Charted: 1997 
Peaked at #1 (2 weeks)
Bad Boy -- 79100
Written by C. Wallace / S. Combs / S. Jordan / M. Betha / B. Edwards / N. Rodgers
From the album "Life After Death"
Samples "I'm Coming Out" by Diana Ross
B-Side "Mo Money Mo Problems" (Instrumental)
Cassette -- 4:12
Now, who's hot, who not Tell me who rock, who sell out in the stores You tell me who flopped, who copped the blue drop Whose jewels got robbed, who's mostly Goldie down To the tube sock, the same ol' pimp Mase, you know ain't nuttin change but my limp Can't stop 'til I see my name on a blimp Guarantee a million sales, pullin' all the love You don't believe in Harlem world, nigga double up We don't play around, it's a bet, lay it down Nigga didn't know me ninety-one, bet they know me now I'm the young Harlem nigga with the Goldie sound Can't no Ph.D. niggaz hold me down, Cooter Schooled me to the game, now I know my duty Stay humble, stay low, blow like Hootie True pimp niggaz spend no dough on the booty And then ya yell, there go Mase, there go your cutie
Chorus: I don't know what they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see I don't know what they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see
Yeah, yeah, aha, aha, from the D-to-the-A-to-the-D-D-Y Know you'd rather see me die than to see me fly I call all the shots Rip all the spots, rock all the rocks Cop all the drops, I know you thinkin' now's When all the ballin' stops, nigga never Home, gotta call me on the yacht Ten years from now, we'll still be on top Yo, I thought I told you that we won't stop Now whatcha gonna do when it's cool Bag a money much longer than yours And a team much stronger than yours, violate me This'll be your day, we don't play Mess around, be D.O.A., be on your way 'Cause, it ain't enough time here, ain't enough lime here For you to shine here, deal with many women But, treat dimes fair, and I'm Bigger than the city lights down in Times Square Yeah, yeah, yeah
Chorus
Uh, uh B.I.G., P-O, P-P-A No info for the DEA Federal agents mad, 'cause I'm flagrant Tap my cell, and the phone in the basement My team supreme, stay clean Triple beam, lyrical dream, I be that Cat, you see at all events, bent Gats in holsters, girls on shoulders Playboy, I told ya, bein' nice to me Bruise too much, I lose too much Step on stage, the girls boo too much I guess it's 'cause you run with lame dudes too much Me lose my touch, never that If I did, ain't no problem to get the gat Where the true players at Throw your Rollies in the sky Wave 'em side to side and keep your hands high While I give your girl the eye, player please Lyrically, niggaz see, B.I.G. Be flossin' jig on the cover of Fortune Five double o, here's my phone number Your man ain't got to know, I got to go Got the flow down pizat, platinum plus Like thizat, dangerous On trizack, leave your ass blizzack
Chorus
I don't know what they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see What's goin' on, what's goin' on
Chorus
I don't know what they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see