[{"id":12924530,"name":"The Notorious B.I.G. - Kick in the Door (Official Audio)","trackName":"The Notorious B.I.G. - Kick in the Door (Official Audio)","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"The Notorious B.I.G. Videos","duration":287.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie)\nUh, uh-huh\nUh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you (uh)\n\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\nGet in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou gotta call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\nKeep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\nWho's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\nAin't no tellin' where I may be\nMay see me in D.C.\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\nFuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\nJesus! Get off the Notorious'\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\nBiggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\nOn ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\nShould I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\nIn fear, you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\nDon't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of NY\nFuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\nNow ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recoupin', stupid!\nStupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The Notorious B.I.G. - Kick in the Door (Official Audio)\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: The Notorious B.I.G. Videos\n duration_ms: 287000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n (Biggie)\n Uh, uh-huh\n Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you (uh)\n\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You gotta call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\n Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n May see me in D.C.\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\n Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\n On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\n Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recoupin', stupid!\n Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n"},{"id":12679951,"name":"10-Notorious B.I.G - Kick In The Door-RGF","trackName":"10-Notorious B.I.G - Kick In The Door-RGF","artistName":"Notorious B.I.G","albumName":"Notorious","duration":215.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie)\nUh, uh-huh\nUh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you (uh)\n\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\nGet in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou gotta call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\nKeep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\nWho's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\nAin't no tellin' where I may be\nMay see me in D.C.\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\nFuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\nJesus! Get off the Notorious'\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\nBiggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\nOn ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\nShould I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\nIn fear, you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\nDon't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of NY\nFuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\nNow ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recoupin', stupid!\nStupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.58] (Biggie)\n[00:02.96] Uh, uh-huh\n[00:06.15] Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:09.09] This goes out to you\n[00:10.64] And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[00:14.31] This goes out to you\n[00:16.99] This goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:19.56] This goes out to you\n[00:21.43] And you, and you (uh)\n[00:23.53] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[00:26.14] As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n[00:29.38] Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n[00:31.44] It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n[00:34.69] You gotta call me Francis M.H\n[00:37.25] White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n[00:39.65] Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n[00:42.39] Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n[00:44.49] Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n[00:47.56] The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n[00:49.54] Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n[00:51.41] May see me in D.C.\n[00:52.93] At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n[00:55.46] Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n[00:58.36] Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n[01:00.96] To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n[01:04.00] Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n[01:06.66] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[01:08.70] If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n[01:12.50] I make it hot like a kettle get\n[01:14.06] You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n[01:16.78] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n[01:19.87] Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n[01:22.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:25.03] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:27.77] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:30.36] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:33.05] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:35.67] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[01:38.22] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[01:40.96] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n[01:43.59] On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n[01:46.17] Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n[01:48.85] Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n[01:51.44] In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n[01:53.75] Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n[01:56.91] You cursed it but rehearsed it\n[01:58.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n[02:02.05] Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[02:04.69] Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n[02:07.84] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[02:09.98] I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n[02:12.81] Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[02:15.66] Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n[02:18.55] Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n[02:20.67] Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n[02:23.32] I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n[02:26.56] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[02:29.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n[02:31.73] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:34.35] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:37.20] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:39.80] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[02:42.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:45.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:47.84] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[02:50.09] Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n[02:52.99] Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n[02:55.58] Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n[02:58.45] Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n[03:01.01] Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n[03:03.74] Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n[03:06.15] You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n[03:09.06] Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n[03:11.69] Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n[03:14.58] It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n[03:17.10] Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n[03:19.80] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[03:22.16] They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n[03:24.85] Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n[03:27.79] And you still recoupin', stupid!\n[03:29.89] Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n[03:31.14] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: 10-Notorious B.I.G - Kick In The Door-RGF\n artist: Notorious B.I.G\n album: Notorious\n duration_ms: 215000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Biggie)\n start_ms: 1580\n end_ms: 2960\n- text: Uh, uh-huh\n start_ms: 2960\n end_ms: 6150\n- text: Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 6150\n end_ms: 9090\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 9090\n end_ms: 10640\n- text: And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 10640\n end_ms: 14310\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 14310\n end_ms: 16990\n- text: This goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 16990\n end_ms: 19560\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 19560\n end_ms: 21430\n- text: And you, and you (uh)\n start_ms: 21430\n end_ms: 23530\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 23530\n end_ms: 26140\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n start_ms: 26140\n end_ms: 29380\n- text: Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n start_ms: 29380\n end_ms: 31440\n- text: It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n start_ms: 31440\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: You gotta call me Francis M.H\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 37250\n- text: White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n start_ms: 37250\n end_ms: 39650\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n start_ms: 39650\n end_ms: 42390\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 42390\n end_ms: 44490\n- text: Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n start_ms: 44490\n end_ms: 47560\n- text: The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n start_ms: 47560\n end_ms: 49540\n- text: Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n start_ms: 49540\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: May see me in D.C.\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 52930\n- text: At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n start_ms: 52930\n end_ms: 55460\n- text: Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n start_ms: 55460\n end_ms: 58360\n- text: Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n start_ms: 58360\n end_ms: 60960\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n start_ms: 60960\n end_ms: 64000\n- text: Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n start_ms: 64000\n end_ms: 66660\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 66660\n end_ms: 68700\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 68700\n end_ms: 72500\n- text: I make it hot like a kettle get\n start_ms: 72500\n end_ms: 74060\n- text: You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n start_ms: 74060\n end_ms: 76780\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n start_ms: 76780\n end_ms: 79870\n- text: Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n start_ms: 79870\n end_ms: 82420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 82420\n end_ms: 85030\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 85030\n end_ms: 87770\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 87770\n end_ms: 90360\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 90360\n end_ms: 93050\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 93050\n end_ms: 95670\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 95670\n end_ms: 98220\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 98220\n end_ms: 100960\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n start_ms: 100960\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 106170\n- text: Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n start_ms: 106170\n end_ms: 108850\n- text: Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n start_ms: 108850\n end_ms: 111440\n- text: In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 111440\n end_ms: 113750\n- text: Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n start_ms: 113750\n end_ms: 116910\n- text: You cursed it but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 116910\n end_ms: 118590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n start_ms: 118590\n end_ms: 122050\n- text: Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 122050\n end_ms: 124690\n- text: Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 124690\n end_ms: 127840\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 127840\n end_ms: 129980\n- text: I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n start_ms: 129980\n end_ms: 132810\n- text: Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 132810\n end_ms: 135660\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n start_ms: 135660\n end_ms: 138550\n- text: Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n start_ms: 138550\n end_ms: 140670\n- text: Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n start_ms: 140670\n end_ms: 143320\n- text: I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n start_ms: 143320\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 149130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n start_ms: 149130\n end_ms: 151730\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 151730\n end_ms: 154350\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 154350\n end_ms: 157200\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 157200\n end_ms: 159800\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 159800\n end_ms: 162420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 162420\n end_ms: 165130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 165130\n end_ms: 167840\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 167840\n end_ms: 170090\n- text: Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n start_ms: 170090\n end_ms: 172990\n- text: Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n start_ms: 172990\n end_ms: 175580\n- text: Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n start_ms: 175580\n end_ms: 178450\n- text: Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n start_ms: 178450\n end_ms: 181010\n- text: Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n start_ms: 181010\n end_ms: 183740\n- text: Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n start_ms: 183740\n end_ms: 186150\n- text: You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n start_ms: 186150\n end_ms: 189060\n- text: Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n start_ms: 189060\n end_ms: 191690\n- text: Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n start_ms: 191690\n end_ms: 194580\n- text: It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 194580\n end_ms: 197100\n- text: Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 197100\n end_ms: 199800\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 199800\n end_ms: 202160\n- text: They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n start_ms: 202160\n end_ms: 204850\n- text: Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n start_ms: 204850\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: And you still recoupin', stupid!\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 209890\n- text: Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n start_ms: 209890\n end_ms: 211140\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 211140\nplain: |-\n (Biggie)\n Uh, uh-huh\n Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you (uh)\n\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You gotta call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\n Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n May see me in D.C.\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\n Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\n On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\n Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recoupin', stupid!\n Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n"},{"id":32794989,"name":"notorious b.i.g-kick in the door","trackName":"notorious b.i.g-kick in the door","artistName":"Soundtracks","albumName":"Notorious B.I.G","duration":215.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie!)\nUh!\nUh-huh!\nUh, this goes out to (Biggie!) you\nThis goes out to you!\nAnd you! And you (Biggie!) And you!\nThis goes out to you!\nThis goes out to (Biggie!) you!\nThis goes out to you!\nAnd you! And you! Uh!\n\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called Willies, thugs, and rapper-dons. (uh!)\nGet in that ass, quick fast, like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon, Don-Dadda!\nFuck Poppa! - You gotto - call me Francis M.H\nWhite in tank-light totes! - Tote iron!\nWas told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin'\nKeep extra clips for extra shit. (uh-huh!)\n\nWho's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\nThe most shady! (Tell em!) - Frankie baby!\nAin't no tellin' where I may be\nMay see me - in D.C. at Howard Homecomin'\nWith my man Capone, dumbin'\nFuckin somethin'! - You should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo'\n\nSo - Jesus, get off the Notorious'\nPenis; before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us - we can settle it\nWith the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot - like a kettle get!\nYou're delicate, you better get\nWho sent ya? - You still pedal shit!\nI got more rides than Great Adventure! - Biggie! (\"How are you gonna do it? \")\n\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\nAll you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\nAll you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\nAll you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \" (Biggie!)\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four! (uh-huh!)\nAll you heard was: (uh!) \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n\nOn ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get, when ya marked with death. (uh!)\nShould I start your breath should I let you die\nIn fear you start to cry, ask: \"Why? \"\nLyrically, I'm worser! - Don't front the word sick\nYou cursed it - but rehearsed it!\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit\nYou herbs get! - Stuck quickly for royalties and show money!\nDon't forget the publishin - I punish 'em (uh!) I'm done with them (uh-huh!)\n\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them!\nI think they got come in them! - Cause they - nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks!\nMad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick!\nGot pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click!\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' with yo bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick! - When I see ya I'm a\n\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\nAll you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\nAll you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\nAll you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \" (Biggie!)\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four! (uh-huh!)\nAll you heard was: (uh!) \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the \"King Of NY\"\nFuck that! - Why try? Throw bleach in your eye!\nNow ya Braille in it! - Stash that light shit - or scalin' it!\nConscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\nSold more powder than - Johnson and Johnson!\nTote steel like Bronson. - vigilante!\nYou wanna get on son. - You need to ask me!\n\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothing but my chil'ren; one shot, they disappearin'! (uh!)\nIt's I'll when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home! - +Ready To Die+, listened, studied shit!\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey light weight. - Fragilly, my .9 milly, make the white shake! That's why my money never funny! And you still recoupin'! - Stupid!","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.28] (Biggie!)\n[00:03.58] Uh!\n[00:04.73] Uh-huh!\n[00:06.04] Uh, this goes out to (Biggie!) you\n[00:09.13] This goes out to you!\n[00:10.81] And you! And you (Biggie!) And you!\n[00:14.60] This goes out to you!\n[00:17.32] This goes out to (Biggie!) you!\n[00:19.84] This goes out to you!\n[00:21.38] And you! And you! Uh!\n[00:24.15] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[00:26.63] As I crush so-called Willies, thugs, and rapper-dons. (uh!)\n[00:29.33] Get in that ass, quick fast, like Ramadan\n[00:31.69] It's that rap phenomenon, Don-Dadda!\n[00:33.99] Fuck Poppa! - You gotto - call me Francis M.H\n[00:37.41] White in tank-light totes! - Tote iron!\n[00:39.84] Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin'\n[00:42.57] Keep extra clips for extra shit. (uh-huh!)\n[00:44.77] Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n[00:47.70] The most shady! (Tell em!) - Frankie baby!\n[00:49.53] Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n[00:51.19] May see me - in D.C. at Howard Homecomin'\n[00:54.09] With my man Capone, dumbin'\n[00:55.46] Fuckin somethin'! - You should know my steelo\n[00:58.54] Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show\n[01:01.14] To orgies with hoes I never seen befo'\n[01:03.75] So - Jesus, get off the Notorious'\n[01:06.77] Penis; before I squeeze and bust\n[01:08.85] If the beef between us - we can settle it\n[01:11.40] With the chrome and metal shit\n[01:12.69] I make it hot - like a kettle get!\n[01:14.34] You're delicate, you better get\n[01:16.07] Who sent ya? - You still pedal shit!\n[01:17.71] I got more rides than Great Adventure! - Biggie! (\"How are you gonna do it? \")\n[01:22.38] Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n[01:25.28] All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n[01:27.71] Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n[01:30.37] All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n[01:33.00] Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n[01:35.95] All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \" (Biggie!)\n[01:38.44] Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four! (uh-huh!)\n[01:41.25] All you heard was: (uh!) \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n[01:43.77] On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n[01:46.47] Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death. (uh!)\n[01:49.14] Should I start your breath should I let you die\n[01:51.57] In fear you start to cry, ask: \"Why? \"\n[01:53.97] Lyrically, I'm worser! - Don't front the word sick\n[01:57.19] You cursed it - but rehearsed it!\n[01:59.13] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n[02:01.34] You herbs get! - Stuck quickly for royalties and show money!\n[02:05.09] Don't forget the publishin - I punish 'em (uh!) I'm done with them (uh-huh!)\n[02:08.26] Son, I'm surprised you run with them!\n[02:09.73] I think they got come in them! - Cause they - nothin' but dicks\n[02:12.97] Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks!\n[02:15.62] Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick!\n[02:18.36] Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click!\n[02:20.71] Take trips to Cairo, layin' with yo bitch\n[02:23.47] I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick! - When I see ya I'm a\n[02:26.23] Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n[02:29.17] All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n[02:31.76] Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n[02:34.41] All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n[02:36.80] Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n[02:39.54] All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \" (Biggie!)\n[02:42.12] Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four! (uh-huh!)\n[02:44.78] All you heard was: (uh!) \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n[02:47.52] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[02:50.23] Disrespectful views on the \"King Of NY\"\n[02:52.84] Fuck that! - Why try? Throw bleach in your eye!\n[02:55.44] Now ya Braille in it! - Stash that light shit - or scalin' it!\n[02:58.59] Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n[03:01.09] Sold more powder than - Johnson and Johnson!\n[03:03.90] Tote steel like Bronson. - vigilante!\n[03:06.16] You wanna get on son. - You need to ask me!\n[03:08.97] Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n[03:11.83] Nothing but my chil'ren; one shot, they disappearin'! (uh!)\n[03:14.65] It's I'll when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n[03:17.25] Took home! - +Ready To Die+, listened, studied shit!\n[03:20.13] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[03:22.58] They light weight. - Fragilly, my .9 milly, make the white shake! That's why my money never funny! And you still recoupin'! - Stupid!\n[03:30.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: notorious b.i.g-kick in the door\n artist: Soundtracks\n album: Notorious B.I.G\n duration_ms: 215000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Biggie!)\n start_ms: 1280\n end_ms: 3580\n- text: Uh!\n start_ms: 3580\n end_ms: 4730\n- text: Uh-huh!\n start_ms: 4730\n end_ms: 6040\n- text: Uh, this goes out to (Biggie!) you\n start_ms: 6040\n end_ms: 9130\n- text: This goes out to you!\n start_ms: 9130\n end_ms: 10810\n- text: And you! And you (Biggie!) And you!\n start_ms: 10810\n end_ms: 14600\n- text: This goes out to you!\n start_ms: 14600\n end_ms: 17320\n- text: This goes out to (Biggie!) you!\n start_ms: 17320\n end_ms: 19840\n- text: This goes out to you!\n start_ms: 19840\n end_ms: 21380\n- text: And you! And you! Uh!\n start_ms: 21380\n end_ms: 24150\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 24150\n end_ms: 26630\n- text: As I crush so-called Willies, thugs, and rapper-dons. (uh!)\n start_ms: 26630\n end_ms: 29330\n- text: Get in that ass, quick fast, like Ramadan\n start_ms: 29330\n end_ms: 31690\n- text: It's that rap phenomenon, Don-Dadda!\n start_ms: 31690\n end_ms: 33990\n- text: Fuck Poppa! - You gotto - call me Francis M.H\n start_ms: 33990\n end_ms: 37410\n- text: White in tank-light totes! - Tote iron!\n start_ms: 37410\n end_ms: 39840\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin'\n start_ms: 39840\n end_ms: 42570\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit. (uh-huh!)\n start_ms: 42570\n end_ms: 44770\n- text: Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n start_ms: 44770\n end_ms: 47700\n- text: The most shady! (Tell em!) - Frankie baby!\n start_ms: 47700\n end_ms: 49530\n- text: Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n start_ms: 49530\n end_ms: 51190\n- text: May see me - in D.C. at Howard Homecomin'\n start_ms: 51190\n end_ms: 54090\n- text: With my man Capone, dumbin'\n start_ms: 54090\n end_ms: 55460\n- text: Fuckin somethin'! - You should know my steelo\n start_ms: 55460\n end_ms: 58540\n- text: Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show\n start_ms: 58540\n end_ms: 61140\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen befo'\n start_ms: 61140\n end_ms: 63750\n- text: So - Jesus, get off the Notorious'\n start_ms: 63750\n end_ms: 66770\n- text: Penis; before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 66770\n end_ms: 68850\n- text: If the beef between us - we can settle it\n start_ms: 68850\n end_ms: 71400\n- text: With the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 71400\n end_ms: 72690\n- text: I make it hot - like a kettle get!\n start_ms: 72690\n end_ms: 74340\n- text: You're delicate, you better get\n start_ms: 74340\n end_ms: 76070\n- text: Who sent ya? - You still pedal shit!\n start_ms: 76070\n end_ms: 77710\n- text: I got more rides than Great Adventure! - Biggie! (\"How are you gonna do it? \")\n start_ms: 77710\n end_ms: 82380\n- text: Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n start_ms: 82380\n end_ms: 85280\n- text: 'All you heard was: \"Poppa don''t hit me no more! \"'\n start_ms: 85280\n end_ms: 87710\n- text: Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n start_ms: 87710\n end_ms: 90370\n- text: 'All you heard was: \"Poppa don''t hit me no more! \"'\n start_ms: 90370\n end_ms: 93000\n- text: Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n start_ms: 93000\n end_ms: 95950\n- text: 'All you heard was: \"Poppa don''t hit me no more! \" (Biggie!)'\n start_ms: 95950\n end_ms: 98440\n- text: Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four! (uh-huh!)\n start_ms: 98440\n end_ms: 101250\n- text: 'All you heard was: (uh!) \"Poppa don''t hit me no more! \"'\n start_ms: 101250\n end_ms: 103770\n- text: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 103770\n end_ms: 106470\n- text: Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death. (uh!)\n start_ms: 106470\n end_ms: 109140\n- text: Should I start your breath should I let you die\n start_ms: 109140\n end_ms: 111570\n- text: 'In fear you start to cry, ask: \"Why? \"'\n start_ms: 111570\n end_ms: 113970\n- text: Lyrically, I'm worser! - Don't front the word sick\n start_ms: 113970\n end_ms: 117190\n- text: You cursed it - but rehearsed it!\n start_ms: 117190\n end_ms: 119130\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n start_ms: 119130\n end_ms: 121340\n- text: You herbs get! - Stuck quickly for royalties and show money!\n start_ms: 121340\n end_ms: 125090\n- text: Don't forget the publishin - I punish 'em (uh!) I'm done with them (uh-huh!)\n start_ms: 125090\n end_ms: 128260\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them!\n start_ms: 128260\n end_ms: 129730\n- text: I think they got come in them! - Cause they - nothin' but dicks\n start_ms: 129730\n end_ms: 132970\n- text: Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks!\n start_ms: 132970\n end_ms: 135620\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick!\n start_ms: 135620\n end_ms: 138360\n- text: Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click!\n start_ms: 138360\n end_ms: 140710\n- text: Take trips to Cairo, layin' with yo bitch\n start_ms: 140710\n end_ms: 143470\n- text: I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick! - When I see ya I'm a\n start_ms: 143470\n end_ms: 146230\n- text: Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n start_ms: 146230\n end_ms: 149170\n- text: 'All you heard was: \"Poppa don''t hit me no more! \"'\n start_ms: 149170\n end_ms: 151760\n- text: Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n start_ms: 151760\n end_ms: 154410\n- text: 'All you heard was: \"Poppa don''t hit me no more! \"'\n start_ms: 154410\n end_ms: 156800\n- text: Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n start_ms: 156800\n end_ms: 159540\n- text: 'All you heard was: \"Poppa don''t hit me no more! \" (Biggie!)'\n start_ms: 159540\n end_ms: 162120\n- text: Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four! (uh-huh!)\n start_ms: 162120\n end_ms: 164780\n- text: 'All you heard was: (uh!) \"Poppa don''t hit me no more! \"'\n start_ms: 164780\n end_ms: 167520\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 167520\n end_ms: 170230\n- text: Disrespectful views on the \"King Of NY\"\n start_ms: 170230\n end_ms: 172840\n- text: Fuck that! - Why try? Throw bleach in your eye!\n start_ms: 172840\n end_ms: 175440\n- text: Now ya Braille in it! - Stash that light shit - or scalin' it!\n start_ms: 175440\n end_ms: 178590\n- text: Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n start_ms: 178590\n end_ms: 181090\n- text: Sold more powder than - Johnson and Johnson!\n start_ms: 181090\n end_ms: 183900\n- text: Tote steel like Bronson. - vigilante!\n start_ms: 183900\n end_ms: 186160\n- text: You wanna get on son. - You need to ask me!\n start_ms: 186160\n end_ms: 188970\n- text: Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n start_ms: 188970\n end_ms: 191830\n- text: Nothing but my chil'ren; one shot, they disappearin'! (uh!)\n start_ms: 191830\n end_ms: 194650\n- text: It's I'll when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 194650\n end_ms: 197250\n- text: Took home! - +Ready To Die+, listened, studied shit!\n start_ms: 197250\n end_ms: 200130\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 200130\n end_ms: 202580\n- text: They light weight. - Fragilly, my .9 milly, make the white shake! That's why my money never funny! And you still recoupin'! - Stupid!\n start_ms: 202580\n end_ms: 210680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 210680\nplain: |-\n (Biggie!)\n Uh!\n Uh-huh!\n Uh, this goes out to (Biggie!) you\n This goes out to you!\n And you! And you (Biggie!) And you!\n This goes out to you!\n This goes out to (Biggie!) you!\n This goes out to you!\n And you! And you! Uh!\n\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called Willies, thugs, and rapper-dons. (uh!)\n Get in that ass, quick fast, like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon, Don-Dadda!\n Fuck Poppa! - You gotto - call me Francis M.H\n White in tank-light totes! - Tote iron!\n Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin'\n Keep extra clips for extra shit. (uh-huh!)\n\n Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n The most shady! (Tell em!) - Frankie baby!\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n May see me - in D.C. at Howard Homecomin'\n With my man Capone, dumbin'\n Fuckin somethin'! - You should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo'\n\n So - Jesus, get off the Notorious'\n Penis; before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us - we can settle it\n With the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot - like a kettle get!\n You're delicate, you better get\n Who sent ya? - You still pedal shit!\n I got more rides than Great Adventure! - Biggie! (\"How are you gonna do it? \")\n\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \" (Biggie!)\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four! (uh-huh!)\n All you heard was: (uh!) \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n\n On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death. (uh!)\n Should I start your breath should I let you die\n In fear you start to cry, ask: \"Why? \"\n Lyrically, I'm worser! - Don't front the word sick\n You cursed it - but rehearsed it!\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n You herbs get! - Stuck quickly for royalties and show money!\n Don't forget the publishin - I punish 'em (uh!) I'm done with them (uh-huh!)\n\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them!\n I think they got come in them! - Cause they - nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks!\n Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick!\n Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click!\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' with yo bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick! - When I see ya I'm a\n\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \" (Biggie!)\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four! (uh-huh!)\n All you heard was: (uh!) \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the \"King Of NY\"\n Fuck that! - Why try? Throw bleach in your eye!\n Now ya Braille in it! - Stash that light shit - or scalin' it!\n Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n Sold more powder than - Johnson and Johnson!\n Tote steel like Bronson. - vigilante!\n You wanna get on son. - You need to ask me!\n\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothing but my chil'ren; one shot, they disappearin'! (uh!)\n It's I'll when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home! - +Ready To Die+, listened, studied shit!\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They light weight. - Fragilly, my .9 milly, make the white shake! That's why my money never funny! And you still recoupin'! - Stupid!\n"},{"id":6575160,"name":"Kick in the Door","trackName":"Kick in the Door","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Notorious","duration":214.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie)\nUh, uh-huh\nUh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you (uh)\n\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\nGet in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou gotta call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\nKeep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\nWho's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\nAin't no tellin' where I may be\nMay see me in D.C.\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\nFuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\nJesus! Get off the Notorious'\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\nBiggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\nOn ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\nShould I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\nIn fear, you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\nDon't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of NY\nFuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\nNow ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recoupin', stupid!\nStupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.58] (Biggie)\n[00:02.96] Uh, uh-huh\n[00:06.15] Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:09.09] This goes out to you\n[00:10.64] And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[00:14.31] This goes out to you\n[00:16.99] This goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:19.56] This goes out to you\n[00:21.43] And you, and you (uh)\n[00:23.53] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[00:26.14] As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n[00:29.38] Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n[00:31.44] It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n[00:34.69] You gotta call me Francis M.H\n[00:37.25] White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n[00:39.65] Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n[00:42.39] Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n[00:44.49] Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n[00:47.56] The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n[00:49.54] Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n[00:51.41] May see me in D.C.\n[00:52.93] At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n[00:55.46] Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n[00:58.36] Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n[01:00.96] To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n[01:04.00] Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n[01:06.66] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[01:08.70] If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n[01:12.50] I make it hot like a kettle get\n[01:14.06] You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n[01:16.78] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n[01:19.87] Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n[01:22.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:25.03] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:27.77] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:30.36] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:33.05] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:35.67] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[01:38.22] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[01:40.96] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n[01:43.59] On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n[01:46.17] Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n[01:48.85] Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n[01:51.44] In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n[01:53.75] Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n[01:56.91] You cursed it but rehearsed it\n[01:58.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n[02:02.05] Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[02:04.69] Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n[02:07.84] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[02:09.98] I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n[02:12.81] Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[02:15.66] Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n[02:18.55] Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n[02:20.67] Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n[02:23.32] I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n[02:26.56] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[02:29.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n[02:31.73] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:34.35] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:37.20] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:39.80] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[02:42.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:45.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:47.84] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[02:50.09] Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n[02:52.99] Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n[02:55.58] Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n[02:58.45] Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n[03:01.01] Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n[03:03.74] Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n[03:06.15] You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n[03:09.06] Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n[03:11.69] Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n[03:14.58] It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n[03:17.10] Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n[03:19.80] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[03:22.16] They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n[03:24.85] Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n[03:27.79] And you still recoupin', stupid!\n[03:29.89] Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n[03:31.14] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick in the Door\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: Notorious\n duration_ms: 214000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Biggie)\n start_ms: 1580\n end_ms: 2960\n- text: Uh, uh-huh\n start_ms: 2960\n end_ms: 6150\n- text: Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 6150\n end_ms: 9090\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 9090\n end_ms: 10640\n- text: And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 10640\n end_ms: 14310\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 14310\n end_ms: 16990\n- text: This goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 16990\n end_ms: 19560\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 19560\n end_ms: 21430\n- text: And you, and you (uh)\n start_ms: 21430\n end_ms: 23530\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 23530\n end_ms: 26140\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n start_ms: 26140\n end_ms: 29380\n- text: Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n start_ms: 29380\n end_ms: 31440\n- text: It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n start_ms: 31440\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: You gotta call me Francis M.H\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 37250\n- text: White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n start_ms: 37250\n end_ms: 39650\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n start_ms: 39650\n end_ms: 42390\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 42390\n end_ms: 44490\n- text: Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n start_ms: 44490\n end_ms: 47560\n- text: The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n start_ms: 47560\n end_ms: 49540\n- text: Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n start_ms: 49540\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: May see me in D.C.\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 52930\n- text: At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n start_ms: 52930\n end_ms: 55460\n- text: Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n start_ms: 55460\n end_ms: 58360\n- text: Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n start_ms: 58360\n end_ms: 60960\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n start_ms: 60960\n end_ms: 64000\n- text: Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n start_ms: 64000\n end_ms: 66660\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 66660\n end_ms: 68700\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 68700\n end_ms: 72500\n- text: I make it hot like a kettle get\n start_ms: 72500\n end_ms: 74060\n- text: You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n start_ms: 74060\n end_ms: 76780\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n start_ms: 76780\n end_ms: 79870\n- text: Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n start_ms: 79870\n end_ms: 82420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 82420\n end_ms: 85030\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 85030\n end_ms: 87770\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 87770\n end_ms: 90360\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 90360\n end_ms: 93050\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 93050\n end_ms: 95670\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 95670\n end_ms: 98220\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 98220\n end_ms: 100960\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n start_ms: 100960\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 106170\n- text: Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n start_ms: 106170\n end_ms: 108850\n- text: Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n start_ms: 108850\n end_ms: 111440\n- text: In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 111440\n end_ms: 113750\n- text: Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n start_ms: 113750\n end_ms: 116910\n- text: You cursed it but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 116910\n end_ms: 118590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n start_ms: 118590\n end_ms: 122050\n- text: Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 122050\n end_ms: 124690\n- text: Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 124690\n end_ms: 127840\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 127840\n end_ms: 129980\n- text: I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n start_ms: 129980\n end_ms: 132810\n- text: Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 132810\n end_ms: 135660\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n start_ms: 135660\n end_ms: 138550\n- text: Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n start_ms: 138550\n end_ms: 140670\n- text: Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n start_ms: 140670\n end_ms: 143320\n- text: I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n start_ms: 143320\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 149130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n start_ms: 149130\n end_ms: 151730\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 151730\n end_ms: 154350\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 154350\n end_ms: 157200\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 157200\n end_ms: 159800\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 159800\n end_ms: 162420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 162420\n end_ms: 165130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 165130\n end_ms: 167840\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 167840\n end_ms: 170090\n- text: Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n start_ms: 170090\n end_ms: 172990\n- text: Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n start_ms: 172990\n end_ms: 175580\n- text: Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n start_ms: 175580\n end_ms: 178450\n- text: Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n start_ms: 178450\n end_ms: 181010\n- text: Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n start_ms: 181010\n end_ms: 183740\n- text: Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n start_ms: 183740\n end_ms: 186150\n- text: You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n start_ms: 186150\n end_ms: 189060\n- text: Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n start_ms: 189060\n end_ms: 191690\n- text: Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n start_ms: 191690\n end_ms: 194580\n- text: It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 194580\n end_ms: 197100\n- text: Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 197100\n end_ms: 199800\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 199800\n end_ms: 202160\n- text: They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n start_ms: 202160\n end_ms: 204850\n- text: Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n start_ms: 204850\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: And you still recoupin', stupid!\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 209890\n- text: Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n start_ms: 209890\n end_ms: 211140\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 211140\nplain: |-\n (Biggie)\n Uh, uh-huh\n Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you (uh)\n\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You gotta call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\n Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n May see me in D.C.\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\n Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\n On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\n Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recoupin', stupid!\n Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n"},{"id":32394646,"name":"Kick In The Door","trackName":"Kick In The Door","artistName":"Notorious B.I.G., The","albumName":"Notorious","duration":215.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie)\nUh, uh-huh\nUh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you (uh)\n\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\nGet in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou gotta call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\nKeep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\nWho's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\nAin't no tellin' where I may be\nMay see me in D.C.\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\nFuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\nJesus! Get off the Notorious'\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\nBiggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\nOn ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\nShould I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\nIn fear, you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\nDon't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of NY\nFuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\nNow ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recoupin', stupid!\nStupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick In The Door\n artist: Notorious B.I.G., The\n album: Notorious\n duration_ms: 215000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n (Biggie)\n Uh, uh-huh\n Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you (uh)\n\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You gotta call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\n Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n May see me in D.C.\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\n Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\n On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\n Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recoupin', stupid!\n Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n"},{"id":39234613,"name":"Kick in the Door","trackName":"Kick in the Door","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Notorious","duration":287.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Biggie\nUh; uh-uh\nUh\n\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\nGet in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\nIts that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\nYou got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\nIn tank-light totes, tote iron\n\nWas told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\nKeep extra clips for extra shit\nWho's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\nThe mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\nAin't no tellin where I may be\nMay see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\nWith my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\nYou should know my steelo\n\nWent from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen before\nSo, jesus, get off the notorious\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\n\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it\nWith the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot, like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\nBiggie, how are you gonna do it?\nDo it\n\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\nOn ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\nShould I start your breath should I let you die\n\nIn fear you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\nYou cursed it, but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\nYou herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\nDon't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\nTryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\nGot pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\nTake trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\nI know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\nWhen I see ya I'ma\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the king of NY\n\nFuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\nNow ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\nConscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\nSold more powder than johnson and johnson\nTote steel like bronson, vigilante\nYou wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\nAin't no other king in this rap thing\nThey siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\nOne shot, they disappearin\nIts ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\nTook home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\nMake the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\nAnd you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)","syncedLyrics":"[01:12.28]Biggie\n[01:15.80]Uh; uh-uh\n[01:17.57]Uh\n[01:18.20]This goes out to you\n[01:21.04]This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:26.51]This goes out to you\n[01:29.25]\n[01:31.91]This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:36.08]Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[01:38.30]As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n[01:41.45]Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n[01:43.65]Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n[01:46.75]You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n[01:49.75]In tank-light totes, tote iron\n[01:51.88]Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n[01:54.62]Keep extra clips for extra shit\n[01:56.52]Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n[01:59.43]The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n[02:01.78]Ain't no tellin where I may be\n[02:03.33]May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n[02:06.30]With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n[02:08.62]You should know my steelo\n[02:10.33]Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n[02:12.98]To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n[02:15.87]So, jesus, get off the notorious\n[02:18.85]Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[02:21.19]If the beef between us, we can settle it\n[02:23.33]With the chrome and metal shit\n[02:24.77]I make it hot, like a kettle get\n[02:26.56]You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n[02:28.85]You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n[02:32.53]Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n[02:34.16]Do it\n[02:34.54]Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:37.30]All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:40.06]Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:42.67]All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:45.41]Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:48.58]All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:51.15]Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:56.31]On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n[02:58.93]Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n[03:01.61]Should I start your breath should I let you die\n[03:03.97]In fear you start to cry, ask why\n[03:06.49]Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n[03:09.59]You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n[03:11.59]I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n[03:13.52]You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[03:17.33]Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n[03:19.88]Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[03:21.95]I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n[03:25.04]Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[03:27.80]Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n[03:30.49]Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n[03:32.12]Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n[03:36.18]I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n[03:38.25]When I see ya I'ma\n[03:41.34]\n[04:00.32]This goes out for those that choose to use\n[04:02.61]Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n[04:05.02]Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n[04:07.69]Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n[04:10.57]Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n[04:13.45]Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n[04:15.94]Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n[04:18.61]You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n[04:21.15]Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n[04:23.30]They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n[04:25.28]One shot, they disappearin\n[04:27.26]Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n[04:29.29]Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n[04:31.74]Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[04:34.59]They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n[04:37.02]Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n[04:39.95]And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n[04:43.01]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick in the Door\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: Notorious\n duration_ms: 286512\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Biggie\n start_ms: 72280\n end_ms: 75800\n- text: Uh; uh-uh\n start_ms: 75800\n end_ms: 77570\n- text: Uh\n start_ms: 77570\n end_ms: 78200\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 78200\n end_ms: 81040\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 81040\n end_ms: 86510\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 86510\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 91910\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 91910\n end_ms: 96080\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 96080\n end_ms: 98300\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n start_ms: 98300\n end_ms: 101450\n- text: Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n start_ms: 101450\n end_ms: 103650\n- text: Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n start_ms: 103650\n end_ms: 106750\n- text: You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n start_ms: 106750\n end_ms: 109750\n- text: In tank-light totes, tote iron\n start_ms: 109750\n end_ms: 111880\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n start_ms: 111880\n end_ms: 114620\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit\n start_ms: 114620\n end_ms: 116520\n- text: Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n start_ms: 116520\n end_ms: 119430\n- text: The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n start_ms: 119430\n end_ms: 121780\n- text: Ain't no tellin where I may be\n start_ms: 121780\n end_ms: 123330\n- text: May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n start_ms: 123330\n end_ms: 126300\n- text: With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n start_ms: 126300\n end_ms: 128620\n- text: You should know my steelo\n start_ms: 128620\n end_ms: 130330\n- text: Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n start_ms: 130330\n end_ms: 132980\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n start_ms: 132980\n end_ms: 135870\n- text: So, jesus, get off the notorious\n start_ms: 135870\n end_ms: 138850\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 138850\n end_ms: 141190\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it\n start_ms: 141190\n end_ms: 143330\n- text: With the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 143330\n end_ms: 144770\n- text: I make it hot, like a kettle get\n start_ms: 144770\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 148850\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n start_ms: 148850\n end_ms: 152530\n- text: Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n start_ms: 152530\n end_ms: 154160\n- text: Do it\n start_ms: 154160\n end_ms: 154540\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 154540\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 160060\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 160060\n end_ms: 162670\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 162670\n end_ms: 165410\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 165410\n end_ms: 168580\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 168580\n end_ms: 171150\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 171150\n end_ms: 176310\n- text: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 176310\n end_ms: 178930\n- text: Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n start_ms: 178930\n end_ms: 181610\n- text: Should I start your breath should I let you die\n start_ms: 181610\n end_ms: 183970\n- text: In fear you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 183970\n end_ms: 186490\n- text: Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n start_ms: 186490\n end_ms: 189590\n- text: You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 189590\n end_ms: 191590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n start_ms: 191590\n end_ms: 193520\n- text: You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 193520\n end_ms: 197330\n- text: Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n start_ms: 197330\n end_ms: 199880\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 199880\n end_ms: 201950\n- text: I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n start_ms: 201950\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 207800\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n start_ms: 207800\n end_ms: 210490\n- text: Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n start_ms: 210490\n end_ms: 212120\n- text: Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n start_ms: 212120\n end_ms: 216180\n- text: I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n start_ms: 216180\n end_ms: 218250\n- text: When I see ya I'ma\n start_ms: 218250\n end_ms: 221340\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 221340\n end_ms: 240320\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 240320\n end_ms: 242610\n- text: Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n start_ms: 242610\n end_ms: 245020\n- text: Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n start_ms: 245020\n end_ms: 247690\n- text: Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n start_ms: 247690\n end_ms: 250570\n- text: Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n start_ms: 250570\n end_ms: 253450\n- text: Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n start_ms: 253450\n end_ms: 255940\n- text: Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n start_ms: 255940\n end_ms: 258610\n- text: You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n start_ms: 258610\n end_ms: 261150\n- text: Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n start_ms: 261150\n end_ms: 263300\n- text: They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n start_ms: 263300\n end_ms: 265280\n- text: One shot, they disappearin\n start_ms: 265280\n end_ms: 267260\n- text: Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 267260\n end_ms: 269290\n- text: Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 269290\n end_ms: 271740\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 271740\n end_ms: 274590\n- text: They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n start_ms: 274590\n end_ms: 277020\n- text: Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n start_ms: 277020\n end_ms: 279950\n- text: And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n start_ms: 279950\n end_ms: 283010\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 283010\nplain: |-\n Biggie\n Uh; uh-uh\n Uh\n\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\n Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n In tank-light totes, tote iron\n\n Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n Keep extra clips for extra shit\n Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\n Ain't no tellin where I may be\n May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n You should know my steelo\n\n Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n So, jesus, get off the notorious\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n\n If the beef between us, we can settle it\n With the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot, like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n Do it\n\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\n On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\n Should I start your breath should I let you die\n\n In fear you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\n You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\n Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\n I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n When I see ya I'ma\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n\n Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n One shot, they disappearin\n Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\n Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\n And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n"},{"id":9434699,"name":"Kick In The Door","trackName":"Kick In The Door","artistName":"Notorious B.I.G","albumName":"Notorious","duration":214.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie)\nUh, uh-huh\nUh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you (uh)\n\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\nGet in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou gotta call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\nKeep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\nWho's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\nAin't no tellin' where I may be\nMay see me in D.C.\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\nFuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\nJesus! Get off the Notorious'\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\nBiggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\nOn ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\nShould I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\nIn fear, you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\nDon't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of NY\nFuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\nNow ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recoupin', stupid!\nStupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.58] (Biggie)\n[00:02.96] Uh, uh-huh\n[00:06.15] Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:09.09] This goes out to you\n[00:10.64] And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[00:14.31] This goes out to you\n[00:16.99] This goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:19.56] This goes out to you\n[00:21.43] And you, and you (uh)\n[00:23.53] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[00:26.14] As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n[00:29.38] Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n[00:31.44] It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n[00:34.69] You gotta call me Francis M.H\n[00:37.25] White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n[00:39.65] Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n[00:42.39] Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n[00:44.49] Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n[00:47.56] The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n[00:49.54] Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n[00:51.41] May see me in D.C.\n[00:52.93] At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n[00:55.46] Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n[00:58.36] Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n[01:00.96] To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n[01:04.00] Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n[01:06.66] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[01:08.70] If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n[01:12.50] I make it hot like a kettle get\n[01:14.06] You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n[01:16.78] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n[01:19.87] Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n[01:22.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:25.03] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:27.77] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:30.36] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:33.05] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:35.67] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[01:38.22] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[01:40.96] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n[01:43.59] On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n[01:46.17] Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n[01:48.85] Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n[01:51.44] In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n[01:53.75] Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n[01:56.91] You cursed it but rehearsed it\n[01:58.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n[02:02.05] Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[02:04.69] Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n[02:07.84] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[02:09.98] I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n[02:12.81] Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[02:15.66] Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n[02:18.55] Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n[02:20.67] Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n[02:23.32] I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n[02:26.56] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[02:29.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n[02:31.73] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:34.35] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:37.20] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:39.80] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[02:42.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:45.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:47.84] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[02:50.09] Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n[02:52.99] Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n[02:55.58] Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n[02:58.45] Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n[03:01.01] Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n[03:03.74] Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n[03:06.15] You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n[03:09.06] Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n[03:11.69] Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n[03:14.58] It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n[03:17.10] Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n[03:19.80] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[03:22.16] They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n[03:24.85] Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n[03:27.79] And you still recoupin', stupid!\n[03:29.89] Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n[03:31.14] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick In The Door\n artist: Notorious B.I.G\n album: Notorious\n duration_ms: 214000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Biggie)\n start_ms: 1580\n end_ms: 2960\n- text: Uh, uh-huh\n start_ms: 2960\n end_ms: 6150\n- text: Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 6150\n end_ms: 9090\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 9090\n end_ms: 10640\n- text: And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 10640\n end_ms: 14310\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 14310\n end_ms: 16990\n- text: This goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 16990\n end_ms: 19560\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 19560\n end_ms: 21430\n- text: And you, and you (uh)\n start_ms: 21430\n end_ms: 23530\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 23530\n end_ms: 26140\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n start_ms: 26140\n end_ms: 29380\n- text: Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n start_ms: 29380\n end_ms: 31440\n- text: It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n start_ms: 31440\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: You gotta call me Francis M.H\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 37250\n- text: White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n start_ms: 37250\n end_ms: 39650\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n start_ms: 39650\n end_ms: 42390\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 42390\n end_ms: 44490\n- text: Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n start_ms: 44490\n end_ms: 47560\n- text: The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n start_ms: 47560\n end_ms: 49540\n- text: Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n start_ms: 49540\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: May see me in D.C.\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 52930\n- text: At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n start_ms: 52930\n end_ms: 55460\n- text: Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n start_ms: 55460\n end_ms: 58360\n- text: Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n start_ms: 58360\n end_ms: 60960\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n start_ms: 60960\n end_ms: 64000\n- text: Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n start_ms: 64000\n end_ms: 66660\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 66660\n end_ms: 68700\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 68700\n end_ms: 72500\n- text: I make it hot like a kettle get\n start_ms: 72500\n end_ms: 74060\n- text: You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n start_ms: 74060\n end_ms: 76780\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n start_ms: 76780\n end_ms: 79870\n- text: Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n start_ms: 79870\n end_ms: 82420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 82420\n end_ms: 85030\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 85030\n end_ms: 87770\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 87770\n end_ms: 90360\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 90360\n end_ms: 93050\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 93050\n end_ms: 95670\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 95670\n end_ms: 98220\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 98220\n end_ms: 100960\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n start_ms: 100960\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 106170\n- text: Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n start_ms: 106170\n end_ms: 108850\n- text: Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n start_ms: 108850\n end_ms: 111440\n- text: In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 111440\n end_ms: 113750\n- text: Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n start_ms: 113750\n end_ms: 116910\n- text: You cursed it but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 116910\n end_ms: 118590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n start_ms: 118590\n end_ms: 122050\n- text: Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 122050\n end_ms: 124690\n- text: Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 124690\n end_ms: 127840\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 127840\n end_ms: 129980\n- text: I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n start_ms: 129980\n end_ms: 132810\n- text: Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 132810\n end_ms: 135660\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n start_ms: 135660\n end_ms: 138550\n- text: Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n start_ms: 138550\n end_ms: 140670\n- text: Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n start_ms: 140670\n end_ms: 143320\n- text: I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n start_ms: 143320\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 149130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n start_ms: 149130\n end_ms: 151730\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 151730\n end_ms: 154350\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 154350\n end_ms: 157200\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 157200\n end_ms: 159800\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 159800\n end_ms: 162420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 162420\n end_ms: 165130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 165130\n end_ms: 167840\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 167840\n end_ms: 170090\n- text: Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n start_ms: 170090\n end_ms: 172990\n- text: Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n start_ms: 172990\n end_ms: 175580\n- text: Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n start_ms: 175580\n end_ms: 178450\n- text: Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n start_ms: 178450\n end_ms: 181010\n- text: Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n start_ms: 181010\n end_ms: 183740\n- text: Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n start_ms: 183740\n end_ms: 186150\n- text: You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n start_ms: 186150\n end_ms: 189060\n- text: Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n start_ms: 189060\n end_ms: 191690\n- text: Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n start_ms: 191690\n end_ms: 194580\n- text: It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 194580\n end_ms: 197100\n- text: Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 197100\n end_ms: 199800\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 199800\n end_ms: 202160\n- text: They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n start_ms: 202160\n end_ms: 204850\n- text: Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n start_ms: 204850\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: And you still recoupin', stupid!\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 209890\n- text: Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n start_ms: 209890\n end_ms: 211140\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 211140\nplain: |-\n (Biggie)\n Uh, uh-huh\n Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you (uh)\n\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You gotta call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\n Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n May see me in D.C.\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\n Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\n On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\n Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recoupin', stupid!\n Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n"},{"id":29156849,"name":"Kick In The Door","trackName":"Kick In The Door","artistName":"Notorious B.I.G","albumName":"Notorious","duration":192.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie)\nUh, uh-huh\nUh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you (uh)\n\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\nGet in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou gotta call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\nKeep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\nWho's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\nAin't no tellin' where I may be\nMay see me in D.C.\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\nFuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\nJesus! Get off the Notorious'\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\nBiggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\nOn ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\nShould I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\nIn fear, you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\nDon't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of NY\nFuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\nNow ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recoupin', stupid!\nStupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.58] (Biggie)\n[00:02.96] Uh, uh-huh\n[00:06.15] Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:09.09] This goes out to you\n[00:10.64] And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[00:14.31] This goes out to you\n[00:16.99] This goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:19.56] This goes out to you\n[00:21.43] And you, and you (uh)\n[00:23.53] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[00:26.14] As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n[00:29.38] Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n[00:31.44] It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n[00:34.69] You gotta call me Francis M.H\n[00:37.25] White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n[00:39.65] Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n[00:42.39] Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n[00:44.49] Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n[00:47.56] The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n[00:49.54] Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n[00:51.41] May see me in D.C.\n[00:52.93] At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n[00:55.46] Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n[00:58.36] Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n[01:00.96] To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n[01:04.00] Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n[01:06.66] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[01:08.70] If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n[01:12.50] I make it hot like a kettle get\n[01:14.06] You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n[01:16.78] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n[01:19.87] Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n[01:22.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:25.03] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:27.77] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:30.36] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:33.05] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:35.67] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[01:38.22] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[01:40.96] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n[01:43.59] On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n[01:46.17] Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n[01:48.85] Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n[01:51.44] In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n[01:53.75] Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n[01:56.91] You cursed it but rehearsed it\n[01:58.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n[02:02.05] Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[02:04.69] Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n[02:07.84] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[02:09.98] I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n[02:12.81] Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[02:15.66] Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n[02:18.55] Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n[02:20.67] Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n[02:23.32] I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n[02:26.56] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[02:29.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n[02:31.73] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:34.35] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:37.20] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:39.80] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[02:42.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:45.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:47.84] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[02:50.09] Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n[02:52.99] Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n[02:55.58] Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n[02:58.45] Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n[03:01.01] Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n[03:03.74] Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n[03:06.15] You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n[03:09.06] Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n[03:11.69] Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n[03:14.58] It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n[03:17.10] Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n[03:19.80] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[03:22.16] They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n[03:24.85] Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n[03:27.79] And you still recoupin', stupid!\n[03:29.89] Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n[03:31.14] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick In The Door\n artist: Notorious B.I.G\n album: Notorious\n duration_ms: 192000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Biggie)\n start_ms: 1580\n end_ms: 2960\n- text: Uh, uh-huh\n start_ms: 2960\n end_ms: 6150\n- text: Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 6150\n end_ms: 9090\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 9090\n end_ms: 10640\n- text: And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 10640\n end_ms: 14310\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 14310\n end_ms: 16990\n- text: This goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 16990\n end_ms: 19560\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 19560\n end_ms: 21430\n- text: And you, and you (uh)\n start_ms: 21430\n end_ms: 23530\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 23530\n end_ms: 26140\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n start_ms: 26140\n end_ms: 29380\n- text: Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n start_ms: 29380\n end_ms: 31440\n- text: It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n start_ms: 31440\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: You gotta call me Francis M.H\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 37250\n- text: White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n start_ms: 37250\n end_ms: 39650\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n start_ms: 39650\n end_ms: 42390\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 42390\n end_ms: 44490\n- text: Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n start_ms: 44490\n end_ms: 47560\n- text: The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n start_ms: 47560\n end_ms: 49540\n- text: Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n start_ms: 49540\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: May see me in D.C.\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 52930\n- text: At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n start_ms: 52930\n end_ms: 55460\n- text: Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n start_ms: 55460\n end_ms: 58360\n- text: Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n start_ms: 58360\n end_ms: 60960\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n start_ms: 60960\n end_ms: 64000\n- text: Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n start_ms: 64000\n end_ms: 66660\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 66660\n end_ms: 68700\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 68700\n end_ms: 72500\n- text: I make it hot like a kettle get\n start_ms: 72500\n end_ms: 74060\n- text: You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n start_ms: 74060\n end_ms: 76780\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n start_ms: 76780\n end_ms: 79870\n- text: Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n start_ms: 79870\n end_ms: 82420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 82420\n end_ms: 85030\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 85030\n end_ms: 87770\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 87770\n end_ms: 90360\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 90360\n end_ms: 93050\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 93050\n end_ms: 95670\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 95670\n end_ms: 98220\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 98220\n end_ms: 100960\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n start_ms: 100960\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 106170\n- text: Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n start_ms: 106170\n end_ms: 108850\n- text: Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n start_ms: 108850\n end_ms: 111440\n- text: In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 111440\n end_ms: 113750\n- text: Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n start_ms: 113750\n end_ms: 116910\n- text: You cursed it but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 116910\n end_ms: 118590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n start_ms: 118590\n end_ms: 122050\n- text: Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 122050\n end_ms: 124690\n- text: Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 124690\n end_ms: 127840\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 127840\n end_ms: 129980\n- text: I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n start_ms: 129980\n end_ms: 132810\n- text: Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 132810\n end_ms: 135660\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n start_ms: 135660\n end_ms: 138550\n- text: Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n start_ms: 138550\n end_ms: 140670\n- text: Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n start_ms: 140670\n end_ms: 143320\n- text: I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n start_ms: 143320\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 149130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n start_ms: 149130\n end_ms: 151730\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 151730\n end_ms: 154350\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 154350\n end_ms: 157200\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 157200\n end_ms: 159800\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 159800\n end_ms: 162420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 162420\n end_ms: 165130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 165130\n end_ms: 167840\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 167840\n end_ms: 170090\n- text: Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n start_ms: 170090\n end_ms: 172990\n- text: Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n start_ms: 172990\n end_ms: 175580\n- text: Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n start_ms: 175580\n end_ms: 178450\n- text: Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n start_ms: 178450\n end_ms: 181010\n- text: Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n start_ms: 181010\n end_ms: 183740\n- text: Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n start_ms: 183740\n end_ms: 186150\n- text: You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n start_ms: 186150\n end_ms: 189060\n- text: Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n start_ms: 189060\n end_ms: 191690\n- text: Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n start_ms: 191690\n end_ms: 194580\n- text: It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 194580\n end_ms: 197100\n- text: Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 197100\n end_ms: 199800\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 199800\n end_ms: 202160\n- text: They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n start_ms: 202160\n end_ms: 204850\n- text: Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n start_ms: 204850\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: And you still recoupin', stupid!\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 209890\n- text: Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n start_ms: 209890\n end_ms: 211140\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 211140\nplain: |-\n (Biggie)\n Uh, uh-huh\n Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you (uh)\n\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You gotta call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\n Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n May see me in D.C.\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\n Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\n On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\n Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recoupin', stupid!\n Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n"},{"id":5286087,"name":"Kick In The Door","trackName":"Kick In The Door","artistName":"Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Notorious (OST)","duration":214.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie)\nUh, uh-huh\nUh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you (uh)\n\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\nGet in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou gotta call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\nKeep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\nWho's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\nAin't no tellin' where I may be\nMay see me in D.C.\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\nFuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\nJesus! Get off the Notorious'\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\nBiggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\nOn ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\nShould I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\nIn fear, you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\nDon't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of NY\nFuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\nNow ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recoupin', stupid!\nStupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.58] (Biggie)\n[00:02.96] Uh, uh-huh\n[00:06.15] Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:09.09] This goes out to you\n[00:10.64] And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[00:14.31] This goes out to you\n[00:16.99] This goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:19.56] This goes out to you\n[00:21.43] And you, and you (uh)\n[00:23.53] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[00:26.14] As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n[00:29.38] Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n[00:31.44] It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n[00:34.69] You gotta call me Francis M.H\n[00:37.25] White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n[00:39.65] Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n[00:42.39] Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n[00:44.49] Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n[00:47.56] The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n[00:49.54] Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n[00:51.41] May see me in D.C.\n[00:52.93] At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n[00:55.46] Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n[00:58.36] Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n[01:00.96] To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n[01:04.00] Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n[01:06.66] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[01:08.70] If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n[01:12.50] I make it hot like a kettle get\n[01:14.06] You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n[01:16.78] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n[01:19.87] Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n[01:22.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:25.03] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:27.77] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:30.36] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:33.05] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:35.67] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[01:38.22] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[01:40.96] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n[01:43.59] On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n[01:46.17] Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n[01:48.85] Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n[01:51.44] In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n[01:53.75] Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n[01:56.91] You cursed it but rehearsed it\n[01:58.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n[02:02.05] Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[02:04.69] Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n[02:07.84] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[02:09.98] I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n[02:12.81] Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[02:15.66] Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n[02:18.55] Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n[02:20.67] Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n[02:23.32] I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n[02:26.56] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[02:29.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n[02:31.73] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:34.35] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:37.20] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:39.80] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[02:42.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:45.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:47.84] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[02:50.09] Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n[02:52.99] Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n[02:55.58] Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n[02:58.45] Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n[03:01.01] Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n[03:03.74] Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n[03:06.15] You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n[03:09.06] Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n[03:11.69] Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n[03:14.58] It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n[03:17.10] Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n[03:19.80] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[03:22.16] They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n[03:24.85] Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n[03:27.79] And you still recoupin', stupid!\n[03:29.89] Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n[03:31.14] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick In The Door\n artist: Notorious B.I.G.\n album: Notorious (OST)\n duration_ms: 214000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Biggie)\n start_ms: 1580\n end_ms: 2960\n- text: Uh, uh-huh\n start_ms: 2960\n end_ms: 6150\n- text: Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 6150\n end_ms: 9090\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 9090\n end_ms: 10640\n- text: And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 10640\n end_ms: 14310\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 14310\n end_ms: 16990\n- text: This goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 16990\n end_ms: 19560\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 19560\n end_ms: 21430\n- text: And you, and you (uh)\n start_ms: 21430\n end_ms: 23530\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 23530\n end_ms: 26140\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n start_ms: 26140\n end_ms: 29380\n- text: Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n start_ms: 29380\n end_ms: 31440\n- text: It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n start_ms: 31440\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: You gotta call me Francis M.H\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 37250\n- text: White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n start_ms: 37250\n end_ms: 39650\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n start_ms: 39650\n end_ms: 42390\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 42390\n end_ms: 44490\n- text: Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n start_ms: 44490\n end_ms: 47560\n- text: The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n start_ms: 47560\n end_ms: 49540\n- text: Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n start_ms: 49540\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: May see me in D.C.\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 52930\n- text: At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n start_ms: 52930\n end_ms: 55460\n- text: Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n start_ms: 55460\n end_ms: 58360\n- text: Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n start_ms: 58360\n end_ms: 60960\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n start_ms: 60960\n end_ms: 64000\n- text: Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n start_ms: 64000\n end_ms: 66660\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 66660\n end_ms: 68700\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 68700\n end_ms: 72500\n- text: I make it hot like a kettle get\n start_ms: 72500\n end_ms: 74060\n- text: You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n start_ms: 74060\n end_ms: 76780\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n start_ms: 76780\n end_ms: 79870\n- text: Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n start_ms: 79870\n end_ms: 82420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 82420\n end_ms: 85030\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 85030\n end_ms: 87770\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 87770\n end_ms: 90360\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 90360\n end_ms: 93050\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 93050\n end_ms: 95670\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 95670\n end_ms: 98220\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 98220\n end_ms: 100960\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n start_ms: 100960\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 106170\n- text: Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n start_ms: 106170\n end_ms: 108850\n- text: Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n start_ms: 108850\n end_ms: 111440\n- text: In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 111440\n end_ms: 113750\n- text: Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n start_ms: 113750\n end_ms: 116910\n- text: You cursed it but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 116910\n end_ms: 118590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n start_ms: 118590\n end_ms: 122050\n- text: Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 122050\n end_ms: 124690\n- text: Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 124690\n end_ms: 127840\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 127840\n end_ms: 129980\n- text: I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n start_ms: 129980\n end_ms: 132810\n- text: Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 132810\n end_ms: 135660\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n start_ms: 135660\n end_ms: 138550\n- text: Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n start_ms: 138550\n end_ms: 140670\n- text: Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n start_ms: 140670\n end_ms: 143320\n- text: I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n start_ms: 143320\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 149130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n start_ms: 149130\n end_ms: 151730\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 151730\n end_ms: 154350\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 154350\n end_ms: 157200\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 157200\n end_ms: 159800\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 159800\n end_ms: 162420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 162420\n end_ms: 165130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 165130\n end_ms: 167840\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 167840\n end_ms: 170090\n- text: Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n start_ms: 170090\n end_ms: 172990\n- text: Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n start_ms: 172990\n end_ms: 175580\n- text: Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n start_ms: 175580\n end_ms: 178450\n- text: Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n start_ms: 178450\n end_ms: 181010\n- text: Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n start_ms: 181010\n end_ms: 183740\n- text: Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n start_ms: 183740\n end_ms: 186150\n- text: You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n start_ms: 186150\n end_ms: 189060\n- text: Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n start_ms: 189060\n end_ms: 191690\n- text: Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n start_ms: 191690\n end_ms: 194580\n- text: It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 194580\n end_ms: 197100\n- text: Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 197100\n end_ms: 199800\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 199800\n end_ms: 202160\n- text: They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n start_ms: 202160\n end_ms: 204850\n- text: Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n start_ms: 204850\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: And you still recoupin', stupid!\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 209890\n- text: Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n start_ms: 209890\n end_ms: 211140\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 211140\nplain: |-\n (Biggie)\n Uh, uh-huh\n Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you (uh)\n\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You gotta call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\n Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n May see me in D.C.\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\n Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\n On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\n Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recoupin', stupid!\n Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n"},{"id":29858481,"name":"Kick in the Door","trackName":"Kick in the Door","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Va-Notorious Ost","duration":214.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Biggie\nUh; uh-uh\nUh\n\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\nGet in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\nIts that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\nYou got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\nIn tank-light totes, tote iron\n\nWas told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\nKeep extra clips for extra shit\nWho's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\nThe mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\nAin't no tellin where I may be\nMay see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\nWith my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\nYou should know my steelo\n\nWent from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen before\nSo, jesus, get off the notorious\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\n\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it\nWith the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot, like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\nBiggie, how are you gonna do it?\nDo it\n\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\nOn ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\nShould I start your breath should I let you die\n\nIn fear you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\nYou cursed it, but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\nYou herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\nDon't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\nTryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\nGot pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\nTake trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\nI know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\nWhen I see ya I'ma\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the king of NY\n\nFuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\nNow ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\nConscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\nSold more powder than johnson and johnson\nTote steel like bronson, vigilante\nYou wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\nAin't no other king in this rap thing\nThey siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\nOne shot, they disappearin\nIts ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\nTook home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\nMake the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\nAnd you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)","syncedLyrics":"[01:12.28] Biggie\n[01:15.80] Uh; uh-uh\n[01:17.57] Uh\n[01:18.20] This goes out to you\n[01:21.04] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:26.51] This goes out to you\n[01:29.25] \n[01:31.91] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:36.08] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[01:38.30] As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n[01:41.45] Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n[01:43.65] Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n[01:46.75] You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n[01:49.75] In tank-light totes, tote iron\n[01:51.88] Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n[01:54.62] Keep extra clips for extra shit\n[01:56.52] Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n[01:59.43] The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n[02:01.78] Ain't no tellin where I may be\n[02:03.33] May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n[02:06.30] With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n[02:08.62] You should know my steelo\n[02:10.33] Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n[02:12.98] To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n[02:15.87] So, jesus, get off the notorious\n[02:18.85] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[02:21.19] If the beef between us, we can settle it\n[02:23.33] With the chrome and metal shit\n[02:24.77] I make it hot, like a kettle get\n[02:26.56] You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n[02:28.85] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n[02:32.53] Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n[02:34.16] Do it\n[02:34.54] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:37.30] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:40.06] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:42.67] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:45.41] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:48.58] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:51.15] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:56.31] On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n[02:58.93] Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n[03:01.61] Should I start your breath should I let you die\n[03:03.97] In fear you start to cry, ask why\n[03:06.49] Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n[03:09.59] You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n[03:11.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n[03:13.52] You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[03:17.33] Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n[03:19.88] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[03:21.95] I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n[03:25.04] Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[03:27.80] Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n[03:30.49] Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n[03:32.12] Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n[03:36.18] I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n[03:38.25] When I see ya I'ma\n[03:41.34] \n[04:00.32] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[04:02.61] Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n[04:05.02] Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n[04:07.69] Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n[04:10.57] Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n[04:13.45] Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n[04:15.94] Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n[04:18.61] You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n[04:21.15] Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n[04:23.30] They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n[04:25.28] One shot, they disappearin\n[04:27.26] Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n[04:29.29] Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n[04:31.74] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[04:34.59] They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n[04:37.02] Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n[04:39.95] And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n[04:43.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick in the Door\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: Va-Notorious Ost\n duration_ms: 214000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Biggie\n start_ms: 72280\n end_ms: 75800\n- text: Uh; uh-uh\n start_ms: 75800\n end_ms: 77570\n- text: Uh\n start_ms: 77570\n end_ms: 78200\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 78200\n end_ms: 81040\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 81040\n end_ms: 86510\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 86510\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 91910\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 91910\n end_ms: 96080\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 96080\n end_ms: 98300\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n start_ms: 98300\n end_ms: 101450\n- text: Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n start_ms: 101450\n end_ms: 103650\n- text: Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n start_ms: 103650\n end_ms: 106750\n- text: You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n start_ms: 106750\n end_ms: 109750\n- text: In tank-light totes, tote iron\n start_ms: 109750\n end_ms: 111880\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n start_ms: 111880\n end_ms: 114620\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit\n start_ms: 114620\n end_ms: 116520\n- text: Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n start_ms: 116520\n end_ms: 119430\n- text: The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n start_ms: 119430\n end_ms: 121780\n- text: Ain't no tellin where I may be\n start_ms: 121780\n end_ms: 123330\n- text: May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n start_ms: 123330\n end_ms: 126300\n- text: With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n start_ms: 126300\n end_ms: 128620\n- text: You should know my steelo\n start_ms: 128620\n end_ms: 130330\n- text: Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n start_ms: 130330\n end_ms: 132980\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n start_ms: 132980\n end_ms: 135870\n- text: So, jesus, get off the notorious\n start_ms: 135870\n end_ms: 138850\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 138850\n end_ms: 141190\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it\n start_ms: 141190\n end_ms: 143330\n- text: With the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 143330\n end_ms: 144770\n- text: I make it hot, like a kettle get\n start_ms: 144770\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 148850\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n start_ms: 148850\n end_ms: 152530\n- text: Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n start_ms: 152530\n end_ms: 154160\n- text: Do it\n start_ms: 154160\n end_ms: 154540\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 154540\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 160060\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 160060\n end_ms: 162670\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 162670\n end_ms: 165410\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 165410\n end_ms: 168580\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 168580\n end_ms: 171150\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 171150\n end_ms: 176310\n- text: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 176310\n end_ms: 178930\n- text: Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n start_ms: 178930\n end_ms: 181610\n- text: Should I start your breath should I let you die\n start_ms: 181610\n end_ms: 183970\n- text: In fear you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 183970\n end_ms: 186490\n- text: Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n start_ms: 186490\n end_ms: 189590\n- text: You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 189590\n end_ms: 191590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n start_ms: 191590\n end_ms: 193520\n- text: You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 193520\n end_ms: 197330\n- text: Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n start_ms: 197330\n end_ms: 199880\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 199880\n end_ms: 201950\n- text: I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n start_ms: 201950\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 207800\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n start_ms: 207800\n end_ms: 210490\n- text: Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n start_ms: 210490\n end_ms: 212120\n- text: Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n start_ms: 212120\n end_ms: 216180\n- text: I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n start_ms: 216180\n end_ms: 218250\n- text: When I see ya I'ma\n start_ms: 218250\n end_ms: 221340\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 221340\n end_ms: 240320\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 240320\n end_ms: 242610\n- text: Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n start_ms: 242610\n end_ms: 245020\n- text: Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n start_ms: 245020\n end_ms: 247690\n- text: Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n start_ms: 247690\n end_ms: 250570\n- text: Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n start_ms: 250570\n end_ms: 253450\n- text: Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n start_ms: 253450\n end_ms: 255940\n- text: Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n start_ms: 255940\n end_ms: 258610\n- text: You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n start_ms: 258610\n end_ms: 261150\n- text: Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n start_ms: 261150\n end_ms: 263300\n- text: They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n start_ms: 263300\n end_ms: 265280\n- text: One shot, they disappearin\n start_ms: 265280\n end_ms: 267260\n- text: Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 267260\n end_ms: 269290\n- text: Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 269290\n end_ms: 271740\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 271740\n end_ms: 274590\n- text: They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n start_ms: 274590\n end_ms: 277020\n- text: Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n start_ms: 277020\n end_ms: 279950\n- text: And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n start_ms: 279950\n end_ms: 283010\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 283010\nplain: |-\n Biggie\n Uh; uh-uh\n Uh\n\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\n Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n In tank-light totes, tote iron\n\n Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n Keep extra clips for extra shit\n Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\n Ain't no tellin where I may be\n May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n You should know my steelo\n\n Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n So, jesus, get off the notorious\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n\n If the beef between us, we can settle it\n With the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot, like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n Do it\n\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\n On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\n Should I start your breath should I let you die\n\n In fear you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\n You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\n Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\n I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n When I see ya I'ma\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n\n Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n One shot, they disappearin\n Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\n Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\n And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n"},{"id":34392501,"name":"Kick In the Door","trackName":"Kick In the Door","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Notorious V: The King of New York","duration":287.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Biggie\nUh; uh-uh\nUh\n\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\nGet in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\nIts that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\nYou got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\nIn tank-light totes, tote iron\n\nWas told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\nKeep extra clips for extra shit\nWho's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\nThe mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\nAin't no tellin where I may be\nMay see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\nWith my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\nYou should know my steelo\n\nWent from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen before\nSo, jesus, get off the notorious\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\n\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it\nWith the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot, like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\nBiggie, how are you gonna do it?\nDo it\n\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\nOn ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\nShould I start your breath should I let you die\n\nIn fear you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\nYou cursed it, but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\nYou herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\nDon't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\nTryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\nGot pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\nTake trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\nI know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\nWhen I see ya I'ma\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the king of NY\n\nFuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\nNow ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\nConscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\nSold more powder than johnson and johnson\nTote steel like bronson, vigilante\nYou wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\nAin't no other king in this rap thing\nThey siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\nOne shot, they disappearin\nIts ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\nTook home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\nMake the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\nAnd you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)","syncedLyrics":"[01:12.28] Biggie\n[01:15.80] Uh; uh-uh\n[01:17.57] Uh\n[01:18.20] This goes out to you\n[01:21.04] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:26.51] This goes out to you\n[01:29.25] \n[01:31.91] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:36.08] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[01:38.30] As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n[01:41.45] Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n[01:43.65] Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n[01:46.75] You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n[01:49.75] In tank-light totes, tote iron\n[01:51.88] Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n[01:54.62] Keep extra clips for extra shit\n[01:56.52] Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n[01:59.43] The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n[02:01.78] Ain't no tellin where I may be\n[02:03.33] May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n[02:06.30] With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n[02:08.62] You should know my steelo\n[02:10.33] Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n[02:12.98] To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n[02:15.87] So, jesus, get off the notorious\n[02:18.85] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[02:21.19] If the beef between us, we can settle it\n[02:23.33] With the chrome and metal shit\n[02:24.77] I make it hot, like a kettle get\n[02:26.56] You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n[02:28.85] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n[02:32.53] Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n[02:34.16] Do it\n[02:34.54] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:37.30] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:40.06] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:42.67] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:45.41] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:48.58] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:51.15] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:56.31] On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n[02:58.93] Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n[03:01.61] Should I start your breath should I let you die\n[03:03.97] In fear you start to cry, ask why\n[03:06.49] Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n[03:09.59] You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n[03:11.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n[03:13.52] You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[03:17.33] Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n[03:19.88] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[03:21.95] I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n[03:25.04] Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[03:27.80] Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n[03:30.49] Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n[03:32.12] Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n[03:36.18] I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n[03:38.25] When I see ya I'ma\n[03:41.34] \n[04:00.32] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[04:02.61] Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n[04:05.02] Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n[04:07.69] Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n[04:10.57] Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n[04:13.45] Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n[04:15.94] Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n[04:18.61] You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n[04:21.15] Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n[04:23.30] They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n[04:25.28] One shot, they disappearin\n[04:27.26] Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n[04:29.29] Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n[04:31.74] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[04:34.59] They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n[04:37.02] Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n[04:39.95] And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n[04:43.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick In the Door\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: 'Notorious V: The King of New York'\n duration_ms: 287000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Biggie\n start_ms: 72280\n end_ms: 75800\n- text: Uh; uh-uh\n start_ms: 75800\n end_ms: 77570\n- text: Uh\n start_ms: 77570\n end_ms: 78200\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 78200\n end_ms: 81040\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 81040\n end_ms: 86510\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 86510\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 91910\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 91910\n end_ms: 96080\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 96080\n end_ms: 98300\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n start_ms: 98300\n end_ms: 101450\n- text: Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n start_ms: 101450\n end_ms: 103650\n- text: Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n start_ms: 103650\n end_ms: 106750\n- text: You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n start_ms: 106750\n end_ms: 109750\n- text: In tank-light totes, tote iron\n start_ms: 109750\n end_ms: 111880\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n start_ms: 111880\n end_ms: 114620\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit\n start_ms: 114620\n end_ms: 116520\n- text: Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n start_ms: 116520\n end_ms: 119430\n- text: The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n start_ms: 119430\n end_ms: 121780\n- text: Ain't no tellin where I may be\n start_ms: 121780\n end_ms: 123330\n- text: May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n start_ms: 123330\n end_ms: 126300\n- text: With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n start_ms: 126300\n end_ms: 128620\n- text: You should know my steelo\n start_ms: 128620\n end_ms: 130330\n- text: Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n start_ms: 130330\n end_ms: 132980\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n start_ms: 132980\n end_ms: 135870\n- text: So, jesus, get off the notorious\n start_ms: 135870\n end_ms: 138850\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 138850\n end_ms: 141190\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it\n start_ms: 141190\n end_ms: 143330\n- text: With the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 143330\n end_ms: 144770\n- text: I make it hot, like a kettle get\n start_ms: 144770\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 148850\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n start_ms: 148850\n end_ms: 152530\n- text: Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n start_ms: 152530\n end_ms: 154160\n- text: Do it\n start_ms: 154160\n end_ms: 154540\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 154540\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 160060\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 160060\n end_ms: 162670\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 162670\n end_ms: 165410\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 165410\n end_ms: 168580\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 168580\n end_ms: 171150\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 171150\n end_ms: 176310\n- text: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 176310\n end_ms: 178930\n- text: Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n start_ms: 178930\n end_ms: 181610\n- text: Should I start your breath should I let you die\n start_ms: 181610\n end_ms: 183970\n- text: In fear you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 183970\n end_ms: 186490\n- text: Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n start_ms: 186490\n end_ms: 189590\n- text: You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 189590\n end_ms: 191590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n start_ms: 191590\n end_ms: 193520\n- text: You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 193520\n end_ms: 197330\n- text: Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n start_ms: 197330\n end_ms: 199880\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 199880\n end_ms: 201950\n- text: I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n start_ms: 201950\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 207800\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n start_ms: 207800\n end_ms: 210490\n- text: Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n start_ms: 210490\n end_ms: 212120\n- text: Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n start_ms: 212120\n end_ms: 216180\n- text: I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n start_ms: 216180\n end_ms: 218250\n- text: When I see ya I'ma\n start_ms: 218250\n end_ms: 221340\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 221340\n end_ms: 240320\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 240320\n end_ms: 242610\n- text: Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n start_ms: 242610\n end_ms: 245020\n- text: Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n start_ms: 245020\n end_ms: 247690\n- text: Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n start_ms: 247690\n end_ms: 250570\n- text: Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n start_ms: 250570\n end_ms: 253450\n- text: Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n start_ms: 253450\n end_ms: 255940\n- text: Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n start_ms: 255940\n end_ms: 258610\n- text: You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n start_ms: 258610\n end_ms: 261150\n- text: Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n start_ms: 261150\n end_ms: 263300\n- text: They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n start_ms: 263300\n end_ms: 265280\n- text: One shot, they disappearin\n start_ms: 265280\n end_ms: 267260\n- text: Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 267260\n end_ms: 269290\n- text: Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 269290\n end_ms: 271740\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 271740\n end_ms: 274590\n- text: They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n start_ms: 274590\n end_ms: 277020\n- text: Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n start_ms: 277020\n end_ms: 279950\n- text: And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n start_ms: 279950\n end_ms: 283010\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 283010\nplain: |-\n Biggie\n Uh; uh-uh\n Uh\n\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\n Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n In tank-light totes, tote iron\n\n Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n Keep extra clips for extra shit\n Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\n Ain't no tellin where I may be\n May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n You should know my steelo\n\n Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n So, jesus, get off the notorious\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n\n If the beef between us, we can settle it\n With the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot, like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n Do it\n\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\n On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\n Should I start your breath should I let you die\n\n In fear you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\n You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\n Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\n I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n When I see ya I'ma\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n\n Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n One shot, they disappearin\n Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\n Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\n And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n"},{"id":18742775,"name":"Kick In The Door","trackName":"Kick In The Door","artistName":"Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Notorious Instrumentals (Mixed","duration":110.341224,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie)\nUh, uh-huh\nUh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you (uh)\n\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\nGet in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou gotta call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\nKeep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\nWho's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\nAin't no tellin' where I may be\nMay see me in D.C.\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\nFuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\nJesus! Get off the Notorious'\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\nBiggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\nOn ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\nShould I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\nIn fear, you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\nDon't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of NY\nFuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\nNow ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recoupin', stupid!\nStupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.58] (Biggie)\n[00:02.96] Uh, uh-huh\n[00:06.15] Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:09.09] This goes out to you\n[00:10.64] And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[00:14.31] This goes out to you\n[00:16.99] This goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:19.56] This goes out to you\n[00:21.43] And you, and you (uh)\n[00:23.53] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[00:26.14] As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n[00:29.38] Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n[00:31.44] It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n[00:34.69] You gotta call me Francis M.H\n[00:37.25] White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n[00:39.65] Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n[00:42.39] Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n[00:44.49] Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n[00:47.56] The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n[00:49.54] Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n[00:51.41] May see me in D.C.\n[00:52.93] At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n[00:55.46] Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n[00:58.36] Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n[01:00.96] To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n[01:04.00] Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n[01:06.66] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[01:08.70] If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n[01:12.50] I make it hot like a kettle get\n[01:14.06] You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n[01:16.78] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n[01:19.87] Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n[01:22.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:25.03] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:27.77] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:30.36] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:33.05] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:35.67] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[01:38.22] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[01:40.96] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n[01:43.59] On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n[01:46.17] Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n[01:48.85] Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n[01:51.44] In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n[01:53.75] Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n[01:56.91] You cursed it but rehearsed it\n[01:58.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n[02:02.05] Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[02:04.69] Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n[02:07.84] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[02:09.98] I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n[02:12.81] Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[02:15.66] Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n[02:18.55] Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n[02:20.67] Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n[02:23.32] I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n[02:26.56] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[02:29.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n[02:31.73] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:34.35] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:37.20] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:39.80] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[02:42.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:45.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:47.84] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[02:50.09] Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n[02:52.99] Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n[02:55.58] Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n[02:58.45] Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n[03:01.01] Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n[03:03.74] Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n[03:06.15] You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n[03:09.06] Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n[03:11.69] Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n[03:14.58] It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n[03:17.10] Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n[03:19.80] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[03:22.16] They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n[03:24.85] Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n[03:27.79] And you still recoupin', stupid!\n[03:29.89] Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n[03:31.14] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick In The Door\n artist: Notorious B.I.G.\n album: Notorious Instrumentals (Mixed\n duration_ms: 110341\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Biggie)\n start_ms: 1580\n end_ms: 2960\n- text: Uh, uh-huh\n start_ms: 2960\n end_ms: 6150\n- text: Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 6150\n end_ms: 9090\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 9090\n end_ms: 10640\n- text: And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 10640\n end_ms: 14310\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 14310\n end_ms: 16990\n- text: This goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 16990\n end_ms: 19560\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 19560\n end_ms: 21430\n- text: And you, and you (uh)\n start_ms: 21430\n end_ms: 23530\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 23530\n end_ms: 26140\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n start_ms: 26140\n end_ms: 29380\n- text: Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n start_ms: 29380\n end_ms: 31440\n- text: It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n start_ms: 31440\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: You gotta call me Francis M.H\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 37250\n- text: White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n start_ms: 37250\n end_ms: 39650\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n start_ms: 39650\n end_ms: 42390\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 42390\n end_ms: 44490\n- text: Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n start_ms: 44490\n end_ms: 47560\n- text: The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n start_ms: 47560\n end_ms: 49540\n- text: Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n start_ms: 49540\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: May see me in D.C.\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 52930\n- text: At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n start_ms: 52930\n end_ms: 55460\n- text: Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n start_ms: 55460\n end_ms: 58360\n- text: Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n start_ms: 58360\n end_ms: 60960\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n start_ms: 60960\n end_ms: 64000\n- text: Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n start_ms: 64000\n end_ms: 66660\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 66660\n end_ms: 68700\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 68700\n end_ms: 72500\n- text: I make it hot like a kettle get\n start_ms: 72500\n end_ms: 74060\n- text: You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n start_ms: 74060\n end_ms: 76780\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n start_ms: 76780\n end_ms: 79870\n- text: Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n start_ms: 79870\n end_ms: 82420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 82420\n end_ms: 85030\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 85030\n end_ms: 87770\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 87770\n end_ms: 90360\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 90360\n end_ms: 93050\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 93050\n end_ms: 95670\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 95670\n end_ms: 98220\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 98220\n end_ms: 100960\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n start_ms: 100960\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 106170\n- text: Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n start_ms: 106170\n end_ms: 108850\n- text: Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n start_ms: 108850\n end_ms: 111440\n- text: In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 111440\n end_ms: 113750\n- text: Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n start_ms: 113750\n end_ms: 116910\n- text: You cursed it but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 116910\n end_ms: 118590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n start_ms: 118590\n end_ms: 122050\n- text: Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 122050\n end_ms: 124690\n- text: Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 124690\n end_ms: 127840\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 127840\n end_ms: 129980\n- text: I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n start_ms: 129980\n end_ms: 132810\n- text: Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 132810\n end_ms: 135660\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n start_ms: 135660\n end_ms: 138550\n- text: Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n start_ms: 138550\n end_ms: 140670\n- text: Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n start_ms: 140670\n end_ms: 143320\n- text: I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n start_ms: 143320\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 149130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n start_ms: 149130\n end_ms: 151730\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 151730\n end_ms: 154350\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 154350\n end_ms: 157200\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 157200\n end_ms: 159800\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 159800\n end_ms: 162420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 162420\n end_ms: 165130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 165130\n end_ms: 167840\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 167840\n end_ms: 170090\n- text: Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n start_ms: 170090\n end_ms: 172990\n- text: Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n start_ms: 172990\n end_ms: 175580\n- text: Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n start_ms: 175580\n end_ms: 178450\n- text: Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n start_ms: 178450\n end_ms: 181010\n- text: Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n start_ms: 181010\n end_ms: 183740\n- text: Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n start_ms: 183740\n end_ms: 186150\n- text: You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n start_ms: 186150\n end_ms: 189060\n- text: Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n start_ms: 189060\n end_ms: 191690\n- text: Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n start_ms: 191690\n end_ms: 194580\n- text: It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 194580\n end_ms: 197100\n- text: Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 197100\n end_ms: 199800\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 199800\n end_ms: 202160\n- text: They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n start_ms: 202160\n end_ms: 204850\n- text: Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n start_ms: 204850\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: And you still recoupin', stupid!\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 209890\n- text: Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n start_ms: 209890\n end_ms: 211140\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 211140\nplain: |-\n (Biggie)\n Uh, uh-huh\n Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you (uh)\n\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You gotta call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\n Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n May see me in D.C.\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\n Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\n On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\n Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recoupin', stupid!\n Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n"},{"id":29826131,"name":"Kick In The Door","trackName":"Kick In The Door","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Notorious (OST) [by Hillside]","duration":215.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Biggie\nUh; uh-uh\nUh\n\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\nGet in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\nIts that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\nYou got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\nIn tank-light totes, tote iron\n\nWas told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\nKeep extra clips for extra shit\nWho's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\nThe mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\nAin't no tellin where I may be\nMay see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\nWith my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\nYou should know my steelo\n\nWent from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen before\nSo, jesus, get off the notorious\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\n\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it\nWith the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot, like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\nBiggie, how are you gonna do it?\nDo it\n\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\nOn ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\nShould I start your breath should I let you die\n\nIn fear you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\nYou cursed it, but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\nYou herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\nDon't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\nTryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\nGot pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\nTake trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\nI know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\nWhen I see ya I'ma\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the king of NY\n\nFuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\nNow ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\nConscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\nSold more powder than johnson and johnson\nTote steel like bronson, vigilante\nYou wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\nAin't no other king in this rap thing\nThey siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\nOne shot, they disappearin\nIts ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\nTook home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\nMake the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\nAnd you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)","syncedLyrics":"[01:12.28] Biggie\n[01:15.80] Uh; uh-uh\n[01:17.57] Uh\n[01:18.20] This goes out to you\n[01:21.04] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:26.51] This goes out to you\n[01:29.25] \n[01:31.91] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:36.08] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[01:38.30] As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n[01:41.45] Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n[01:43.65] Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n[01:46.75] You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n[01:49.75] In tank-light totes, tote iron\n[01:51.88] Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n[01:54.62] Keep extra clips for extra shit\n[01:56.52] Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n[01:59.43] The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n[02:01.78] Ain't no tellin where I may be\n[02:03.33] May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n[02:06.30] With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n[02:08.62] You should know my steelo\n[02:10.33] Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n[02:12.98] To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n[02:15.87] So, jesus, get off the notorious\n[02:18.85] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[02:21.19] If the beef between us, we can settle it\n[02:23.33] With the chrome and metal shit\n[02:24.77] I make it hot, like a kettle get\n[02:26.56] You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n[02:28.85] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n[02:32.53] Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n[02:34.16] Do it\n[02:34.54] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:37.30] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:40.06] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:42.67] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:45.41] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:48.58] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:51.15] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:56.31] On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n[02:58.93] Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n[03:01.61] Should I start your breath should I let you die\n[03:03.97] In fear you start to cry, ask why\n[03:06.49] Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n[03:09.59] You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n[03:11.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n[03:13.52] You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[03:17.33] Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n[03:19.88] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[03:21.95] I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n[03:25.04] Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[03:27.80] Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n[03:30.49] Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n[03:32.12] Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n[03:36.18] I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n[03:38.25] When I see ya I'ma\n[03:41.34] \n[04:00.32] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[04:02.61] Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n[04:05.02] Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n[04:07.69] Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n[04:10.57] Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n[04:13.45] Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n[04:15.94] Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n[04:18.61] You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n[04:21.15] Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n[04:23.30] They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n[04:25.28] One shot, they disappearin\n[04:27.26] Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n[04:29.29] Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n[04:31.74] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[04:34.59] They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n[04:37.02] Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n[04:39.95] And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n[04:43.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick In The Door\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: Notorious (OST) [by Hillside]\n duration_ms: 215000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Biggie\n start_ms: 72280\n end_ms: 75800\n- text: Uh; uh-uh\n start_ms: 75800\n end_ms: 77570\n- text: Uh\n start_ms: 77570\n end_ms: 78200\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 78200\n end_ms: 81040\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 81040\n end_ms: 86510\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 86510\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 91910\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 91910\n end_ms: 96080\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 96080\n end_ms: 98300\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n start_ms: 98300\n end_ms: 101450\n- text: Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n start_ms: 101450\n end_ms: 103650\n- text: Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n start_ms: 103650\n end_ms: 106750\n- text: You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n start_ms: 106750\n end_ms: 109750\n- text: In tank-light totes, tote iron\n start_ms: 109750\n end_ms: 111880\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n start_ms: 111880\n end_ms: 114620\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit\n start_ms: 114620\n end_ms: 116520\n- text: Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n start_ms: 116520\n end_ms: 119430\n- text: The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n start_ms: 119430\n end_ms: 121780\n- text: Ain't no tellin where I may be\n start_ms: 121780\n end_ms: 123330\n- text: May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n start_ms: 123330\n end_ms: 126300\n- text: With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n start_ms: 126300\n end_ms: 128620\n- text: You should know my steelo\n start_ms: 128620\n end_ms: 130330\n- text: Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n start_ms: 130330\n end_ms: 132980\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n start_ms: 132980\n end_ms: 135870\n- text: So, jesus, get off the notorious\n start_ms: 135870\n end_ms: 138850\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 138850\n end_ms: 141190\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it\n start_ms: 141190\n end_ms: 143330\n- text: With the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 143330\n end_ms: 144770\n- text: I make it hot, like a kettle get\n start_ms: 144770\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 148850\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n start_ms: 148850\n end_ms: 152530\n- text: Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n start_ms: 152530\n end_ms: 154160\n- text: Do it\n start_ms: 154160\n end_ms: 154540\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 154540\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 160060\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 160060\n end_ms: 162670\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 162670\n end_ms: 165410\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 165410\n end_ms: 168580\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 168580\n end_ms: 171150\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 171150\n end_ms: 176310\n- text: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 176310\n end_ms: 178930\n- text: Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n start_ms: 178930\n end_ms: 181610\n- text: Should I start your breath should I let you die\n start_ms: 181610\n end_ms: 183970\n- text: In fear you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 183970\n end_ms: 186490\n- text: Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n start_ms: 186490\n end_ms: 189590\n- text: You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 189590\n end_ms: 191590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n start_ms: 191590\n end_ms: 193520\n- text: You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 193520\n end_ms: 197330\n- text: Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n start_ms: 197330\n end_ms: 199880\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 199880\n end_ms: 201950\n- text: I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n start_ms: 201950\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 207800\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n start_ms: 207800\n end_ms: 210490\n- text: Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n start_ms: 210490\n end_ms: 212120\n- text: Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n start_ms: 212120\n end_ms: 216180\n- text: I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n start_ms: 216180\n end_ms: 218250\n- text: When I see ya I'ma\n start_ms: 218250\n end_ms: 221340\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 221340\n end_ms: 240320\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 240320\n end_ms: 242610\n- text: Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n start_ms: 242610\n end_ms: 245020\n- text: Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n start_ms: 245020\n end_ms: 247690\n- text: Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n start_ms: 247690\n end_ms: 250570\n- text: Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n start_ms: 250570\n end_ms: 253450\n- text: Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n start_ms: 253450\n end_ms: 255940\n- text: Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n start_ms: 255940\n end_ms: 258610\n- text: You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n start_ms: 258610\n end_ms: 261150\n- text: Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n start_ms: 261150\n end_ms: 263300\n- text: They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n start_ms: 263300\n end_ms: 265280\n- text: One shot, they disappearin\n start_ms: 265280\n end_ms: 267260\n- text: Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 267260\n end_ms: 269290\n- text: Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 269290\n end_ms: 271740\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 271740\n end_ms: 274590\n- text: They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n start_ms: 274590\n end_ms: 277020\n- text: Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n start_ms: 277020\n end_ms: 279950\n- text: And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n start_ms: 279950\n end_ms: 283010\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 283010\nplain: |-\n Biggie\n Uh; uh-uh\n Uh\n\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\n Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n In tank-light totes, tote iron\n\n Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n Keep extra clips for extra shit\n Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\n Ain't no tellin where I may be\n May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n You should know my steelo\n\n Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n So, jesus, get off the notorious\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n\n If the beef between us, we can settle it\n With the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot, like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n Do it\n\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\n On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\n Should I start your breath should I let you die\n\n In fear you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\n You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\n Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\n I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n When I see ya I'ma\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n\n Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n One shot, they disappearin\n Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\n Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\n And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n"},{"id":13501887,"name":"Kick in the Door","trackName":"Kick in the Door","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"NOTORIOUS Music From and Inspired by the Original Motion Picture","duration":214.546,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie)\nUh, uh-huh\nUh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you (uh)\n\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\nGet in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou gotta call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\nKeep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\nWho's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\nAin't no tellin' where I may be\nMay see me in D.C.\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\nFuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\nJesus! Get off the Notorious'\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\nBiggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\nOn ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\nShould I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\nIn fear, you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\nDon't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of NY\nFuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\nNow ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recoupin', stupid!\nStupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.58] (Biggie)\n[00:02.96] Uh, uh-huh\n[00:06.15] Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:09.09] This goes out to you\n[00:10.64] And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[00:14.31] This goes out to you\n[00:16.99] This goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:19.56] This goes out to you\n[00:21.43] And you, and you (uh)\n[00:23.53] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[00:26.14] As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n[00:29.38] Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n[00:31.44] It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n[00:34.69] You gotta call me Francis M.H\n[00:37.25] White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n[00:39.65] Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n[00:42.39] Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n[00:44.49] Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n[00:47.56] The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n[00:49.54] Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n[00:51.41] May see me in D.C.\n[00:52.93] At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n[00:55.46] Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n[00:58.36] Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n[01:00.96] To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n[01:04.00] Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n[01:06.66] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[01:08.70] If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n[01:12.50] I make it hot like a kettle get\n[01:14.06] You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n[01:16.78] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n[01:19.87] Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n[01:22.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:25.03] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:27.77] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:30.36] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:33.05] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:35.67] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[01:38.22] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[01:40.96] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n[01:43.59] On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n[01:46.17] Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n[01:48.85] Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n[01:51.44] In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n[01:53.75] Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n[01:56.91] You cursed it but rehearsed it\n[01:58.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n[02:02.05] Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[02:04.69] Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n[02:07.84] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[02:09.98] I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n[02:12.81] Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[02:15.66] Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n[02:18.55] Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n[02:20.67] Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n[02:23.32] I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n[02:26.56] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[02:29.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n[02:31.73] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:34.35] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:37.20] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:39.80] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[02:42.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:45.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:47.84] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[02:50.09] Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n[02:52.99] Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n[02:55.58] Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n[02:58.45] Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n[03:01.01] Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n[03:03.74] Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n[03:06.15] You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n[03:09.06] Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n[03:11.69] Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n[03:14.58] It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n[03:17.10] Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n[03:19.80] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[03:22.16] They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n[03:24.85] Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n[03:27.79] And you still recoupin', stupid!\n[03:29.89] Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n[03:31.14] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick in the Door\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: NOTORIOUS Music From and Inspired by the Original Motion Picture\n duration_ms: 214546\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Biggie)\n start_ms: 1580\n end_ms: 2960\n- text: Uh, uh-huh\n start_ms: 2960\n end_ms: 6150\n- text: Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 6150\n end_ms: 9090\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 9090\n end_ms: 10640\n- text: And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 10640\n end_ms: 14310\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 14310\n end_ms: 16990\n- text: This goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 16990\n end_ms: 19560\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 19560\n end_ms: 21430\n- text: And you, and you (uh)\n start_ms: 21430\n end_ms: 23530\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 23530\n end_ms: 26140\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n start_ms: 26140\n end_ms: 29380\n- text: Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n start_ms: 29380\n end_ms: 31440\n- text: It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n start_ms: 31440\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: You gotta call me Francis M.H\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 37250\n- text: White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n start_ms: 37250\n end_ms: 39650\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n start_ms: 39650\n end_ms: 42390\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 42390\n end_ms: 44490\n- text: Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n start_ms: 44490\n end_ms: 47560\n- text: The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n start_ms: 47560\n end_ms: 49540\n- text: Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n start_ms: 49540\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: May see me in D.C.\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 52930\n- text: At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n start_ms: 52930\n end_ms: 55460\n- text: Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n start_ms: 55460\n end_ms: 58360\n- text: Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n start_ms: 58360\n end_ms: 60960\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n start_ms: 60960\n end_ms: 64000\n- text: Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n start_ms: 64000\n end_ms: 66660\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 66660\n end_ms: 68700\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 68700\n end_ms: 72500\n- text: I make it hot like a kettle get\n start_ms: 72500\n end_ms: 74060\n- text: You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n start_ms: 74060\n end_ms: 76780\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n start_ms: 76780\n end_ms: 79870\n- text: Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n start_ms: 79870\n end_ms: 82420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 82420\n end_ms: 85030\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 85030\n end_ms: 87770\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 87770\n end_ms: 90360\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 90360\n end_ms: 93050\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 93050\n end_ms: 95670\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 95670\n end_ms: 98220\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 98220\n end_ms: 100960\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n start_ms: 100960\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 106170\n- text: Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n start_ms: 106170\n end_ms: 108850\n- text: Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n start_ms: 108850\n end_ms: 111440\n- text: In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 111440\n end_ms: 113750\n- text: Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n start_ms: 113750\n end_ms: 116910\n- text: You cursed it but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 116910\n end_ms: 118590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n start_ms: 118590\n end_ms: 122050\n- text: Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 122050\n end_ms: 124690\n- text: Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 124690\n end_ms: 127840\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 127840\n end_ms: 129980\n- text: I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n start_ms: 129980\n end_ms: 132810\n- text: Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 132810\n end_ms: 135660\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n start_ms: 135660\n end_ms: 138550\n- text: Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n start_ms: 138550\n end_ms: 140670\n- text: Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n start_ms: 140670\n end_ms: 143320\n- text: I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n start_ms: 143320\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 149130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n start_ms: 149130\n end_ms: 151730\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 151730\n end_ms: 154350\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 154350\n end_ms: 157200\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 157200\n end_ms: 159800\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 159800\n end_ms: 162420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 162420\n end_ms: 165130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 165130\n end_ms: 167840\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 167840\n end_ms: 170090\n- text: Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n start_ms: 170090\n end_ms: 172990\n- text: Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n start_ms: 172990\n end_ms: 175580\n- text: Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n start_ms: 175580\n end_ms: 178450\n- text: Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n start_ms: 178450\n end_ms: 181010\n- text: Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n start_ms: 181010\n end_ms: 183740\n- text: Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n start_ms: 183740\n end_ms: 186150\n- text: You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n start_ms: 186150\n end_ms: 189060\n- text: Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n start_ms: 189060\n end_ms: 191690\n- text: Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n start_ms: 191690\n end_ms: 194580\n- text: It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 194580\n end_ms: 197100\n- text: Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 197100\n end_ms: 199800\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 199800\n end_ms: 202160\n- text: They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n start_ms: 202160\n end_ms: 204850\n- text: Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n start_ms: 204850\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: And you still recoupin', stupid!\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 209890\n- text: Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n start_ms: 209890\n end_ms: 211140\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 211140\nplain: |-\n (Biggie)\n Uh, uh-huh\n Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you (uh)\n\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You gotta call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\n Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n May see me in D.C.\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\n Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\n On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\n Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recoupin', stupid!\n Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n"},{"id":35725085,"name":"Kick In the Door","trackName":"Kick In the Door","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Notorious (Music from and Inspired By the Original Motion Picture) [Deluxe Version]","duration":215.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Biggie\nUh; uh-uh\nUh\n\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\nGet in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\nIts that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\nYou got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\nIn tank-light totes, tote iron\n\nWas told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\nKeep extra clips for extra shit\nWho's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\nThe mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\nAin't no tellin where I may be\nMay see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\nWith my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\nYou should know my steelo\n\nWent from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen before\nSo, jesus, get off the notorious\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\n\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it\nWith the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot, like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\nBiggie, how are you gonna do it?\nDo it\n\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\nOn ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\nShould I start your breath should I let you die\n\nIn fear you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\nYou cursed it, but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\nYou herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\nDon't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\nTryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\nGot pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\nTake trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\nI know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\nWhen I see ya I'ma\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the king of NY\n\nFuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\nNow ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\nConscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\nSold more powder than johnson and johnson\nTote steel like bronson, vigilante\nYou wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\nAin't no other king in this rap thing\nThey siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\nOne shot, they disappearin\nIts ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\nTook home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\nMake the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\nAnd you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)","syncedLyrics":"[01:12.28] Biggie\n[01:15.80] Uh; uh-uh\n[01:17.57] Uh\n[01:18.20] This goes out to you\n[01:21.04] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:26.51] This goes out to you\n[01:29.25] \n[01:31.91] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:36.08] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[01:38.30] As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n[01:41.45] Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n[01:43.65] Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n[01:46.75] You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n[01:49.75] In tank-light totes, tote iron\n[01:51.88] Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n[01:54.62] Keep extra clips for extra shit\n[01:56.52] Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n[01:59.43] The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n[02:01.78] Ain't no tellin where I may be\n[02:03.33] May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n[02:06.30] With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n[02:08.62] You should know my steelo\n[02:10.33] Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n[02:12.98] To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n[02:15.87] So, jesus, get off the notorious\n[02:18.85] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[02:21.19] If the beef between us, we can settle it\n[02:23.33] With the chrome and metal shit\n[02:24.77] I make it hot, like a kettle get\n[02:26.56] You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n[02:28.85] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n[02:32.53] Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n[02:34.16] Do it\n[02:34.54] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:37.30] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:40.06] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:42.67] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:45.41] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:48.58] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:51.15] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:56.31] On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n[02:58.93] Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n[03:01.61] Should I start your breath should I let you die\n[03:03.97] In fear you start to cry, ask why\n[03:06.49] Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n[03:09.59] You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n[03:11.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n[03:13.52] You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[03:17.33] Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n[03:19.88] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[03:21.95] I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n[03:25.04] Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[03:27.80] Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n[03:30.49] Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n[03:32.12] Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n[03:36.18] I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n[03:38.25] When I see ya I'ma\n[03:41.34] \n[04:00.32] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[04:02.61] Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n[04:05.02] Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n[04:07.69] Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n[04:10.57] Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n[04:13.45] Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n[04:15.94] Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n[04:18.61] You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n[04:21.15] Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n[04:23.30] They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n[04:25.28] One shot, they disappearin\n[04:27.26] Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n[04:29.29] Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n[04:31.74] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[04:34.59] They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n[04:37.02] Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n[04:39.95] And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n[04:43.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick In the Door\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: Notorious (Music from and Inspired By the Original Motion Picture) [Deluxe Version]\n duration_ms: 215000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Biggie\n start_ms: 72280\n end_ms: 75800\n- text: Uh; uh-uh\n start_ms: 75800\n end_ms: 77570\n- text: Uh\n start_ms: 77570\n end_ms: 78200\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 78200\n end_ms: 81040\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 81040\n end_ms: 86510\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 86510\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 91910\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 91910\n end_ms: 96080\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 96080\n end_ms: 98300\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n start_ms: 98300\n end_ms: 101450\n- text: Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n start_ms: 101450\n end_ms: 103650\n- text: Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n start_ms: 103650\n end_ms: 106750\n- text: You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n start_ms: 106750\n end_ms: 109750\n- text: In tank-light totes, tote iron\n start_ms: 109750\n end_ms: 111880\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n start_ms: 111880\n end_ms: 114620\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit\n start_ms: 114620\n end_ms: 116520\n- text: Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n start_ms: 116520\n end_ms: 119430\n- text: The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n start_ms: 119430\n end_ms: 121780\n- text: Ain't no tellin where I may be\n start_ms: 121780\n end_ms: 123330\n- text: May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n start_ms: 123330\n end_ms: 126300\n- text: With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n start_ms: 126300\n end_ms: 128620\n- text: You should know my steelo\n start_ms: 128620\n end_ms: 130330\n- text: Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n start_ms: 130330\n end_ms: 132980\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n start_ms: 132980\n end_ms: 135870\n- text: So, jesus, get off the notorious\n start_ms: 135870\n end_ms: 138850\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 138850\n end_ms: 141190\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it\n start_ms: 141190\n end_ms: 143330\n- text: With the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 143330\n end_ms: 144770\n- text: I make it hot, like a kettle get\n start_ms: 144770\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 148850\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n start_ms: 148850\n end_ms: 152530\n- text: Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n start_ms: 152530\n end_ms: 154160\n- text: Do it\n start_ms: 154160\n end_ms: 154540\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 154540\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 160060\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 160060\n end_ms: 162670\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 162670\n end_ms: 165410\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 165410\n end_ms: 168580\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 168580\n end_ms: 171150\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 171150\n end_ms: 176310\n- text: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 176310\n end_ms: 178930\n- text: Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n start_ms: 178930\n end_ms: 181610\n- text: Should I start your breath should I let you die\n start_ms: 181610\n end_ms: 183970\n- text: In fear you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 183970\n end_ms: 186490\n- text: Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n start_ms: 186490\n end_ms: 189590\n- text: You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 189590\n end_ms: 191590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n start_ms: 191590\n end_ms: 193520\n- text: You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 193520\n end_ms: 197330\n- text: Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n start_ms: 197330\n end_ms: 199880\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 199880\n end_ms: 201950\n- text: I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n start_ms: 201950\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 207800\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n start_ms: 207800\n end_ms: 210490\n- text: Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n start_ms: 210490\n end_ms: 212120\n- text: Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n start_ms: 212120\n end_ms: 216180\n- text: I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n start_ms: 216180\n end_ms: 218250\n- text: When I see ya I'ma\n start_ms: 218250\n end_ms: 221340\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 221340\n end_ms: 240320\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 240320\n end_ms: 242610\n- text: Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n start_ms: 242610\n end_ms: 245020\n- text: Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n start_ms: 245020\n end_ms: 247690\n- text: Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n start_ms: 247690\n end_ms: 250570\n- text: Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n start_ms: 250570\n end_ms: 253450\n- text: Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n start_ms: 253450\n end_ms: 255940\n- text: Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n start_ms: 255940\n end_ms: 258610\n- text: You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n start_ms: 258610\n end_ms: 261150\n- text: Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n start_ms: 261150\n end_ms: 263300\n- text: They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n start_ms: 263300\n end_ms: 265280\n- text: One shot, they disappearin\n start_ms: 265280\n end_ms: 267260\n- text: Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 267260\n end_ms: 269290\n- text: Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 269290\n end_ms: 271740\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 271740\n end_ms: 274590\n- text: They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n start_ms: 274590\n end_ms: 277020\n- text: Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n start_ms: 277020\n end_ms: 279950\n- text: And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n start_ms: 279950\n end_ms: 283010\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 283010\nplain: |-\n Biggie\n Uh; uh-uh\n Uh\n\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\n Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n In tank-light totes, tote iron\n\n Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n Keep extra clips for extra shit\n Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\n Ain't no tellin where I may be\n May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n You should know my steelo\n\n Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n So, jesus, get off the notorious\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n\n If the beef between us, we can settle it\n With the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot, like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n Do it\n\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\n On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\n Should I start your breath should I let you die\n\n In fear you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\n You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\n Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\n I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n When I see ya I'ma\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n\n Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n One shot, they disappearin\n Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\n Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\n And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n"},{"id":30680672,"name":"Kick In The Door","trackName":"Kick In The Door","artistName":"Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Notorious Music From And Inspired By The Original Motion Picture","duration":214.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie)\nUh, uh-huh\nUh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nAnd you, and you (uh)\n\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\nGet in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou gotta call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\nKeep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\nWho's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\nAin't no tellin' where I may be\nMay see me in D.C.\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\nFuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\nJesus! Get off the Notorious'\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\nBiggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\nOn ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\nShould I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\nIn fear, you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\nDon't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\nKick in the door, wavin' the .44\nAll you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of NY\nFuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\nNow ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recoupin', stupid!\nStupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.58] (Biggie)\n[00:02.96] Uh, uh-huh\n[00:06.15] Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:09.09] This goes out to you\n[00:10.64] And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[00:14.31] This goes out to you\n[00:16.99] This goes out to you (Biggie)\n[00:19.56] This goes out to you\n[00:21.43] And you, and you (uh)\n[00:23.53] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[00:26.14] As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n[00:29.38] Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n[00:31.44] It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n[00:34.69] You gotta call me Francis M.H\n[00:37.25] White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n[00:39.65] Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n[00:42.39] Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n[00:44.49] Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n[00:47.56] The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n[00:49.54] Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n[00:51.41] May see me in D.C.\n[00:52.93] At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n[00:55.46] Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n[00:58.36] Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n[01:00.96] To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n[01:04.00] Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n[01:06.66] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[01:08.70] If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n[01:12.50] I make it hot like a kettle get\n[01:14.06] You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n[01:16.78] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n[01:19.87] Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n[01:22.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:25.03] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:27.77] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:30.36] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[01:33.05] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[01:35.67] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[01:38.22] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[01:40.96] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n[01:43.59] On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n[01:46.17] Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n[01:48.85] Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n[01:51.44] In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n[01:53.75] Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n[01:56.91] You cursed it but rehearsed it\n[01:58.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n[02:02.05] Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[02:04.69] Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n[02:07.84] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[02:09.98] I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n[02:12.81] Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[02:15.66] Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n[02:18.55] Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n[02:20.67] Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n[02:23.32] I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n[02:26.56] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n[02:29.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n[02:31.73] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:34.35] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:37.20] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:39.80] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n[02:42.42] Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n[02:45.13] All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n[02:47.84] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[02:50.09] Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n[02:52.99] Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n[02:55.58] Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n[02:58.45] Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n[03:01.01] Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n[03:03.74] Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n[03:06.15] You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n[03:09.06] Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n[03:11.69] Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n[03:14.58] It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n[03:17.10] Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n[03:19.80] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[03:22.16] They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n[03:24.85] Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n[03:27.79] And you still recoupin', stupid!\n[03:29.89] Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n[03:31.14] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick In The Door\n artist: Notorious B.I.G.\n album: Notorious Music From And Inspired By The Original Motion Picture\n duration_ms: 214000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Biggie)\n start_ms: 1580\n end_ms: 2960\n- text: Uh, uh-huh\n start_ms: 2960\n end_ms: 6150\n- text: Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 6150\n end_ms: 9090\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 9090\n end_ms: 10640\n- text: And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 10640\n end_ms: 14310\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 14310\n end_ms: 16990\n- text: This goes out to you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 16990\n end_ms: 19560\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 19560\n end_ms: 21430\n- text: And you, and you (uh)\n start_ms: 21430\n end_ms: 23530\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 23530\n end_ms: 26140\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n start_ms: 26140\n end_ms: 29380\n- text: Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n start_ms: 29380\n end_ms: 31440\n- text: It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n start_ms: 31440\n end_ms: 34690\n- text: You gotta call me Francis M.H\n start_ms: 34690\n end_ms: 37250\n- text: White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n start_ms: 37250\n end_ms: 39650\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n start_ms: 39650\n end_ms: 42390\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 42390\n end_ms: 44490\n- text: Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n start_ms: 44490\n end_ms: 47560\n- text: The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n start_ms: 47560\n end_ms: 49540\n- text: Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n start_ms: 49540\n end_ms: 51410\n- text: May see me in D.C.\n start_ms: 51410\n end_ms: 52930\n- text: At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n start_ms: 52930\n end_ms: 55460\n- text: Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n start_ms: 55460\n end_ms: 58360\n- text: Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n start_ms: 58360\n end_ms: 60960\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n start_ms: 60960\n end_ms: 64000\n- text: Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n start_ms: 64000\n end_ms: 66660\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 66660\n end_ms: 68700\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 68700\n end_ms: 72500\n- text: I make it hot like a kettle get\n start_ms: 72500\n end_ms: 74060\n- text: You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n start_ms: 74060\n end_ms: 76780\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n start_ms: 76780\n end_ms: 79870\n- text: Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n start_ms: 79870\n end_ms: 82420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 82420\n end_ms: 85030\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 85030\n end_ms: 87770\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 87770\n end_ms: 90360\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 90360\n end_ms: 93050\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 93050\n end_ms: 95670\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 95670\n end_ms: 98220\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 98220\n end_ms: 100960\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n start_ms: 100960\n end_ms: 103590\n- text: On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 103590\n end_ms: 106170\n- text: Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n start_ms: 106170\n end_ms: 108850\n- text: Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n start_ms: 108850\n end_ms: 111440\n- text: In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 111440\n end_ms: 113750\n- text: Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n start_ms: 113750\n end_ms: 116910\n- text: You cursed it but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 116910\n end_ms: 118590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n start_ms: 118590\n end_ms: 122050\n- text: Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 122050\n end_ms: 124690\n- text: Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 124690\n end_ms: 127840\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 127840\n end_ms: 129980\n- text: I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n start_ms: 129980\n end_ms: 132810\n- text: Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 132810\n end_ms: 135660\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n start_ms: 135660\n end_ms: 138550\n- text: Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n start_ms: 138550\n end_ms: 140670\n- text: Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n start_ms: 140670\n end_ms: 143320\n- text: I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n start_ms: 143320\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 149130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n start_ms: 149130\n end_ms: 151730\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 151730\n end_ms: 154350\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 154350\n end_ms: 157200\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 157200\n end_ms: 159800\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n start_ms: 159800\n end_ms: 162420\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n start_ms: 162420\n end_ms: 165130\n- text: All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n start_ms: 165130\n end_ms: 167840\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 167840\n end_ms: 170090\n- text: Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n start_ms: 170090\n end_ms: 172990\n- text: Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n start_ms: 172990\n end_ms: 175580\n- text: Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n start_ms: 175580\n end_ms: 178450\n- text: Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n start_ms: 178450\n end_ms: 181010\n- text: Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n start_ms: 181010\n end_ms: 183740\n- text: Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n start_ms: 183740\n end_ms: 186150\n- text: You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n start_ms: 186150\n end_ms: 189060\n- text: Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n start_ms: 189060\n end_ms: 191690\n- text: Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n start_ms: 191690\n end_ms: 194580\n- text: It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 194580\n end_ms: 197100\n- text: Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 197100\n end_ms: 199800\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 199800\n end_ms: 202160\n- text: They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n start_ms: 202160\n end_ms: 204850\n- text: Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n start_ms: 204850\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: And you still recoupin', stupid!\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 209890\n- text: Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n start_ms: 209890\n end_ms: 211140\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 211140\nplain: |-\n (Biggie)\n Uh, uh-huh\n Uh, this goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n And you, and you (uh)\n\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons (uh)\n Get in that ass quick-fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You gotta call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n\n Keep extra clips for extra shit (uh-huh)\n Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady (tell 'em!) Frankie, baby\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be\n May see me in D.C.\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbin'\n Fuckin' somethin', you should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to 30 G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo', so\n\n Jesus! Get off the Notorious'\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get- who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than \"Great Adventure\"\n Biggie (\"How are you gonna do it?\")\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more (uh, uh-huh)\n\n On ya mark, get set when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death (uh)\n Should I start your breath, or should I let ya die?\n In fear, you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n\n Don't forget the publishin', I punish 'em (uh-huh), I'm done with them (uh-huh)\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, 'cause they nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' wit' yo' bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick, when I see ya, I'ma-\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 (uh-huh)\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\" (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, wavin' the .44\n All you heard was, \"Poppa, don't hit me no more\"\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of NY\n Fuck that, why try? Throw bleach in ya eye\n Now ya braillin' it, snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson & Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on, son? You need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin' (uh)\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They lightweight, fragili, my nine milli'\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recoupin', stupid!\n Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...\n"},{"id":8520768,"name":"Kick in the Door - 2014 Remaster","trackName":"Kick in the Door - 2014 Remaster","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Notorious V: The King of New York","duration":286.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Welcome back, we're here on Bad Boy Television\nAnd I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper and quite frankly, he's very mad\nWe're gonna try to find out why, so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience\nYes ma'am, please stand and state your name and where you're from\n\nHi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle\nAnd I just don't understand; why you so mad?\nLike, what are you so mad about?\n\nYo, yo, yo-yo, y'know, yo you wanna know why?\nYo first of all, you can't be askin' me no question, you know what I'm sayin'?\nWho the fuck is you? You know what I'm sayin'? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper)\nYou can't be askin' me no question (It's a family oriented show)\nI'ma tell you why I'm mad, you know what I'm sayin'?\nI'ma tell you why I'm mad, I'ma tell you why I'm mad\nThese niggas is makin' five hundred thousand dollar videos, you know sayin?\nThey drivin' around in hot cars, you know I'm sayin?\nThey got bitches, they got all that shit (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language)\nYou know what I'm sayin'? I'm still livin' with my moms, you know what I'm sayin'?\nThat's my word, You know I'm s-?\nI'm makin' records, I ain't made no money yet I done made-\nThis is my fourth album yo, this my fourth album\nI ain't made a dime yet\nThis nigga made one album, he makin' wild records\nThat \"Ready to Die\" shit, it was aight, it was aight\nYou know I'm sayin', that shit was aight, it was cool\nBut my shit is J-more John Blaze than that\nI got John Blaze shit and they not resp-ecognising, they not sayin'\n\"I recognize\" And fuck is that, who is you to be askin' me questions\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Who is you?\n\nI gots to talk\nI gotta tell what I feel\nI gotta talk about my life as I see it\n\nBiggie\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you\n\nUhh, your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\nGet in that ass quick, fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou got to call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\nKeep extra clips for extra shit, who's next to\nFlip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady, (Tell 'em!) Frankie baby\nAin't no telling where\nI may be, may see me in D.C\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbing\nFucking something, you should know my steelo\nWent from ten Gs for blow to 30 Gs a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen before\nSo, Jesus, get off the Notorious'\nPenis before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome\nAnd metal shit, I make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get - who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure\nBiggie (How are you gonna do it?)\n\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\nKick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n\nOn ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death\nShould I start your breath or should I let you die\nIn fear you start to cry, ask why, lyrically\nI'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it, but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\nDon't forget the publishing, I punish 'em, I'm done with them\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them, I think they got\nCum in them 'cause they nothing but dicks\nTrying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, laying with your bitch\nI know you praying you was rich, fucking prick, when I see ya I'ma\n\nKick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of N-Y\nFuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\nNow ya brailling it, snatch that light shit, I'm scaling it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson and Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on son, you need to ask me\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothing but my children, one shot they disappearing\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey light weight, fragili, my nine milli\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recouping, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.09] Welcome back, we're here on Bad Boy Television\n[00:04.87] And I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper and quite frankly, he's very mad\n[00:10.29] We're gonna try to find out why, so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience\n[00:14.54] Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name and where you're from\n[00:17.80] Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle\n[00:20.51] And I just don't understand; why you so mad?\n[00:24.19] Like, what are you so mad about?\n[00:25.51] Yo, yo, yo-yo, y'know, yo you wanna know why?\n[00:26.82] Yo first of all, you can't be askin' me no question, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[00:29.00] Who the fuck is you? You know what I'm sayin'? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper)\n[00:30.43] You can't be askin' me no question (It's a family oriented show)\n[00:31.45] I'ma tell you why I'm mad, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[00:32.61] I'ma tell you why I'm mad, I'ma tell you why I'm mad\n[00:35.02] These niggas is makin' five hundred thousand dollar videos, you know sayin?\n[00:37.72] They drivin' around in hot cars, you know I'm sayin?\n[00:39.75] They got bitches, they got all that shit (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language)\n[00:41.52] You know what I'm sayin'? I'm still livin' with my moms, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[00:43.46] That's my word, You know I'm s-?\n[00:44.90] I'm makin' records, I ain't made no money yet I done made-\n[00:46.79] This is my fourth album yo, this my fourth album\n[00:50.25] I ain't made a dime yet\n[00:51.48] This nigga made one album, he makin' wild records\n[00:53.89] That \"Ready to Die\" shit, it was aight, it was aight\n[00:55.55] You know I'm sayin', that shit was aight, it was cool\n[00:56.84] But my shit is J-more John Blaze than that\n[00:58.94] I got John Blaze shit and they not resp-ecognising, they not sayin'\n[01:02.14] \"I recognize\" And fuck is that, who is you to be askin' me questions\n[01:04.74] You know what I'm sayin'? Who is you?\n[01:06.28] I gots to talk\n[01:06.94] I gotta tell what I feel\n[01:08.71] I gotta talk about my life as I see it\n[01:13.27] Biggie\n[01:15.31] \n[01:18.02] This goes out to you\n[01:20.62] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you\n[01:26.24] This goes out to you\n[01:28.56] This goes out to you\n[01:31.07] This goes out to you, and you, and you\n[01:34.69] Uhh, your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[01:37.38] As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n[01:40.42] Get in that ass quick, fast like Ramadan\n[01:42.62] It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n[01:45.98] You got to call me Francis M.H\n[01:48.48] White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n[01:50.90] Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n[01:53.40] Keep extra clips for extra shit, who's next to\n[01:56.26] Flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n[01:58.43] The most shady, (Tell 'em!) Frankie baby\n[02:00.66] Ain't no telling where\n[02:02.32] I may be, may see me in D.C\n[02:04.15] At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbing\n[02:06.85] Fucking something, you should know my steelo\n[02:09.39] Went from ten Gs for blow to 30 Gs a show\n[02:12.17] To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n[02:14.76] So, Jesus, get off the Notorious'\n[02:17.97] Penis before I squeeze and bust\n[02:20.06] If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome\n[02:22.82] And metal shit, I make it hot like a kettle get\n[02:25.31] You're delicate, you better get - who sent ya?\n[02:27.85] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure\n[02:30.84] Biggie (How are you gonna do it?)\n[02:33.68] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[02:36.25] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:38.89] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[02:41.52] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:44.18] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[02:46.73] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n[02:49.68] Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n[02:52.35] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:54.53] On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n[02:57.27] Look how dark it get when you're marked for death\n[02:59.87] Should I start your breath or should I let you die\n[03:02.45] In fear you start to cry, ask why, lyrically\n[03:05.46] I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n[03:07.86] You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n[03:09.95] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n[03:13.06] Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[03:15.82] Don't forget the publishing, I punish 'em, I'm done with them\n[03:18.89] Son, I'm surprised you run with them, I think they got\n[03:21.53] Cum in them 'cause they nothing but dicks\n[03:23.85] Trying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[03:26.44] Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n[03:29.18] Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n[03:31.93] Take trips to Cairo, laying with your bitch\n[03:34.32] I know you praying you was rich, fucking prick, when I see ya I'ma\n[03:37.64] Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n[03:40.30] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Uh, uh, uh)\n[03:42.88] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[03:45.47] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n[03:48.02] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[03:50.83] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n[03:53.32] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[03:56.11] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n[03:58.69] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[04:01.21] Disrespectful views on the King of N-Y\n[04:03.73] Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n[04:06.47] Now ya brailling it, snatch that light shit, I'm scaling it\n[04:09.55] Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n[04:12.12] Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson\n[04:14.72] Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n[04:17.18] You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n[04:19.89] Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n[04:22.70] Nothing but my children, one shot they disappearing\n[04:25.63] It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n[04:28.17] Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n[04:30.86] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[04:33.59] They light weight, fragili, my nine milli\n[04:36.02] Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n[04:38.68] And you still recouping, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid\n[04:44.38] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick in the Door - 2014 Remaster\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: 'Notorious V: The King of New York'\n duration_ms: 286000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Welcome back, we're here on Bad Boy Television\n start_ms: 3090\n end_ms: 4870\n- text: And I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper and quite frankly, he's very mad\n start_ms: 4870\n end_ms: 10290\n- text: We're gonna try to find out why, so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience\n start_ms: 10290\n end_ms: 14540\n- text: Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name and where you're from\n start_ms: 14540\n end_ms: 17800\n- text: Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle\n start_ms: 17800\n end_ms: 20510\n- text: And I just don't understand; why you so mad?\n start_ms: 20510\n end_ms: 24190\n- text: Like, what are you so mad about?\n start_ms: 24190\n end_ms: 25510\n- text: Yo, yo, yo-yo, y'know, yo you wanna know why?\n start_ms: 25510\n end_ms: 26820\n- text: Yo first of all, you can't be askin' me no question, you know what I'm sayin'?\n start_ms: 26820\n end_ms: 29000\n- text: Who the fuck is you? You know what I'm sayin'? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper)\n start_ms: 29000\n end_ms: 30430\n- text: You can't be askin' me no question (It's a family oriented show)\n start_ms: 30430\n end_ms: 31450\n- text: I'ma tell you why I'm mad, you know what I'm sayin'?\n start_ms: 31450\n end_ms: 32610\n- text: I'ma tell you why I'm mad, I'ma tell you why I'm mad\n start_ms: 32610\n end_ms: 35020\n- text: These niggas is makin' five hundred thousand dollar videos, you know sayin?\n start_ms: 35020\n end_ms: 37720\n- text: They drivin' around in hot cars, you know I'm sayin?\n start_ms: 37720\n end_ms: 39750\n- text: They got bitches, they got all that shit (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language)\n start_ms: 39750\n end_ms: 41520\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'? I'm still livin' with my moms, you know what I'm sayin'?\n start_ms: 41520\n end_ms: 43460\n- text: That's my word, You know I'm s-?\n start_ms: 43460\n end_ms: 44900\n- text: I'm makin' records, I ain't made no money yet I done made-\n start_ms: 44900\n end_ms: 46790\n- text: This is my fourth album yo, this my fourth album\n start_ms: 46790\n end_ms: 50250\n- text: I ain't made a dime yet\n start_ms: 50250\n end_ms: 51480\n- text: This nigga made one album, he makin' wild records\n start_ms: 51480\n end_ms: 53890\n- text: That \"Ready to Die\" shit, it was aight, it was aight\n start_ms: 53890\n end_ms: 55550\n- text: You know I'm sayin', that shit was aight, it was cool\n start_ms: 55550\n end_ms: 56840\n- text: But my shit is J-more John Blaze than that\n start_ms: 56840\n end_ms: 58940\n- text: I got John Blaze shit and they not resp-ecognising, they not sayin'\n start_ms: 58940\n end_ms: 62140\n- text: '\"I recognize\" And fuck is that, who is you to be askin'' me questions'\n start_ms: 62140\n end_ms: 64740\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'? Who is you?\n start_ms: 64740\n end_ms: 66280\n- text: I gots to talk\n start_ms: 66280\n end_ms: 66940\n- text: I gotta tell what I feel\n start_ms: 66940\n end_ms: 68710\n- text: I gotta talk about my life as I see it\n start_ms: 68710\n end_ms: 73270\n- text: Biggie\n start_ms: 73270\n end_ms: 75310\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 75310\n end_ms: 78020\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 78020\n end_ms: 80620\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you\n start_ms: 80620\n end_ms: 86240\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 86240\n end_ms: 88560\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 88560\n end_ms: 91070\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you\n start_ms: 91070\n end_ms: 94690\n- text: Uhh, your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 94690\n end_ms: 97380\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n start_ms: 97380\n end_ms: 100420\n- text: Get in that ass quick, fast like Ramadan\n start_ms: 100420\n end_ms: 102620\n- text: It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n start_ms: 102620\n end_ms: 105980\n- text: You got to call me Francis M.H\n start_ms: 105980\n end_ms: 108480\n- text: White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n start_ms: 108480\n end_ms: 110900\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n start_ms: 110900\n end_ms: 113400\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit, who's next to\n start_ms: 113400\n end_ms: 116260\n- text: Flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n start_ms: 116260\n end_ms: 118430\n- text: The most shady, (Tell 'em!) Frankie baby\n start_ms: 118430\n end_ms: 120660\n- text: Ain't no telling where\n start_ms: 120660\n end_ms: 122320\n- text: I may be, may see me in D.C\n start_ms: 122320\n end_ms: 124150\n- text: At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbing\n start_ms: 124150\n end_ms: 126850\n- text: Fucking something, you should know my steelo\n start_ms: 126850\n end_ms: 129390\n- text: Went from ten Gs for blow to 30 Gs a show\n start_ms: 129390\n end_ms: 132170\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n start_ms: 132170\n end_ms: 134760\n- text: So, Jesus, get off the Notorious'\n start_ms: 134760\n end_ms: 137970\n- text: Penis before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 137970\n end_ms: 140060\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome\n start_ms: 140060\n end_ms: 142820\n- text: And metal shit, I make it hot like a kettle get\n start_ms: 142820\n end_ms: 145310\n- text: You're delicate, you better get - who sent ya?\n start_ms: 145310\n end_ms: 147850\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure\n start_ms: 147850\n end_ms: 150840\n- text: Biggie (How are you gonna do it?)\n start_ms: 150840\n end_ms: 153680\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 153680\n end_ms: 156250\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 156250\n end_ms: 158890\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 158890\n end_ms: 161520\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 161520\n end_ms: 164180\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 164180\n end_ms: 166730\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n start_ms: 166730\n end_ms: 169680\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n start_ms: 169680\n end_ms: 172350\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 172350\n end_ms: 174530\n- text: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 174530\n end_ms: 177270\n- text: Look how dark it get when you're marked for death\n start_ms: 177270\n end_ms: 179870\n- text: Should I start your breath or should I let you die\n start_ms: 179870\n end_ms: 182450\n- text: In fear you start to cry, ask why, lyrically\n start_ms: 182450\n end_ms: 185460\n- text: I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n start_ms: 185460\n end_ms: 187860\n- text: You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 187860\n end_ms: 189950\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n start_ms: 189950\n end_ms: 193060\n- text: Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 193060\n end_ms: 195820\n- text: Don't forget the publishing, I punish 'em, I'm done with them\n start_ms: 195820\n end_ms: 198890\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them, I think they got\n start_ms: 198890\n end_ms: 201530\n- text: Cum in them 'cause they nothing but dicks\n start_ms: 201530\n end_ms: 203850\n- text: Trying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 203850\n end_ms: 206440\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n start_ms: 206440\n end_ms: 209180\n- text: Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n start_ms: 209180\n end_ms: 211930\n- text: Take trips to Cairo, laying with your bitch\n start_ms: 211930\n end_ms: 214320\n- text: I know you praying you was rich, fucking prick, when I see ya I'ma\n start_ms: 214320\n end_ms: 217640\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n start_ms: 217640\n end_ms: 220300\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Uh, uh, uh)\n start_ms: 220300\n end_ms: 222880\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 222880\n end_ms: 225470\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 225470\n end_ms: 228020\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 228020\n end_ms: 230830\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n start_ms: 230830\n end_ms: 233320\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 233320\n end_ms: 236110\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 236110\n end_ms: 238690\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 238690\n end_ms: 241210\n- text: Disrespectful views on the King of N-Y\n start_ms: 241210\n end_ms: 243730\n- text: Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n start_ms: 243730\n end_ms: 246470\n- text: Now ya brailling it, snatch that light shit, I'm scaling it\n start_ms: 246470\n end_ms: 249550\n- text: Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n start_ms: 249550\n end_ms: 252120\n- text: Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson\n start_ms: 252120\n end_ms: 254720\n- text: Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n start_ms: 254720\n end_ms: 257180\n- text: You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n start_ms: 257180\n end_ms: 259890\n- text: Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n start_ms: 259890\n end_ms: 262700\n- text: Nothing but my children, one shot they disappearing\n start_ms: 262700\n end_ms: 265630\n- text: It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 265630\n end_ms: 268170\n- text: Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 268170\n end_ms: 270860\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 270860\n end_ms: 273590\n- text: They light weight, fragili, my nine milli\n start_ms: 273590\n end_ms: 276020\n- text: Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n start_ms: 276020\n end_ms: 278680\n- text: And you still recouping, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid\n start_ms: 278680\n end_ms: 284380\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 284380\nplain: |-\n Welcome back, we're here on Bad Boy Television\n And I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper and quite frankly, he's very mad\n We're gonna try to find out why, so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience\n Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name and where you're from\n\n Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle\n And I just don't understand; why you so mad?\n Like, what are you so mad about?\n\n Yo, yo, yo-yo, y'know, yo you wanna know why?\n Yo first of all, you can't be askin' me no question, you know what I'm sayin'?\n Who the fuck is you? You know what I'm sayin'? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper)\n You can't be askin' me no question (It's a family oriented show)\n I'ma tell you why I'm mad, you know what I'm sayin'?\n I'ma tell you why I'm mad, I'ma tell you why I'm mad\n These niggas is makin' five hundred thousand dollar videos, you know sayin?\n They drivin' around in hot cars, you know I'm sayin?\n They got bitches, they got all that shit (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language)\n You know what I'm sayin'? I'm still livin' with my moms, you know what I'm sayin'?\n That's my word, You know I'm s-?\n I'm makin' records, I ain't made no money yet I done made-\n This is my fourth album yo, this my fourth album\n I ain't made a dime yet\n This nigga made one album, he makin' wild records\n That \"Ready to Die\" shit, it was aight, it was aight\n You know I'm sayin', that shit was aight, it was cool\n But my shit is J-more John Blaze than that\n I got John Blaze shit and they not resp-ecognising, they not sayin'\n \"I recognize\" And fuck is that, who is you to be askin' me questions\n You know what I'm sayin'? Who is you?\n\n I gots to talk\n I gotta tell what I feel\n I gotta talk about my life as I see it\n\n Biggie\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you\n\n Uhh, your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n Get in that ass quick, fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You got to call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n Keep extra clips for extra shit, who's next to\n Flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady, (Tell 'em!) Frankie baby\n Ain't no telling where\n I may be, may see me in D.C\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbing\n Fucking something, you should know my steelo\n Went from ten Gs for blow to 30 Gs a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n So, Jesus, get off the Notorious'\n Penis before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome\n And metal shit, I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get - who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure\n Biggie (How are you gonna do it?)\n\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n\n On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death\n Should I start your breath or should I let you die\n In fear you start to cry, ask why, lyrically\n I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n Don't forget the publishing, I punish 'em, I'm done with them\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them, I think they got\n Cum in them 'cause they nothing but dicks\n Trying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, laying with your bitch\n I know you praying you was rich, fucking prick, when I see ya I'ma\n\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of N-Y\n Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n Now ya brailling it, snatch that light shit, I'm scaling it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothing but my children, one shot they disappearing\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They light weight, fragili, my nine milli\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recouping, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid\n"},{"id":16134861,"name":"Kick in the Door (2014 Remaster)","trackName":"Kick in the Door (2014 Remaster)","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Notorious V: The King of New York - EP","duration":286.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Welcome back, we're here on Bad Boy Television\nAnd I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper and quite frankly, he's very mad\nWe're gonna try to find out why, so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience\nYes ma'am, please stand and state your name and where you're from\n\nHi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle\nAnd I just don't understand; why you so mad?\nLike, what are you so mad about?\n\nYo, yo, yo-yo, y'know, yo you wanna know why?\nYo first of all, you can't be askin' me no question, you know what I'm sayin'?\nWho the fuck is you? You know what I'm sayin'? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper)\nYou can't be askin' me no question (It's a family oriented show)\nI'ma tell you why I'm mad, you know what I'm sayin'?\nI'ma tell you why I'm mad, I'ma tell you why I'm mad\nThese niggas is makin' five hundred thousand dollar videos, you know sayin?\nThey drivin' around in hot cars, you know I'm sayin?\nThey got bitches, they got all that shit (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language)\nYou know what I'm sayin'? I'm still livin' with my moms, you know what I'm sayin'?\nThat's my word, You know I'm s-?\nI'm makin' records, I ain't made no money yet I done made-\nThis is my fourth album yo, this my fourth album\nI ain't made a dime yet\nThis nigga made one album, he makin' wild records\nThat \"Ready to Die\" shit, it was aight, it was aight\nYou know I'm sayin', that shit was aight, it was cool\nBut my shit is J-more John Blaze than that\nI got John Blaze shit and they not resp-ecognising, they not sayin'\n\"I recognize\" And fuck is that, who is you to be askin' me questions\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Who is you?\n\nI gots to talk\nI gotta tell what I feel\nI gotta talk about my life as I see it\n\nBiggie\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you\n\nUhh, your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\nGet in that ass quick, fast like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\nYou got to call me Francis M.H\nWhite, intake light tokes, tote iron\nWas told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\nKeep extra clips for extra shit, who's next to\nFlip on that cat with that grip on rap?\nThe most shady, (Tell 'em!) Frankie baby\nAin't no telling where\nI may be, may see me in D.C\nAt Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbing\nFucking something, you should know my steelo\nWent from ten Gs for blow to 30 Gs a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen before\nSo, Jesus, get off the Notorious'\nPenis before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome\nAnd metal shit, I make it hot like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get - who sent ya?\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure\nBiggie (How are you gonna do it?)\n\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\nKick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n\nOn ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get when you're marked for death\nShould I start your breath or should I let you die\nIn fear you start to cry, ask why, lyrically\nI'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\nYou cursed it, but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\nStuck quickly for royalties and show money\nDon't forget the publishing, I punish 'em, I'm done with them\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them, I think they got\nCum in them 'cause they nothing but dicks\nTrying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\nGot paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\nTake trips to Cairo, laying with your bitch\nI know you praying you was rich, fucking prick, when I see ya I'ma\n\nKick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Uh, uh, uh)\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\nKick in the door, waving the four-four\nAll you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the King of N-Y\nFuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\nNow ya brailling it, snatch that light shit, I'm scaling it\nConscious of ya nonsense, in '88\nSold more powder than Johnson and Johnson\nTote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\nYou wanna get on son, you need to ask me\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\nNothing but my children, one shot they disappearing\nIt's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\nTook home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey light weight, fragili, my nine milli\nMake the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\nAnd you still recouping, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.79] Welcome back, we're here on Bad Boy Television\n[00:05.09] And I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper and quite frankly, he's very mad\n[00:10.56] We're gonna try to find out why, so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience\n[00:15.06] Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name and where you're from\n[00:18.24] Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle\n[00:21.34] And I just don't understand; why you so mad?\n[00:24.34] Like, what are you so mad about?\n[00:25.32] Yo, yo, yo-yo, y'know, yo you wanna know why?\n[00:26.97] Yo first of all, you can't be askin' me no question, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[00:29.18] Who the fuck is you? You know what I'm sayin'? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper)\n[00:30.70] You can't be askin' me no question (It's a family oriented show)\n[00:32.14] I'ma tell you why I'm mad, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[00:33.10] I'ma tell you why I'm mad, I'ma tell you why I'm mad\n[00:35.27] These niggas is makin' five hundred thousand dollar videos, you know sayin?\n[00:38.16] They drivin' around in hot cars, you know I'm sayin?\n[00:39.97] They got bitches, they got all that shit (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language)\n[00:42.67] You know what I'm sayin'? I'm still livin' with my moms, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[00:44.33] That's my word, You know I'm s-?\n[00:44.80] I'm makin' records, I ain't made no money yet I done made-\n[00:47.03] This is my fourth album yo, this my fourth album\n[00:50.40] I ain't made a dime yet\n[00:51.72] This nigga made one album, he makin' wild records\n[00:53.93] That \"Ready to Die\" shit, it was aight, it was aight\n[00:55.74] You know I'm sayin', that shit was aight, it was cool\n[00:57.14] But my shit is J-more John Blaze than that\n[00:59.41] I got John Blaze shit and they not resp-ecognising, they not sayin'\n[01:02.66] \"I recognize\" And fuck is that, who is you to be askin' me questions\n[01:05.09] You know what I'm sayin'? Who is you?\n[01:06.16] I gots to talk\n[01:07.19] I gotta tell what I feel\n[01:08.97] I gotta talk about my life as I see it\n[01:11.06] Biggie\n[01:13.10] \n[01:18.08] This goes out to you\n[01:20.64] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you\n[01:25.92] This goes out to you\n[01:28.62] This goes out to you\n[01:31.28] This goes out to you, and you, and you\n[01:34.47] Uhh, your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[01:37.64] As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n[01:40.86] Get in that ass quick, fast like Ramadan\n[01:42.95] It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n[01:46.24] You got to call me Francis M.H\n[01:48.60] White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n[01:51.16] Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n[01:53.91] Keep extra clips for extra shit, who's next to\n[01:56.57] Flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n[01:58.83] The most shady, (Tell 'em!) Frankie baby\n[02:00.98] Ain't no telling where\n[02:01.71] I may be, may see me in D.C\n[02:04.24] At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbing\n[02:06.92] Fucking something, you should know my steelo\n[02:09.61] Went from ten Gs for blow to 30 Gs a show\n[02:12.26] To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n[02:14.96] So, Jesus, get off the Notorious'\n[02:18.05] Penis before I squeeze and bust\n[02:20.21] If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome\n[02:23.17] And metal shit, I make it hot like a kettle get\n[02:25.52] You're delicate, you better get - who sent ya?\n[02:28.09] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure\n[02:31.43] Biggie (How are you gonna do it?)\n[02:33.82] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[02:36.77] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:39.29] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[02:42.00] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:44.51] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[02:47.32] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n[02:49.82] Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n[02:52.20] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:54.99] On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n[02:57.56] Look how dark it get when you're marked for death\n[03:00.26] Should I start your breath or should I let you die\n[03:02.94] In fear you start to cry, ask why, lyrically\n[03:05.91] I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n[03:08.27] You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n[03:10.21] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n[03:13.52] Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[03:16.24] Don't forget the publishing, I punish 'em, I'm done with them\n[03:19.24] Son, I'm surprised you run with them, I think they got\n[03:21.91] Cum in them 'cause they nothing but dicks\n[03:24.25] Trying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[03:27.08] Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n[03:29.63] Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n[03:32.16] Take trips to Cairo, laying with your bitch\n[03:34.85] I know you praying you was rich, fucking prick, when I see ya I'ma\n[03:37.89] Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n[03:40.12] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Uh, uh, uh)\n[03:43.16] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[03:45.97] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n[03:48.55] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[03:51.36] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n[03:53.80] Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n[03:56.67] All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n[03:59.13] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[04:01.50] Disrespectful views on the King of N-Y\n[04:04.27] Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n[04:06.85] Now ya brailling it, snatch that light shit, I'm scaling it\n[04:09.82] Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n[04:12.40] Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson\n[04:15.05] Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n[04:17.71] You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n[04:20.57] Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n[04:23.11] Nothing but my children, one shot they disappearing\n[04:26.06] It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n[04:28.48] Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n[04:31.29] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[04:33.78] They light weight, fragili, my nine milli\n[04:36.01] Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n[04:39.04] And you still recouping, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid\n[04:42.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick in the Door (2014 Remaster)\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: 'Notorious V: The King of New York - EP'\n duration_ms: 286000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Welcome back, we're here on Bad Boy Television\n start_ms: 2790\n end_ms: 5090\n- text: And I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper and quite frankly, he's very mad\n start_ms: 5090\n end_ms: 10560\n- text: We're gonna try to find out why, so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience\n start_ms: 10560\n end_ms: 15060\n- text: Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name and where you're from\n start_ms: 15060\n end_ms: 18240\n- text: Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle\n start_ms: 18240\n end_ms: 21340\n- text: And I just don't understand; why you so mad?\n start_ms: 21340\n end_ms: 24340\n- text: Like, what are you so mad about?\n start_ms: 24340\n end_ms: 25320\n- text: Yo, yo, yo-yo, y'know, yo you wanna know why?\n start_ms: 25320\n end_ms: 26970\n- text: Yo first of all, you can't be askin' me no question, you know what I'm sayin'?\n start_ms: 26970\n end_ms: 29180\n- text: Who the fuck is you? You know what I'm sayin'? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper)\n start_ms: 29180\n end_ms: 30700\n- text: You can't be askin' me no question (It's a family oriented show)\n start_ms: 30700\n end_ms: 32140\n- text: I'ma tell you why I'm mad, you know what I'm sayin'?\n start_ms: 32140\n end_ms: 33100\n- text: I'ma tell you why I'm mad, I'ma tell you why I'm mad\n start_ms: 33100\n end_ms: 35270\n- text: These niggas is makin' five hundred thousand dollar videos, you know sayin?\n start_ms: 35270\n end_ms: 38160\n- text: They drivin' around in hot cars, you know I'm sayin?\n start_ms: 38160\n end_ms: 39970\n- text: They got bitches, they got all that shit (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language)\n start_ms: 39970\n end_ms: 42670\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'? I'm still livin' with my moms, you know what I'm sayin'?\n start_ms: 42670\n end_ms: 44330\n- text: That's my word, You know I'm s-?\n start_ms: 44330\n end_ms: 44800\n- text: I'm makin' records, I ain't made no money yet I done made-\n start_ms: 44800\n end_ms: 47030\n- text: This is my fourth album yo, this my fourth album\n start_ms: 47030\n end_ms: 50400\n- text: I ain't made a dime yet\n start_ms: 50400\n end_ms: 51720\n- text: This nigga made one album, he makin' wild records\n start_ms: 51720\n end_ms: 53930\n- text: That \"Ready to Die\" shit, it was aight, it was aight\n start_ms: 53930\n end_ms: 55740\n- text: You know I'm sayin', that shit was aight, it was cool\n start_ms: 55740\n end_ms: 57140\n- text: But my shit is J-more John Blaze than that\n start_ms: 57140\n end_ms: 59410\n- text: I got John Blaze shit and they not resp-ecognising, they not sayin'\n start_ms: 59410\n end_ms: 62660\n- text: '\"I recognize\" And fuck is that, who is you to be askin'' me questions'\n start_ms: 62660\n end_ms: 65090\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'? Who is you?\n start_ms: 65090\n end_ms: 66160\n- text: I gots to talk\n start_ms: 66160\n end_ms: 67190\n- text: I gotta tell what I feel\n start_ms: 67190\n end_ms: 68970\n- text: I gotta talk about my life as I see it\n start_ms: 68970\n end_ms: 71060\n- text: Biggie\n start_ms: 71060\n end_ms: 73100\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 73100\n end_ms: 78080\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 78080\n end_ms: 80640\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you\n start_ms: 80640\n end_ms: 85920\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 85920\n end_ms: 88620\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 88620\n end_ms: 91280\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you\n start_ms: 91280\n end_ms: 94470\n- text: Uhh, your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 94470\n end_ms: 97640\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n start_ms: 97640\n end_ms: 100860\n- text: Get in that ass quick, fast like Ramadan\n start_ms: 100860\n end_ms: 102950\n- text: It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n start_ms: 102950\n end_ms: 106240\n- text: You got to call me Francis M.H\n start_ms: 106240\n end_ms: 108600\n- text: White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n start_ms: 108600\n end_ms: 111160\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n start_ms: 111160\n end_ms: 113910\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit, who's next to\n start_ms: 113910\n end_ms: 116570\n- text: Flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n start_ms: 116570\n end_ms: 118830\n- text: The most shady, (Tell 'em!) Frankie baby\n start_ms: 118830\n end_ms: 120980\n- text: Ain't no telling where\n start_ms: 120980\n end_ms: 121710\n- text: I may be, may see me in D.C\n start_ms: 121710\n end_ms: 124240\n- text: At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbing\n start_ms: 124240\n end_ms: 126920\n- text: Fucking something, you should know my steelo\n start_ms: 126920\n end_ms: 129610\n- text: Went from ten Gs for blow to 30 Gs a show\n start_ms: 129610\n end_ms: 132260\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n start_ms: 132260\n end_ms: 134960\n- text: So, Jesus, get off the Notorious'\n start_ms: 134960\n end_ms: 138050\n- text: Penis before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 138050\n end_ms: 140210\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome\n start_ms: 140210\n end_ms: 143170\n- text: And metal shit, I make it hot like a kettle get\n start_ms: 143170\n end_ms: 145520\n- text: You're delicate, you better get - who sent ya?\n start_ms: 145520\n end_ms: 148090\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure\n start_ms: 148090\n end_ms: 151430\n- text: Biggie (How are you gonna do it?)\n start_ms: 151430\n end_ms: 153820\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 153820\n end_ms: 156770\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 156770\n end_ms: 159290\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 159290\n end_ms: 162000\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 162000\n end_ms: 164510\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 164510\n end_ms: 167320\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n start_ms: 167320\n end_ms: 169820\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n start_ms: 169820\n end_ms: 172200\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 172200\n end_ms: 174990\n- text: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 174990\n end_ms: 177560\n- text: Look how dark it get when you're marked for death\n start_ms: 177560\n end_ms: 180260\n- text: Should I start your breath or should I let you die\n start_ms: 180260\n end_ms: 182940\n- text: In fear you start to cry, ask why, lyrically\n start_ms: 182940\n end_ms: 185910\n- text: I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n start_ms: 185910\n end_ms: 188270\n- text: You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 188270\n end_ms: 190210\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n start_ms: 190210\n end_ms: 193520\n- text: Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 193520\n end_ms: 196240\n- text: Don't forget the publishing, I punish 'em, I'm done with them\n start_ms: 196240\n end_ms: 199240\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them, I think they got\n start_ms: 199240\n end_ms: 201910\n- text: Cum in them 'cause they nothing but dicks\n start_ms: 201910\n end_ms: 204250\n- text: Trying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 204250\n end_ms: 207080\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n start_ms: 207080\n end_ms: 209630\n- text: Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n start_ms: 209630\n end_ms: 212160\n- text: Take trips to Cairo, laying with your bitch\n start_ms: 212160\n end_ms: 214850\n- text: I know you praying you was rich, fucking prick, when I see ya I'ma\n start_ms: 214850\n end_ms: 217890\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n start_ms: 217890\n end_ms: 220120\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Uh, uh, uh)\n start_ms: 220120\n end_ms: 223160\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 223160\n end_ms: 225970\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 225970\n end_ms: 228550\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 228550\n end_ms: 231360\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n start_ms: 231360\n end_ms: 233800\n- text: Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n start_ms: 233800\n end_ms: 236670\n- text: All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 236670\n end_ms: 239130\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 239130\n end_ms: 241500\n- text: Disrespectful views on the King of N-Y\n start_ms: 241500\n end_ms: 244270\n- text: Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n start_ms: 244270\n end_ms: 246850\n- text: Now ya brailling it, snatch that light shit, I'm scaling it\n start_ms: 246850\n end_ms: 249820\n- text: Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n start_ms: 249820\n end_ms: 252400\n- text: Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson\n start_ms: 252400\n end_ms: 255050\n- text: Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n start_ms: 255050\n end_ms: 257710\n- text: You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n start_ms: 257710\n end_ms: 260570\n- text: Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n start_ms: 260570\n end_ms: 263110\n- text: Nothing but my children, one shot they disappearing\n start_ms: 263110\n end_ms: 266060\n- text: It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 266060\n end_ms: 268480\n- text: Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 268480\n end_ms: 271290\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 271290\n end_ms: 273780\n- text: They light weight, fragili, my nine milli\n start_ms: 273780\n end_ms: 276010\n- text: Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n start_ms: 276010\n end_ms: 279040\n- text: And you still recouping, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid\n start_ms: 279040\n end_ms: 282410\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 282410\nplain: |-\n Welcome back, we're here on Bad Boy Television\n And I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper and quite frankly, he's very mad\n We're gonna try to find out why, so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience\n Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name and where you're from\n\n Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle\n And I just don't understand; why you so mad?\n Like, what are you so mad about?\n\n Yo, yo, yo-yo, y'know, yo you wanna know why?\n Yo first of all, you can't be askin' me no question, you know what I'm sayin'?\n Who the fuck is you? You know what I'm sayin'? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper)\n You can't be askin' me no question (It's a family oriented show)\n I'ma tell you why I'm mad, you know what I'm sayin'?\n I'ma tell you why I'm mad, I'ma tell you why I'm mad\n These niggas is makin' five hundred thousand dollar videos, you know sayin?\n They drivin' around in hot cars, you know I'm sayin?\n They got bitches, they got all that shit (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language)\n You know what I'm sayin'? I'm still livin' with my moms, you know what I'm sayin'?\n That's my word, You know I'm s-?\n I'm makin' records, I ain't made no money yet I done made-\n This is my fourth album yo, this my fourth album\n I ain't made a dime yet\n This nigga made one album, he makin' wild records\n That \"Ready to Die\" shit, it was aight, it was aight\n You know I'm sayin', that shit was aight, it was cool\n But my shit is J-more John Blaze than that\n I got John Blaze shit and they not resp-ecognising, they not sayin'\n \"I recognize\" And fuck is that, who is you to be askin' me questions\n You know what I'm sayin'? Who is you?\n\n I gots to talk\n I gotta tell what I feel\n I gotta talk about my life as I see it\n\n Biggie\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you\n\n Uhh, your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n Get in that ass quick, fast like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada, fuck Poppa\n You got to call me Francis M.H\n White, intake light tokes, tote iron\n Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'\n Keep extra clips for extra shit, who's next to\n Flip on that cat with that grip on rap?\n The most shady, (Tell 'em!) Frankie baby\n Ain't no telling where\n I may be, may see me in D.C\n At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone, dumbing\n Fucking something, you should know my steelo\n Went from ten Gs for blow to 30 Gs a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n So, Jesus, get off the Notorious'\n Penis before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us, we can settle it with the chrome\n And metal shit, I make it hot like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get - who sent ya?\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure\n Biggie (How are you gonna do it?)\n\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n\n On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get when you're marked for death\n Should I start your breath or should I let you die\n In fear you start to cry, ask why, lyrically\n I'm worshiped, don't front, the word sick\n You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit, you herbs get\n Stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n Don't forget the publishing, I punish 'em, I'm done with them\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them, I think they got\n Cum in them 'cause they nothing but dicks\n Trying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that's sick\n Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique\n Take trips to Cairo, laying with your bitch\n I know you praying you was rich, fucking prick, when I see ya I'ma\n\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four (Uh-huh)\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Uh, uh, uh)\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more (Biggie)\n Kick in the door, waving the four-four\n All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more\n\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the King of N-Y\n Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n Now ya brailling it, snatch that light shit, I'm scaling it\n Conscious of ya nonsense, in '88\n Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson\n Tote steel like Bronson, Vigilante\n You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings\n Nothing but my children, one shot they disappearing\n It's ill when MCs used to be on cruddy shit\n Took home Ready to Die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They light weight, fragili, my nine milli\n Make the whites shake, that's why my money never funny\n And you still recouping, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid\n"},{"id":32140788,"name":"Kick In The Door","trackName":"Kick In The Door","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Nirvana The Band The Show The Soundtrack","duration":286.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Biggie\nUh; uh-uh\nUh\n\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nThis goes out to you\nThis goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\nGet in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\nIts that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\nYou got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\nIn tank-light totes, tote iron\n\nWas told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\nKeep extra clips for extra shit\nWho's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\nThe mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\nAin't no tellin where I may be\nMay see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\nWith my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\nYou should know my steelo\n\nWent from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen before\nSo, jesus, get off the notorious\nPenis, before I squeeze and bust\n\nIf the beef between us, we can settle it\nWith the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot, like a kettle get\nYou're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\nYou still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\nBiggie, how are you gonna do it?\nDo it\n\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\nAll you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\nKick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\nOn ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\nShould I start your breath should I let you die\n\nIn fear you start to cry, ask why\nLyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\nYou cursed it, but rehearsed it\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\nYou herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\nDon't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them\nI think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\nTryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\nMad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\nGot pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\nTake trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\nI know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\nWhen I see ya I'ma\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the king of NY\n\nFuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\nNow ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\nConscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\nSold more powder than johnson and johnson\nTote steel like bronson, vigilante\nYou wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\nAin't no other king in this rap thing\nThey siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\nOne shot, they disappearin\nIts ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\nTook home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\nMake the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\nAnd you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)","syncedLyrics":"[01:12.28] Biggie\n[01:15.80] Uh; uh-uh\n[01:17.57] Uh\n[01:18.20] This goes out to you\n[01:21.04] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:26.51] This goes out to you\n[01:29.25] \n[01:31.91] This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n[01:36.08] Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n[01:38.30] As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n[01:41.45] Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n[01:43.65] Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n[01:46.75] You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n[01:49.75] In tank-light totes, tote iron\n[01:51.88] Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n[01:54.62] Keep extra clips for extra shit\n[01:56.52] Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n[01:59.43] The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n[02:01.78] Ain't no tellin where I may be\n[02:03.33] May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n[02:06.30] With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n[02:08.62] You should know my steelo\n[02:10.33] Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n[02:12.98] To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n[02:15.87] So, jesus, get off the notorious\n[02:18.85] Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n[02:21.19] If the beef between us, we can settle it\n[02:23.33] With the chrome and metal shit\n[02:24.77] I make it hot, like a kettle get\n[02:26.56] You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n[02:28.85] You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n[02:32.53] Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n[02:34.16] Do it\n[02:34.54] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:37.30] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:40.06] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:42.67] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:45.41] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:48.58] All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n[02:51.15] Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n[02:56.31] On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n[02:58.93] Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n[03:01.61] Should I start your breath should I let you die\n[03:03.97] In fear you start to cry, ask why\n[03:06.49] Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n[03:09.59] You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n[03:11.59] I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n[03:13.52] You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n[03:17.33] Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n[03:19.88] Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n[03:21.95] I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n[03:25.04] Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n[03:27.80] Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n[03:30.49] Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n[03:32.12] Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n[03:36.18] I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n[03:38.25] When I see ya I'ma\n[03:41.34] \n[04:00.32] This goes out for those that choose to use\n[04:02.61] Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n[04:05.02] Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n[04:07.69] Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n[04:10.57] Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n[04:13.45] Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n[04:15.94] Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n[04:18.61] You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n[04:21.15] Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n[04:23.30] They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n[04:25.28] One shot, they disappearin\n[04:27.26] Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n[04:29.29] Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n[04:31.74] Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n[04:34.59] They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n[04:37.02] Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n[04:39.95] And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n[04:43.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick In The Door\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: Nirvana The Band The Show The Soundtrack\n duration_ms: 286000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Biggie\n start_ms: 72280\n end_ms: 75800\n- text: Uh; uh-uh\n start_ms: 75800\n end_ms: 77570\n- text: Uh\n start_ms: 77570\n end_ms: 78200\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 78200\n end_ms: 81040\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 81040\n end_ms: 86510\n- text: This goes out to you\n start_ms: 86510\n end_ms: 89250\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 89250\n end_ms: 91910\n- text: This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n start_ms: 91910\n end_ms: 96080\n- text: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n start_ms: 96080\n end_ms: 98300\n- text: As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n start_ms: 98300\n end_ms: 101450\n- text: Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n start_ms: 101450\n end_ms: 103650\n- text: Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n start_ms: 103650\n end_ms: 106750\n- text: You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n start_ms: 106750\n end_ms: 109750\n- text: In tank-light totes, tote iron\n start_ms: 109750\n end_ms: 111880\n- text: Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n start_ms: 111880\n end_ms: 114620\n- text: Keep extra clips for extra shit\n start_ms: 114620\n end_ms: 116520\n- text: Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n start_ms: 116520\n end_ms: 119430\n- text: The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n start_ms: 119430\n end_ms: 121780\n- text: Ain't no tellin where I may be\n start_ms: 121780\n end_ms: 123330\n- text: May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n start_ms: 123330\n end_ms: 126300\n- text: With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n start_ms: 126300\n end_ms: 128620\n- text: You should know my steelo\n start_ms: 128620\n end_ms: 130330\n- text: Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n start_ms: 130330\n end_ms: 132980\n- text: To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n start_ms: 132980\n end_ms: 135870\n- text: So, jesus, get off the notorious\n start_ms: 135870\n end_ms: 138850\n- text: Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n start_ms: 138850\n end_ms: 141190\n- text: If the beef between us, we can settle it\n start_ms: 141190\n end_ms: 143330\n- text: With the chrome and metal shit\n start_ms: 143330\n end_ms: 144770\n- text: I make it hot, like a kettle get\n start_ms: 144770\n end_ms: 146560\n- text: You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n start_ms: 146560\n end_ms: 148850\n- text: You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n start_ms: 148850\n end_ms: 152530\n- text: Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n start_ms: 152530\n end_ms: 154160\n- text: Do it\n start_ms: 154160\n end_ms: 154540\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 154540\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 160060\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 160060\n end_ms: 162670\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 162670\n end_ms: 165410\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 165410\n end_ms: 168580\n- text: All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n start_ms: 168580\n end_ms: 171150\n- text: Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n start_ms: 171150\n end_ms: 176310\n- text: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n start_ms: 176310\n end_ms: 178930\n- text: Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n start_ms: 178930\n end_ms: 181610\n- text: Should I start your breath should I let you die\n start_ms: 181610\n end_ms: 183970\n- text: In fear you start to cry, ask why\n start_ms: 183970\n end_ms: 186490\n- text: Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n start_ms: 186490\n end_ms: 189590\n- text: You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n start_ms: 189590\n end_ms: 191590\n- text: I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n start_ms: 191590\n end_ms: 193520\n- text: You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n start_ms: 193520\n end_ms: 197330\n- text: Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n start_ms: 197330\n end_ms: 199880\n- text: Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n start_ms: 199880\n end_ms: 201950\n- text: I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n start_ms: 201950\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 207800\n- text: Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n start_ms: 207800\n end_ms: 210490\n- text: Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n start_ms: 210490\n end_ms: 212120\n- text: Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n start_ms: 212120\n end_ms: 216180\n- text: I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n start_ms: 216180\n end_ms: 218250\n- text: When I see ya I'ma\n start_ms: 218250\n end_ms: 221340\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 221340\n end_ms: 240320\n- text: This goes out for those that choose to use\n start_ms: 240320\n end_ms: 242610\n- text: Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n start_ms: 242610\n end_ms: 245020\n- text: Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n start_ms: 245020\n end_ms: 247690\n- text: Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n start_ms: 247690\n end_ms: 250570\n- text: Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n start_ms: 250570\n end_ms: 253450\n- text: Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n start_ms: 253450\n end_ms: 255940\n- text: Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n start_ms: 255940\n end_ms: 258610\n- text: You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n start_ms: 258610\n end_ms: 261150\n- text: Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n start_ms: 261150\n end_ms: 263300\n- text: They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n start_ms: 263300\n end_ms: 265280\n- text: One shot, they disappearin\n start_ms: 265280\n end_ms: 267260\n- text: Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n start_ms: 267260\n end_ms: 269290\n- text: Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n start_ms: 269290\n end_ms: 271740\n- text: Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n start_ms: 271740\n end_ms: 274590\n- text: They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n start_ms: 274590\n end_ms: 277020\n- text: Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n start_ms: 277020\n end_ms: 279950\n- text: And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n start_ms: 279950\n end_ms: 283010\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 283010\nplain: |-\n Biggie\n Uh; uh-uh\n Uh\n\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n This goes out to you\n This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you (Biggie)\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons\n Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan\n\n Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa\n You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white\n In tank-light totes, tote iron\n\n Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin\n Keep extra clips for extra shit\n Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n The mo shady, tell em!, Frankie baby\n\n Ain't no tellin where I may be\n May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin\n With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin\n You should know my steelo\n\n Went from ten g's for blow to thirty g's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen before\n So, jesus, get off the notorious\n Penis, before I squeeze and bust\n\n If the beef between us, we can settle it\n With the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot, like a kettle get\n You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya?\n\n You still pedal shit, I got more rides than great adventure\n Biggie, how are you gonna do it?\n Do it\n\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n All you heard was poppa don't hit me no more\n Kick in the door, wavin the four-four\n\n On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death\n\n Should I start your breath should I let you die\n\n In fear you start to cry, ask why\n Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick\n You cursed it, but rehearsed it\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n\n You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money\n Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them\n I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks\n\n Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks\n Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick\n Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click\n Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch\n\n I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick\n When I see ya I'ma\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the king of NY\n\n Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye\n Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it\n Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n Sold more powder than johnson and johnson\n Tote steel like bronson, vigilante\n You wanna get on son, you need to ask me\n\n Ain't no other king in this rap thing\n They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren\n One shot, they disappearin\n Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit\n\n Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly\n Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny\n\n And you still recoupin, stupid (stupid, stupid, stupid)\n"},{"id":16129097,"name":"Kick In the Door (Soundtrack Version)","trackName":"Kick In the Door (Soundtrack Version)","artistName":"The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"Notorious (Music from and Inspired By the Original Motion Picture)","duration":215.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Biggie!)\nUh!\nUh-huh!\nUh, this goes out to (Biggie!) you...\nThis goes out to you!\nAnd you! And you (Biggie!) And you!\nThis goes out to you!\nThis goes out to (Biggie!) you!\nThis goes out to you!\nAnd you! And you! Uh!\nYour reign on the top was short like leprechauns\nAs I crush so-called Willies, thugs, and rapper-dons. (uh!)\nGet in that ass, quick fast, like Ramadan\nIt's that rap phenomenon, Don-Dadda!\nFuck Poppa! - You gotto - call me Francis M.H.\nWhite in tank-light totes! - Tote iron!\nWas told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin'\nKeep extra clips for extra shit. (uh-huh!)\nWho's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\nThe most shady! (Tell em!) - Frankie baby!\nAin't no tellin' where I may be,\nMay see me - in D.C. at Howard Homecomin'\nWith my man Capone, dumbin',\nFuckin somethin'! - You should know my steelo\nWent from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show\nTo orgies with hoes I never seen befo',\nSo - Jesus, get off the Notorious'\nPenis; before I squeeze and bust\nIf the beef between us - we can settle it\nWith the chrome and metal shit\nI make it hot - like a kettle get!\nYou're delicate, you better get,\nWho sent ya? - You still pedal shit!\nI got more rides than Great Adventure! - Biggie! (\"How are you gonna do it? \")\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\nAll you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\nAll you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\nAll you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \" (Biggie!)\nKick in the door; wavin' the .four-four! (uh-huh!)\nAll you heard was: (uh!) \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\nOn ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\nLook how dark it get, when ya marked with death. (uh!)\nShould I start your breath should I let you die\nIn fear you start to cry, ask: \"Why? \"\nLyrically, I'm worser! - Don't front the word sick\nYou cursed it - but rehearsed it!\nI drop unexpectedly like bird shit\nYou herbs get! - Stuck quickly for royalties and show money!\nDon't forget the publishin - I punish 'em (uh!) I'm done with them (uh-huh!)\nSon, I'm surprised you run with them!\nI think they got come in them! - Cause they - nothin' but dicks\nTryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks!\nMad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick!\nGot pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click!\nTake trips to Cairo, layin' with yo bitch\nI know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick! - When I see ya I'm a...\nThis goes out for those that choose to use\nDisrespectful views on the \"King Of NY\".\nFuck that! - Why try? Throw bleach in your eye!\nNow ya Braille in it! - Stash that light shit - or scalin' it!\nConscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\nSold more powder than - Johnson and Johnson!\nTote steel like Bronson. - vigilante!\nYou wanna get on son. - You need to ask me!\nAin't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings,\nNothing but my chil'ren; one shot, they disappearin'! (uh!)\nIt's I'll when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit,\nTook home! - +Ready To Die+, listened, studied shit!\nNow they on some money shit, successful out the blue\nThey light weight. - Fragilly, my .9 milly, make the white shake! That's why my money never funny! And you still recoupin'! - Stupid!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Kick In the Door (Soundtrack Version)\n artist: The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: Notorious (Music from and Inspired By the Original Motion Picture)\n duration_ms: 215000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n (Biggie!)\n Uh!\n Uh-huh!\n Uh, this goes out to (Biggie!) you...\n This goes out to you!\n And you! And you (Biggie!) And you!\n This goes out to you!\n This goes out to (Biggie!) you!\n This goes out to you!\n And you! And you! Uh!\n Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns\n As I crush so-called Willies, thugs, and rapper-dons. (uh!)\n Get in that ass, quick fast, like Ramadan\n It's that rap phenomenon, Don-Dadda!\n Fuck Poppa! - You gotto - call me Francis M.H.\n White in tank-light totes! - Tote iron!\n Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin'\n Keep extra clips for extra shit. (uh-huh!)\n Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap\n The most shady! (Tell em!) - Frankie baby!\n Ain't no tellin' where I may be,\n May see me - in D.C. at Howard Homecomin'\n With my man Capone, dumbin',\n Fuckin somethin'! - You should know my steelo\n Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show\n To orgies with hoes I never seen befo',\n So - Jesus, get off the Notorious'\n Penis; before I squeeze and bust\n If the beef between us - we can settle it\n With the chrome and metal shit\n I make it hot - like a kettle get!\n You're delicate, you better get,\n Who sent ya? - You still pedal shit!\n I got more rides than Great Adventure! - Biggie! (\"How are you gonna do it? \")\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four!\n All you heard was: \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \" (Biggie!)\n Kick in the door; wavin' the .four-four! (uh-huh!)\n All you heard was: (uh!) \"Poppa don't hit me no more! \"\n On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet\n Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death. (uh!)\n Should I start your breath should I let you die\n In fear you start to cry, ask: \"Why? \"\n Lyrically, I'm worser! - Don't front the word sick\n You cursed it - but rehearsed it!\n I drop unexpectedly like bird shit\n You herbs get! - Stuck quickly for royalties and show money!\n Don't forget the publishin - I punish 'em (uh!) I'm done with them (uh-huh!)\n Son, I'm surprised you run with them!\n I think they got come in them! - Cause they - nothin' but dicks\n Tryna blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks!\n Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick!\n Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click!\n Take trips to Cairo, layin' with yo bitch\n I know you prayin' you was rich, fuckin' prick! - When I see ya I'm a...\n This goes out for those that choose to use\n Disrespectful views on the \"King Of NY\".\n Fuck that! - Why try? Throw bleach in your eye!\n Now ya Braille in it! - Stash that light shit - or scalin' it!\n Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight\n Sold more powder than - Johnson and Johnson!\n Tote steel like Bronson. - vigilante!\n You wanna get on son. - You need to ask me!\n Ain't no other kings in this rap thing, they siblings,\n Nothing but my chil'ren; one shot, they disappearin'! (uh!)\n It's I'll when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit,\n Took home! - +Ready To Die+, listened, studied shit!\n Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue\n They light weight. - Fragilly, my .9 milly, make the white shake! That's why my money never funny! And you still recoupin'! - Stupid!\n"}]