The What (Unreleased Version) Notorious B.I.G. Ft. Method Man

This is an unreleased original version of The What by Biggie featuring Method Man. The opening is completely different and part of B.I.G.'s later verse is different. You might recognize the first part of the opening as part of Biggie's freestyle "The Wickedest" with Mr. Cee, but there is one word changed ("take" changed to "grab"). I haven't heard any of the rest of B.I.G.'s lines in any other songs, but if anyone else has, I'd like to hear about it. This song was taken from the O.G. Edition of Ready to Die dropped by The Mixtape Marvel. Lyrics: [B.I.G.] All it's takin is some marijuana and I'm makin MCs break fast like flapjacks and bacon Back spins the windmills. Who's still the gin drinker? Ill thinker explodin when the paper hits the ink Grab your gangster chronicles and turn to page 6-6-6- The holocaust, B.I.G. the merciless Hurry up and close the gate when my freestyle escapes I'm giving young minds statutory rape Mothafuckers thought I slip bust my lip, right You didn't know the extra clip's on my hip You don't want none of me N-O-N-A-M-E-(T-H-O-D Man) Don't tempt me, you don't wanna fuck with Biggie [Method Man] Here I am, I'll be damned if this ain't some shit Come to spread the butter lyrics over hominy grit It's the low killer death trap, yes I'm a jet black ninja Comin where you rest at, surrender Step inside the ring, youse the number one contender Lookin cold booty like your pussy in December Nigga stop bitchin, button up ya lip and From Method all you gettin is a can of ass-whippin Hey, I'll be kickin, you son, you doin all the yappin Actin as if it can't happen You front and got me mad enough to touch somethin Yo I'm from Shaolin, Island, and ain't afraid to bust somethin So what cha want nigga, ya punk nigga I got a six-shooter and a horse named Trigger It's real, ninety-four, rugged raw Kickin down your god damn door (and it goes a lil somethin like this) [Chorus] Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit And everything you get ya gotta work hard fot it Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop And niggaz pack the clips, keep on [Method Man] Verse two, comin with that Olde E brew Meth-tical, puttin niggaz back in I.C.U. I'm lifted troop, you can bring yours wack ass crew I got connections, I'll get that ass stuck like glue, huh No question, I be comin down and shit Yo I gets rugged as a motherfuckin carpet get And niggaz love it, not in the physical form but in the mental I spark and they cells get warm I'm not a gentle, man, I'm a Method, Man! Baby accept it, utmost respect it (Assume the position) Stop look and listen I spit on your grave then I grab my Charles Dickens [B.I.G.] Welcome to my center Honies feel it deep in they placenta Cold as the pole in the winter Ricochet off the vertebrae then splat where your heart be at Now starts the cardiac arrest Where's your vest? You forgot now you slowly drop cuz your heart stopped Beaten, your bitch-ass crew is retreatin Niggas left you, fucked up passed out with your ass out pockets ran through stripped with your brains bashed out Niggas wanna do me slugs just run through me Like trees to branches Cliffs to avalanches It's the praying mantis Deep like the mind of Farrakhan A motherfuckin rap phenomenon, plus (I got more glocks and techs than you) I make it hot (Nigga won't even stand next to you) Nigga touch me you better bust me tree times in the head Or motherfucker's dead, ya thought so [Chorus x2]