spotYou see her in the club. She treats you like a scrubShe ain’t trippin’ off you, she got your whole crew in loveYour day dreamin’ of getting her in the bedroom aloneStraight feedin’, You’s beg like a dog for the boneAnd she’s peepin’, and the reason is she knowsTheres a demon in between your legs with a mind of its ownNow, you’re a weakling, overwhelmed with hormonesY’all start speakin’, she grabs the number to your phoneAnd next weekend you invite her to your homeYou weren’t even thinking. You got played by a proShe’s a big shot. Thick lips, nice legs, green eyesTook advantage of a thousand. Only slept with three guysAin’t a hoe or a groupie. Jane Doe or a LucyHer innocent looks are deceving, so I’m telling you to be wiseI know she’s a cutie, but there’s power in that coochieUnderneath those booty tight, cutoff, daisy-dooksy Levi’sShe’s a big shot. You know your dream girlShe knows how to use her looks to take advantage of the worldShe’s a big shot. You thought you could school herShe dissed you like you were neutered, and told you to go get asexual tutorShe’s a big shot. She wouldn’t touch your rulerShe’s so beutiful. A cute but cruel looter, user and abuserShe’s a big shot. Your eyes are glued to her behindYou know her steeze, but you fall for it every timeNow, what about that popular school kid?The always have been, always will be cool kid?The class president valedictorian. ‘A plus’, star quaterbackCadillac convertible drivin’, signin’ cheerleaders autorgraphsThe letter on the jacket. Medal around the neckPin on his chest, and mind on his repHe only dates models. Drinks his Summit from the bottleWhen he walks he waddles, and he ain’t never lost a squabbleHe put you in the locker, and took your girlfriend to promHe’s in your life everyday, and you can’t wait ’til he’s goneBut daddy owns a business, so it won’t be longBefore he inherits it, makes carats, and sings a rich man’s songHe’s got the most expensive clothes and jewerly to wearWhile your looking for a job, he’s looking in the mirrorHe walks the halls surrounded by is fan clubStarts fads, ends trends, and hits the ceiling when he stands upHe’s a preppy, fame hoggin’, pig headed foolWhen he has a party, everyone’s invited except youAnd your crew. And there really ain’t nothin’ y’all can doHe’s in every state, city, and town, as long as they got a schoolHe’s a big shot. Thick knot in his walletParents got enough money to send your whole family to collegeHe’s a big shot. Testosterone thirstyHallway fahter figure with his masculianity stained on his jerseyHe’s a big shot. I.B. class whiz-kidBraggin’ about a big dick, that chick and this chickHe’s a big shot..My favorites are rappers, the egoistical bastardsThe people that never clap for your set, they think you’re whackerThan them ’cause they’re the mastersI bet disaster is caused in their mind when you rhymeand plaster their jaws shut with a fat verseTo him you’re a hazard. Weak matter. A reason for laughterHe’s preachin’ he’s live. But he’s only that word backwardsAfter he dies, you can climb the ladder, start a chapterArt you’ll capture finally.But while he breathes, m.c.’s don;t even flatter himAdd a tad if his acrobatical arroganceTo his genteically engineered emotional pattern of tearin’ kids in battles That’ll explain why he mean mugs. He told ya’ your team sucksSaid you dream of choking him with that mic cordInstead, he blows your mind straight out your headHe says,  ‘F**k You!’ with clarity. You cry hystericallyAs it makes a parody of your passionYou tell friends you think he’s tightbut secretly, you hope his career won’t be lasting’Cause he’s an asshole. But you know he’s got nice soundYou know what else? Your looking at him right nowI’m a big shot. Don’t front, you know you love meGirls never wash their hands after they get a chance to touch meI’m a big shot. Hey, you can say I’m a creepBut put me in a room with your idols and I’ll make ’em look weakI’m a big shot. Shit, can nobody fade meThe only way we can do a song is if somebody pays meI’m a big shot. Big Shot. Big PropsThe best thing to ever happen in the history of hip hop

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