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4:35 | ||||
from Jay-Z - Reasonable Doubt (1996)
[Pain In Da Ass]
[*gunshots*] OKAY, I'M RELOADED!!! You motherfuckers, think you big time? Fuckin with Jay-Z, you gon' die, big time! Here come the "Pain"! [*gunshots*] [Jay-Z] Jigga... (Jigga), Bigga... (Bigga) Nigga, how you figure... (how you figure) Yeah, yeah, yeah, aiyyo Peep the style and the way the cops sweat us (uh-huh) The number one question is can the Feds get us (uh-huh) I got vendettas in dice games against ass betters (uh-huh) and niggaz who pump wheels and drive Jettas Take that witcha.. [Notorious B.I.G.] .. hit ya, back split ya Fuck fist fights and lame scuffles Pillow case to your face, make the shell muffle Shoot your daughter in the calf muscle Fuck a tussle, nickel-plated Sprinkle coke on the floor, make it drug related Most hate it.. [Jay-Z] .. can't fade it While y'all pump Willie, I run up in stunts silly Scared, so you sent your little mans to come kill me But on the contrilli, I packs the mack-milli Squeezed off on him, left them paramedics breathin soft on him What's ya name? [Notorious B.I.G.] .. Who shot ya? Mob ties like Sinatra Peruvians tried to do me in, I ain't paid them yet Tryin to push 700's, they ain't made them yet Rolex and bracelets is frostbit; rings too Niggaz 'round the way call me Igloo Stix (Who?) Motherfucker! [Chorus] Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers (Where you from?) Brooklyn, goin out for all Marcy - that's right - you don't stop Bed-Stuy.. you won't stop, nigga! [Jay-Z] What, what, what? Jay-Z, Big' Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers Brooklyn represent y'all, hit you fold You crazy, think your little bit of rhymes can play me? I'm from Marcy, I'm varsity, chump, you're JV (Jigga) Jay-Z [Notorious B.I.G.] .. and Bigga baby! My Bed-Stuy flow's malicious, delicious Fuck three wishes, made my road to riches from 62's, gem stars, my moms dishes Gram choppin, police van dockin D's at my doors knockin [Jay-Z] What? Keep rockin No more, Mister, Nice Guy, I twist your shit the fuck back with them pistols, blazin Hot like cajun Hotter than even holdin work at the Days Inn with New York plates outside Get up outta there, fuck your ride [Notorious B.I.G.] Keep your hands high, shit gets steeper Here comes the Grim Reaper, Frank Wright Leave the keys to your In-tegra (That's right) Chill homie, the bitch in the Shoney's told me You're holdin more drugs than a pharmacy, you ain't harmin me So pardon me, pass the safe, before I blaze the place and here's six shots just in case (Brooklyn... Brooklyn... Brooklyn...) [Chorus] Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers (Where you from?) Brooklyn goin out to all (Crown Heights...) You don't stop (Brownsville...) You won't stop, nigga! (Brooklyn... Brooklyn... Brooklyn...) Hah hah! Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers (Where we from?) Brooklyn goin out to all (Bushwick...) You don't stop (Fort Greene...) You won't stop, niggaz! [Jay-Z] Yeah, yeah, yeah For nine six, the only MC with a flu Yeah I rhyme sick, I be what you're tryin to do Made a fortune off Peru, extradite, china white heron Nigga please, like short sleeves I bear arms Stay out my way from here on (CLEAR?) Gone! [Notoriuos B.I.G.] Me and Gutter had two spots The two for five dollar hits, the blue tops Gotta go, Coolio mean it's gettin "Too Hot" If Fay' had twins, she'd probably have two-Pac's Get it? .. Tu-pac's [Jay-Z] Time to separate the pros from the cons The platinum from the bronze That butter soft shit from that leather on the Fonz A S1 diamond from a eye class don A Cham' Dom' sipper from a Rosay nigga, huh?! Brook-Nam, sippin on [Notorious B.I.G.] Cristal forever, play the crib when it's mink weather The M.A.F.I.A. keep canons in they Marc Buchanans Usually cuatro cinco, the shell sink slow, tossin ya Mad slugs through your Nautica, I'm warnin ya (Hah, what the fuck?) [Chorus] Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers (Where you from?) Brooklyn goin out to all (Flatbush...) You don't stop (Redhook...) You won't stop, nigga! (Brooklyn... Brooklyn... Brooklyn...) Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers (Where you from?) Brooklyn goin out to all (East New York...) You don't stop (Clinton Hill...) You won't stop, nigga! {*"Is Brooklyn in the house?"*} [Outro] Uhh, Roc-A-Fella, y'all, Junior M.A.F.I.A. Superbad click, Brook-lyn's Finest, you re-wind this Represetin BK to the fullest |
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4:12 | ||||
from Jay-Z - The Blueprint 2 : The Gift & The Curse (2002)
It was all a dream
{*scratched simultaneously: "It was all a dream" - B.I.G.*} Last night I had a dream Thoughts was racin through my head (it was all a dream) Felt so real to me This is what was said.. Had a dream I said, bout who he said? Bout B.I.G. I said, that's big he said Dig he said, proceed he said Indeed I said, so - breathe I did Don't repeat what I say I said, he said nothin He agreed with his head, he just nodded like this What I believe to be a yes I re-peated what was said It came to me like a .. well as even I said "You feel playboy," was the greeting he said First thing I wanted to know, what's the reason he was dead? "More money, more problems, better believe it," he said "Careful what you wish for you might receive it," he said I see I said, jealousy I said Got the whole industry mad at me I said Then B.I. said, "Hov' remind yourself nobody built like you, you designed yourself" I agree I said, my one of a kind self Get stoned every day like Jesus did What he said, I said, has been said before "Just keep doin your thing," he said, say no more *Was it all a dream - tell me Was it all a dream, was it a dream Was it all a dre-eeee-eeeee-eeam I gotta know {*"It was all a dream"*} Was it all a dream - was it a dream Was it all a dream, a dream Was it all a dre-eeee-eeeee-eeam It was all a dream, I used to read Word Up magazine Salt'n'Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine Hangin pictures on my wall Every Saturday, "Rap Attack," Mr. Magic, Marley Marl I let my tape rock 'til my tape popped Smokin weed and bamboo, sippin on private stock Way back, when I had the red and black lumberjack with the hat to match Remember Rappin' Duke? "Duh-ha, duh-ha" You never thought that hip-hop would take it this far Now I'm in the limelight cause I rhyme tight Time to get paid, blow up like the {**"World Trade"**} Born sinner, the opposite of a winner Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner Peace to Ron G, Brucey B, Kid Capri Funkmaster Flex, Lovebug Starsky I'm blowin up like you thought I would Call the crib, same number same hood, it's all good Uhh, and if you don't know, now you know, nigga *repeat {*"It was all a dream"*} {*"It was all.."*} {*"It was all.. a dream"*} {*"It was all a dream"*} {*"It was all.. a dream"*} {*"It was all.."*} {*"It was all.. a dream"*} I see I said, jealousy I said Got the whole industry mad at me I said Then B.I. said, "Hov' remind yourself nobody built like you, you designed yourself" I agree I said, my one of a kind self Get stoned every day like Jesus did What he said, I said, has been said before "Just keep doin your thing," he said, say no more |
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1:28 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
B.I.G. interview intro)
Ten years from now, where do I want to be? I wanne be...just livin man, just living comfortably with my niggas man in a pool and shit, smoking plenty indo you know i'm saying? I got my wife, just lounging with my wife you know i'm saying? with my daughter, her daughter, you know just laid back, just chillin, you know i'm saying? living all my niggas is living where I think I be? ten years I don't think I will see it for real dog for real man, that shit ain't promised man I don't think my luck is that good, I hope it is but if it ain't, so be it, I'm ready (your dead wrong) [Erie B.I.G.chant] [Repeat til fade out] The weaker the strong, you got it going on, your dead wrong.... |
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3:12 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Notorious B.I.G.] Yo, check it Call Lil' Cease Tell that
muh'fucker to bring me some muh'fuckin weed for this hospital man fuck that Tell that reporter to go pick up ten thousand from Dez and go take about like twenty G's from Gino Tell that muh'fucker get this nigga next door up out of here Nigga be snorin all night I can't sleep (hehe) Call that big butt nurse with the long hair to come suck my dick (Bad Boy Big, c'mon) The doctor said I need about three weeks of recovery but the nurses is lovin me Sayin the best part of the day is my half Feedin me breakfast, and givin me a sponge bath Niggaz say I died dead in the streets Nigga I'm gettin high, gettin head on the beach Chillin, sittin on about half a million With all my niggaz, all my guns, all my women Next two years, I should see about a billion All for the love of drug dealin Got no love for the other side, fuck them tricks (fuck them) Any repercussion, Junior M.A.F.I.A. spit clips (that's right) All the time, Big Poppa kick the war rhymes Raw flows, and that's how it goes [Puff Daddy] NOTORIOUS! C'mon.. we are, we are NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! He is.. he is.. NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! This for my niggaz slingin thangs, had my ring encaged Truck, necklace, igloo ring and things For the bitches, who see them rims spin and grin That shit with the V-trim that win and the enormous fields disperse of rap On the road to the riches more furs to drag More niggaz to kill, than birds to bag Hit the jeweler and splurge the tab, uh Hops, out the truck like, "Trick, what up?" Call me Sean if you suck, call me gone when I nut That's the end of us, get your friend to fuck Untwist and bend her up, you know the deal Niggaz talkin real greasy on some ballin shit (that's right) Funny how quick these pricks forget Actin like I ain't the reason they traded they shit Switched that 5, copped that 6 (that's right) It's all good, you know who the clone is Fuck the Joneses, niggaz tryin to keep up with the Combses [Puff Daddy] C'mon y'all.. NOTORIOUS! We are, we are .. (what's his name) NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! He is, he is.. (c'mon, what's his name?) NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! [Lil' Kim] Who that queen bitch, keep her glass filled to the rim? The Notorious K-I to the M That's me, on MTV, no doubt Titty out like what - I don't give a fuck! Y'all know my attitude, can't stand my cologne Then stay your ass home, you and your chaperone Things done changed, but we continue to reign as the King and the Queen of hip-hop, me and B.I. Frank White still listen to all the (a)'ttention I'm by his side, with the chrome fifth, playin my position Sexy, young thing, from the ghetto That bitch rockin mics in high heel stilletos We takin over like Francis Switchin our styles like the hottest new dancers See, I let y'all live to stack a LITTLE paper Be glad I pushed my album back, I did y'all hoes a favor! [Puff Daddy] She did you a favor, c'mon now, yeah NOTORIOUS! NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! He is, he is.. (c'mon, what's his name?) Bad Boy baby, D.R. c'mon NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! We are, we are .. Queen Bee baby, we are, c'mon NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! He is, he is.. (B.I.G. baby, he is c'mon) NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! We are, we are .. Bad Boy 2000 NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! B.I.G. Born Again (he is.. he is..) and he won't stop NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! cause he can't stop, yeah, uh-huh We are, we are.. (Brooklyn baby) NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS! He is, he is.. |
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4:57 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Puff] Bad Boy baby [Big] Yeah.. yeah.. Junior M.A.F.I.A.,
yeah.. [Puff] Yeah.. B.I.G. 2000 B.I.G. 2000 Born Again.. c'mon.. Chorus: Notorious B.I.G. The weak or the strong, who got it goin on You're dead wrong The weak or the strong, who got it goin on You're dead wrong [Notorious B.I.G.] Relax and take notes, while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke Throw you in a choke - gun smoke, gun smoke Biggie Smalls for mayor, the rap slayer The hooker layer - motherfucker say your prayers Hail Mary full of grace.. smack the bitch in the face; take her Gucci bag and the North Face off her back, jab her if she act funny with the money oh you got me mistaken honey I don't wanna rape ya, I just want the paper The Visa, kapeesha? I'm out like, "The Vapors" Who's the one you call Mr. Macho, the head honcho Swift fist like Camacho, I got so much style I should be down wit the Stylistics Make up to break up {*singing in background*} niggaz need to wake up Smell the indonesia; beat you to a seizure Then fuck your moms, hit the skins til amnesia She don't remember shit! Just the two hits! Her hittin the floor, and me hittin the clits! Suckin on the tits! Had the hooker beggin for the dick And your moms ain't ugly love; my dick got rock quick I guess I was a combination of House of Pain and Bobby Brown I was "Humpin Around" and "Jump-in Around" Jacked her then I asked her who's the man; she said, "B-I-G" Then I bust in her E-Y-E (Yo Big, you're dead wrong) Chorus 2X + "I don't care what nobody say" sample (4X at start) [Notorious B.I.G.] When I get dusted, I like to spread the blood like mustard Trust it, my hardcore rain leaves you rusted Move over Lucifer, I'm more ruthless, huh Leave your toothless, you'll kibbitz, I'll flip it Tears don't affect me, I hit 'em with the tech G Disrespect me - my potency is deadly I'm shootin babies, no ifs ands or maybes Hit mummy in the tummy if the hooker plays a dummy Slit the wrist of little sis After she sucked the dick, I stabbed her brother with the icepick because he wanted me to fuck him from the back but Smalls don't get down like that Got your father hidin in a room; fucked him with the broom Slit him down the back and threw salt in the wound Who you think you're dealin with? Anybody step into my path is fuckin feelin it! Hardcore, I got it sucked like a pussy Stab ya til you're gushy, so please don't push.. me I'm using rubbers so they won't trace the semen The black demon, got the little hookers screamin Because you know I love it young, fresh and green with no hair in between, know what I mean? Chorus 2X + "I don't care what nobody say" sample (4X at start) [Puff] Ladies and gentlemen.. [Eminem] There's several different levels to Devil worshippin: horse's heads, human sacrifices, canibalism; candles and exorcism Animals havin sex with 'em; camels mammals and rabbits But I don't get into that, I kick the habit - I just, beat you to death with weapons that eat through the flesh And I never eat you unless the fuckin, meat looks fresh I got a lion in my pocket, I'm lyin, I got a nine in my pocket and baby I'm just, dyin to cock him He's ready for war, I'm ready for war I got machetes and swords for any faggot that said he was raw My uz' as, heavy as yours, yeah you met me before I just didn't have as large an arsenal of weapons before Marshall will step in the door, I lay your head on the floor With your body spread on the bedspread, red on the wall red on the ceilin, red on the floor, get a new whore Met on the second, wet on the third; then she's dead on the fourth - I'm dead wrong Chorus 2X + "I don't care what nobody say" sample (4X at start) Chorus repeats to fade.. [Puff Daddy] Uh-huh, and we won't stop, because we can't stop |
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4:10 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Biggie]
Check the pain I inflict, like a convict, the Fulton digger Jump in the Acura Vigor, after I stick ya Rip ya like a razor, straight up Henny with no chaser Watch me erase ya, misplace ya Put you in the back with the derelicts Yeah, I pop plenty shit Chump, I'm making hits No time for the crack rock and shit Took it to another level Now I'm getting crazy papes, getting paid from the devils Another amateur trying to damage the pedigree Of the B-I-G-G-I-E, you know it's me Hoes I thought you know I'm smooth as a babies ass Smooth as Teeddy Pendegrass, smoke the grass, get in your ass The Brooklyn born Teflon don, wrecking shop Getting props, proving nobody drops Words as potent as the blunt smoking Bed-Stuy bandit And niggas just can't understand it I bust a cap for the brothers in Nap Nap, Comstock, and Clinton You know my shit is hitting Yeah ya'll a fly nigga, Biggie Smalls Kicking flavor, make a nigga wanna dig up in they drawers For the burner, catch a body I got styles like karate Jujitsu, when I hit you then I split you Like a cantaloupe Hope you got a rope to hang yourself I rob for self, from Brooklyn, where else Fat like a Lexus coupe, I'll rip your troop Not even Lois Lnae could get the scoop What you think I'm stupid My crew is mad deep I hope you niggas sleep [B.G.] I throw a bomb through you window Burn you up and your hoe I catch your mama going to therapy And cut her throat You lil' sister walking home from school I abduct her, then I fuck her I hit ya park close up with the Louisville Slugger BGeezy is the hustla, ignorant motherfucker I was taught how to bust heads by the best head busters Cluckers, you know I got'em 2 for 1 my nigga I'm on V.L. if you want me, get some my nigga, come on [Big Tymer] Thuggin is my thing, if I'm beefing I'm banginhg Slanging, it's in my nature, gotta be about my paper Haters, I don't like'em, bitches, I don't trust'em Niggas, I can't stand'em, I creep down and pluck'em Strap say in my hand, I gotta protect mine Niggas trying to pull it off, pop goes the nine That's how it gotta be in these uptown streets And a nigga like me, I play the game for keep [Juvenile] I remember when niggaz slang heroin up in balloons I paid attention to everything , from killings to cartoons Got a picture of Malcolm X on the wall in my room Bitch Want some more nigga, fuck with me I'ma doom shit Nigga give me dope, I accept it, but don't respect him Put my foot in they rectum right after I dome check 'em I be popping D, smoking weed, and full of that Hennesey Fresh off the streets on my way to the penitentiary Everybody whisper in ears when they gone mention me I been out doing it for years, since elementary Real good relationship with guns and drugs Because my whole neighborhood consist of crook and thugs Everything is my own shit cause I don't fuck with scrubs I don't need you harassing me when I'm up in the club Trying to hustle a nigga, asking me for a dub Quarter, ki's, and halfs is what I sling, cause that's what I love [Turk] I know you bitches know that I ain't to be played with Dont have no picks and chooses who get they head split They die quick, fuckin' with Turk, wodie get whacked Spend a bin with Kevin and Randy leave ya flat on you back and trust that, ain't bout to let no nigga steal me Fuck that, I bust back with 223 Big and full of that raw with no cut and be ready to creep Innocent people move 'cause somebody fix'n to get split [Lil' Wayne] Na, Na, it's iceberg shorty, Lordy have mercy Come from under my shirts and flip'em and reverse'em I'm coming so alert them (Ur, Ur) fore I hurt them, desert eagle bursting You haven't seen the worst and I'm right near you and my gun blast quick, dog Could kill you so run, dash, get gone Wodies movin slow around this time they got bricks dog I ain't got bricks dog, nigga break it off, what [Puff Daddy] Un huh, B.I.G. with the Cash Money Millionaires, forever Juvenile, Lil' Wayne, Baby, Turk, B.G., Manny Fresh Slim, CEO, and me P. Diddy, B.I.G, Born Again And we won't stop, get money niggas |
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5:15 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Notorious B.I.G.]
Yeah, ninety-six, for my Nordstrom Ave niggaz My Fulton Street niggaz (hardcore for ninety-six) Dangerous MC's.. Uhh (check it out) uhh Diamonds on my neck, chrome drop-top Chillin on the scene, smokin pounds of green Oooh-wee, you see, the ugliest Money-hungriest, Brooklyn Loch Ness Nine millimeter cock test, wan fi' test? And the winner is.. [Busta Rhymes] Y'all niggaz know the rules I blast on niggaz so -- [Notorious B.I.G.] -- my fist never bruise Land-still-cruise, Frank White paid his dues Ask who's the raw, bet they say Poppa very Look forward to me like commissary All of a sudden, now every-body Big Willie Done did it, come widdit, get yo' head splitted or get your neck slitted, admit it, you overdid it Your shit it, just ain't got that LOUD Gold tooth shine like TA-DOW! Biggie Smalls the illest and how, frays raise your eyebrow By now you figure, he talkin bout that nigga but your weak-ass assumptions, lead led to dumpin IV to pump-in, you're feeling something Catch my drift, or catch my four-fifth lift at least six inches, above project fences Turn meat to minces, jokes turn to flinches When I rain I drenches, cleared your park benches (HAH) Missed you by pinches (HOO) your talk is senseless (RRUFF) Actor needs chiropractor (HAH, HOO) for cracked jaw Yes I rocked your cheddar box (hah) Dangerous you're not I gets down (HOO) Twist your body {*singing*} round and round, upside down Chorus: Busta Rhymes C'mon, yo, throw your hands c'mon Bitch grab your tits c'mon Let me know you in the spot Bump your fists, c'mon Thugs tote yo' shit we bout to get mo' rich, c'mon Let's blow the club, c'mon Fuck the place up, c'mon Shake yo' nasty ass and make it swing all around, c'mon Yo, make this money throw yo' loot on the ground, c'mon Bounce in your whips, c'mon Bitch lick yo' lips, c'mon Dangerous MC's My nigga this be the shit, c'mon Dangerous MC's My nigga this be the shit, c'mon [Mark Curry] Uh-huh, make money hand over fist The bo-vines roam where chickenhearts don't exist Settin up shop, it's hands on in the hustle Fakes don't kill nuttin but time and don't tussle The process of elimination, fresh rotation come and go and they death be starvation In the heat of battle it's no rest for the weary Snooze and you lose is the theory The theory of a patient man, is wild beyond belief Be afraid, you don't want beef with us chief Your talk is cheap and the supply meets demand Everything you can imagine is real man and revenge be the dish I serve to cats cold Stay up on about ten folds, you know how it goes You know the streets and it's real as shit, c'mon Niggaz grab your dicks, c'mon Bitches rub your tits, c'mon Chorus (minus last two lines) [Snoop Dogg] Awww nah, big Snoop Dogg Slap you with my paw, all across your jaw Break fool on these bitches while I'm breakin the law You come up in my room look bitch you takin it off Follow me, I slip em slide em rip em ride em provide em with that West coast G shit, L.B.C. shit We dips to this, make chips to this and buy brand new whips and shit, uh-huh (beyotch) I bet you didn't know that yo' bitch was suckin dick (say what?) Who you think she fuckin with? (what?) Look here My, Eastside lifestyle is way foul, move the crowd Point a pistol at you bitch niggas, BLA-DOW .. How you like me now? (what what, what?) You got stuck and fucked, Doggystyle 100 spokes Day-tonas, bendin the corner all up in Crooklyn, bad bitches are lookin Chorus (minus last two lines) [Busta Rhymes] So you lovin us so much this shit is bleedin through you If I worked in a resteraunt I'd shit in the food and feed it to you Most of my niggaz cuckoo, easy to gas to shoot you Even all of them Haitian niggaz won't believe this voodoo Can yo' pussy be chaka, don't let me speak in pat-ois and kick you in your face like we playin a game of soc-cer I love to cock the glock-a, stack up on loot and vod-ka And fuck your crew because all of y'all niggaz full of ca-ca The way we doin damage tell me how the FUCK you manage with my niggaz who marinate on foul thoughts and think savage Them niggaz'll throw you in a manhole and push they hand in yo' ass and pull yo' head right out yo' asshole! Parkay nigga we rugged all day nigga You ready to fuck bitch? Fuck the foreplay nigga This me for all consumers, my nigga FUCK the rumors Three in the worst way of pure coke for all you DRUG ABUSERS Chorus (minus last two lines) Chorus (fades out) |
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5:22 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Lil' Cease] Queen Bee, and Notorious B.I.G. nigga The best
that ever lived, the best that ever did it The best that ever lived it Cocksuckers, What's his name, huh? That's how we do it ya'll To all my niggaz in the house Bad Boy, Who we die for All day, everyday nigga [Verse 1] For the love of BIG, we bang out Since my man died, we don't hang out We blow brains out, we tear the club up pullin things out Mafia World, all my niggaz max out We Bad Boys, why ya'll niggaz cracked out Coward niggaz, most are burried down south Far from gangstas, really hush puppies Niggaz bearly speak when we discuss money Niggaz stay yappin when there's always somethin funny The realest niggaz never took nuthin from me Rock ice, stay jig, fuck with niggaz that got drunk, and hate kids Got niggaz on state bids, that hate movies like Rosewood and Matrix A yo, Biggie taught me well, Biggie told me how to flip bricks like cartwheel Chorus: Lil' Cease & Notorious B.I.G. [Lil' Cease] To all my thugs who puffed him To all my girls who hugged him You love him, yell his name.. I'd rather die on my feet, than live on my knees Nigga please, I cock and squeeze for.. Mafia [Notorious B.I.G.] Representin Bucktown Mack 11's cocked back, niggaz better duck down Face down, you know the routine, the cream Earings, you know the drama Biggie bring [Verse 2] For BIG I learn to grip aim and cock it Once I got it, I lock it Banger, big city boy with deep pockets See me speak, that paper better be the topic I like my ice frozen like the Antartic I'm quick to finish it, your good to start it And with the flashy colors on, you just a target, Waitin for a hard hit I like marine blue, marine green, roll with a mean team Meshed out, fresh out, and stay greams We big boys, we do big things, born in this county of kings I ain't got shit, I spread things, take things Fuck whenever my mood swings, from the summer for the winter to the spring My nigga ill's holdin it down for the beam Like BIG said, we do the real things, we still bubble and steal chains Still tustle, still struggle, we feel pain Still ride, still die for BIG's name (chorus) [Verse 3] For BIG I grip the cig, put six in your wig Not cause of what he said, cause of what he did When I hear that pop quiz, that's the way I was raised and thats the way it is for.. We roll like the Panthers, show our guns on camera Do jokes with police scanners, niggaz mediocre, full of dirt like hampers I roll with a bunch of niggaz that wear bandanas and rep... We kept it thurough, from the heart ripped the barrel B.K. style, see BIG howl, now Lets see who, wanna go against Mafia world Niggaz nuthin but squirels, they know we rep... Niggaz tryin to get a nut, hit in the head or below the gut Wood style roll'em up, get plucked, nigga what Go back to spend a ton, and know cats wit gold tooths Know my gat and bust for my nigga... (chorus) [Lil' Kim] Now when I cock back and squeeze, my Desert E'z Make you drop to your knees, barly able to breathe My bullets move in threes, one for Brook-lyn One for Mafia so take that, Uh, and this one's for... You know Frank kept me iced out Mink dragon, seven figures in my bank account All that material shit, ya'll still tryin to get it Uh, you fuckin pricks, get off his dick tryin to be like... All ya'll lame ass niggas keep my man name out your mouth Or get this shit right, check it, it's the B-I, double G-I, E Ya'll niggaz can't see Poppa, nor the Big Moma Who you love... for the Y2G, the two ten We got it sewn, we don't need ya'll help, we hold our own Cause this goes out to cats not tryin to give it up BIG missin us, shout him out... (chorus) (chorus into fade) |
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3:49 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
Chorus: Notorious B.I.G. To all my Brooklyn / "Niggas!!
(Niggas!!)" To all my Uptown / "Niggas!! (Niggas!!)" To all my Bronx / "Niggas!! (Niggas!!)" To all my Queensbridge / "Niggas!! (Niggas!!)" "Nigga nigga nigga.." [Notorious B.I.G.] Back up chump, you know Biggie Smalls rips it quick and kicks it quick, you know how black niggaz get with the hoods fatigues with the boots with trees Smokin weed, flippin ki's, makin crazy G's Hittin buckshots at niggaz that open spots on the avenue, take my loot, and I'm baggin you Pimpin hoes that drive Volvo's and Rodeos Flash the roll, make her wet, in her pantyhose Damn, a nigga style is unorthodox Grip the glock, when I walk down the crowded blocks Just in case a nigga wanna act out I just black out, and blow they motherfuckin back out That's a real nigga for ya Chorus [Notorious B.I.G.] When we smoke spliffs, we pack four-fifths just in case dread wanna riff He get a free lift to the cemetary, rough very Not your ordinary, we watch you get buried That's a real nigga for ya Get mad do a quarter flip the script, and rip your lawyer Spit at the D.A., cause fuck what she say She don't give a fuck about your ass anyway Up North found first stop for the town of fist-skill, where the hand skills are real ill You'll be a super Hoover doo-doo stain remover Ha hahhh, yo G, pass the ruler Chorus 2X [Notorious B.I.G.] Money hoes and clothes Blunt smoke comin out the nose, is all a nigga knows Flippin on foes, puttin tags on toes Watchin the stash grow, clockin the cashflow The neighborhood gravedigga Gettin paid so much, all the bitches wanna see a nigga I guess they figure I'm paid, I wanna get laid or since I got loot I wanna knock boots I'd rather beat my dick than trick and if she don't suck then we don't fuck I'd rather make a buck, drive a fat-ass truck Grab the 9, two clips, and run amuck Yes, flex at the two or three Benzes I wreck shit, what the fuck you expected? A fly guy? Well fuck it, I'm the high guy from Bed-Stuy, puttin the swellin on your eye and your nose even, when I choke ya you stop breathin And when Jake come, I'm leavin! Chorus 4X |
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3:28 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Too $hort] Beeotch! Talk about these hoes Big.. [Notorious
B.I.G.] I got a bitch that suck my dick til I nut Spit it on my gut and slurp that shit back up Ain't that a slut (HELL YEA) she even take it in the butt Fuck for bout a hour, now she want a golden shower You didn't know that we be pissin on hoes, bitch (BEOTCH) Luke and Biggie straight shittin on hoes, bitch (BEOTCH) Lick your toes, bitch? (BEOTCH) Fuck no, you must be crazy Squirt in your face and then I'm Swayze (bitch) Recognize G, straight up, I can't knock ya After Big Poppa, fuck ALL of Junior M.A.F.I.A. The whole clique, dick sucked, ass licked Leave your number by the phone, bring yo' ass on home I roam in Lexuses and Benzes, the fly way With the flyest bitch gettin head on the highway (ridin) My way deep throat on Luke's boat When the moon rises, I'm cumin in her eyes-es (do it) Just the way players play Leave it up to me, I get fucked all day (yeah) Sucked all day, smokin blunts, countin cheese Fucking bitches til they assholes bleed What you say ba-by Chorus: Too $hort, Biggie (repeat 2X) [$hort] All I want is hoes, big booty hoes [B.I.G] Check it out, here's another one [$hort] All I want is hoes, big booty hoes "Don't take em to the crib unless they bonin" [Notorious B.I.G.] Uhh.. uhh.. Biggie bag bitches from barbecues to barmitzvah's The dick don't fit, use your lips cause.. (use em) I'm feelin kinda itchy for a quickie Don't take off your coat, all you got to do is lick me Me eat you, I beat you, then greet you to the door bitch Cause I don't love you no more Which one of these hoes in the lobby wanna slob me You know me, I like my dick Brown like Bobby Jim Duke shoot, then the bitch get the boot unless she lick ass and blow dicks like flutes I like em cute, round tits and fat asses Educated, so I can bust off on they glasses I wanna cum on your tongue and gums, all night The bitch drink nuts by the pint [Too $hort] Drink it bitch! All of these hoes do that shit Chorus [Too $hort] It's after midnight, it's time to come up Fuckin with some sluts tryin to bust a nut I ain't seen this many hoes in a long time I wanna make em all mine (get down hoe) but it's gettin kinda late, and I cain't wait Bitch fuck a first date I pulled out my dick, she called me rude.. .. but then she ate it like food (tramp) Then she noticed the limp and the whip Recognize game, you've been pimped by a pimp Throw all that trick shit, out the window You come up short tryin to doubt the pimp hoe Too $hort baby, straight from Oakland Hoe money is my fix and I can't be broken Freak bitches all on my dick We on some Brooklyn - Oakland, California shit (beotch!) Chorus [Too $hort] You knew I was a dog when you met me bitch (BITCH) Ha ha, fo' sho' (YEAHH) Tell you anything you wanna hear right about now To the spot, that's where we goin baby See we goin to the spot Do our thang like we always do You ain't know? |
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3:37 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Notorious B.I.G.] Venue after venue, I've been through Coming
to the telly, so I can bend you Send you to the store, condoms and more Jealous females, call you sluts and whores Could it be my hardcore metaphor Make sweat pour on the bedroom floor Open up the Lex door Jump on in, I'm kind of tired I'm a roll blunts while you spin You got your license, right? Alright, no swerving Hair blonde out, Madonna style like a virgin Splurging, Dom P., Ro-se Much foreplay, that's my forte Niggas see the ring, baguettes to death She looking for a man, honey he just left Violate me, he get beat to death Goodfellas squeeze every shell they got left Grand Marnier increase the don strength Two four-fifths within my arms length With a calm breath I say we gots to float Throw Little Cease the keys to the boat Tongue all down her throat, you know the routine Got my dick large like Bruce Springsteen And you mean too, eyes greenish blue Got the Coogi sweater with the bubble Fubu Beautiful, that's how the night goes Get out them tight clothes Get in some night clothes I invite those girls that smoke lye Keep it real with you You keep it real with I We be tight like frog's ass Have you screaming "Biggie, Biggie give me one more chance" [Chorus] [Puff Daddy] Would you ride with me? (Yeah) Would you lie for me? (That's right) Would you get high with me? (For sure) Would you die for me? (No doubt) (Repeat) [Lil' Kim] These hoes don't treat you like I treat you Like my contacts, I can see right through Don't they know me and you is stuck like glue? Queen Bitch means number one and two Wifey, ya'll ain't got to like me Go head and act dumb, you'll just catch a hot one Y'all know where I'm from Bucktown, lay your ass down You don't wanna play around (with me) Probably just mad because Frank chose me A fly cu-tie, you just a grou-pie Girls call my telephone just to hang up While me and you is in the crib, laying up Oh he ain't tell you that we live together And that we gonna have a kid together Whatever, me intimidated, never Anything you give to him, he give it right to Kim Anyway, I fuck better than you Give head better than you, pussy get wetter than you If I fuck another nigga, don't mean nothing B.I.G. is in my heart from the start Whether broke or rich, I'm a stay his bitch Chicks who used to be around, where they at now? (See I don't care bout them other broads) B.I.G. kept it real with me, and that's that [Chorus fade out] |
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4:38 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Notorious B.I.G.] Nigga was motherfuckin HYPED UP Nigga just
grabbed the nigga, snuffed the nigga and it was on from there The motherfucker there wasn't nuttin stoppin him (What what did the rest of his niggaz do?) Man the motherfuckers was just ready for anything Them niggaz was packin burners Them niggaz was ready to fight whatever we had to do holmes Niggaz was on the real flipout holmes It was just comin out like a motherfucker The nigga amped be like COME ON, COME ON MOTHERFUCKER!! Chorus: repeat 8X Come on motherfuckers, come on [samples play over second half of chorus] "Man what you fuck doin over here?" "Are you awake now?" "Hell yah I'm awake man; now tell me what the fuck is goin on here" "Looks like the competition stopped by to pay us a little visit, and check us out" [Sadat X] Let's go deep into the phrase, beautiful sunrays off the baldhead, everything is real Biggie me put on this joint so I'ma be the big wheel Watch it Slim, hey Dad, place yo' bet on seven Peace to one-oh-six, one-oh-eight, one- to-the-hundred-eleventh Hey Biggie, I understand you're from Brooklyn with 22's in your shoes, yo keep the shank ready [Notorious B.I.G.] Uhhh well, why not blow up the spot with Sadat Release the BRAINSTORM, to make your motherfuckin BRAIN WARM A strange form, somethin kind of lyrical Biggie the bastard, Sadat's kind of spiritual Well "In God We Trust", guns I bust Got that disgustin, sewer style dumpin and that uhh {*singin*} do you knowwwwww, where you're goin to Do you like the things that I bring? {*rappin*} Make an emcee wanna sing for a livin Take the beatdown we fuckin givin, c'mon motherfucker Chorus [Sadat X] What? Niggaz want drama, puttin work on my block when I told y'all last week, that shit was too hot Sellin pieces and treys, cuts my dimes Somebody gon' get paid, somebody block get sprayed Reaction is delayed as y'all run down the block Caught one in your chest, your breath come in spurts Hey yo Biggie tell these niggaz I'ma hit em where it hurts The big city it don't spare no bodies Call me papichulo, to all the spanish mamis I'm about ten blunts down, drank three or fo' stouts Seen five fat asses, passed this bitch with glasses Hey yo money that's yo' stock, yo Bigs pass the glock I'ma tell him it can happen, don't play me with that rap shit Life is real, so Biggie take the steel Chorus [Notorious B.I.G.] Uhh I got seven Mac-11's, about eight, .38's Nine 9's, ten Mac-10's, the shits never end You can't touch my riches Even if you had MC Hammer and them 357 bitches Biggie Smalls, the millionaire, the mansion, the yacht The two weed spots, the two hot glocks HAH, that's how I got the weed spot I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the landspread Lil' Gotti got the shotty to your body So don't resist, or you might miss Christmas I tote guns, I make number runs I give emcees the runs drippin; when I throw my clip in the A.K., I slay from far away Everybody hit the D-E-C-K My slow flows remarkable Peace to Matteo Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniff the llello That's crazy blunts, mad L's My voice excels from the avenue to jailcells Oh my God I'm droppin shit like a pigeon I hope you're listenin, smackin babies at they christening So you better grab your pistol cause if you sit still, I'm gonna make your fuckin shit spill And I'm talkin bout buckets, why did I have to do it? Sadat said fuck it, you got a gun, nigga bust it Cause I got mo' shots to pop-ya Big Pop-pa, breakin you off somethin proper Signin off is the hardcore rap singer a.k.a. crack slinger, bring it anytime nigga |
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4:02 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
"Well it's the Funk Docta Spock.."
"Meth-Tical.." "Biggie.. Biggie.." (mmmhmmmmmm) [Notorious B.I.G.] Uhh.. uhh.. uhh.. (yo c'mon Big) uhh.. Fuck that, I preach it, my nine reaches the prestigious, cats that speak this, Willie shit Flooded pieces, my hand releases, snatches Smack ya cabbage, half-ass rappers, shouldn't have it So I grab it, never run, the outcome is usually, a beatdown brutally, fuck who you be or where you're from, West or East coast, squeeze toast Leave most in the blood they layin in, what, what? The rings and things you sing about, bring em out It's hard to yell when the barrel's in your mouth It's more than I expected, I thought your jewels was rented but they wasn't, so run it, cousin I could chill, the heat doesn't Ran up in your shell about a dozen You never see bank like Frank White Your hand clutching, your chest-plate contemplate You bought to die, nigga wait, keep yo' hands high [Redman] Yo.. yo yo I don't brownnose out of town hoes I'm up around fo' with the crowbar to the five point oh I get bagged, I'm John Doe, suspect You ass like prime roastin, Calvin Klein clothes Explode the pyros when Doc guest appear I'm out there, I bought it with George Jetson here Your time is near, so get your body dropped off I stopped trustin niggaz since Gotti got caught It's Bricks keep your wrist covered, or piss colored By the waist got a gun as dark as Kris brother I.C.U., my sheisty crew, like ice me too I break your legs, leave your eyes slightly blue The Doc was born with a grenade palm I'm concurrent in your hood like a, teenage mom Yo Biggie (what? what?) She havin my bay-bayy If I pull out the A.K., keep your hands high "This rule is so underrated.." -> B.I.G. "Actin as if it can't happen, you're frontin" -> Meth "Ain't no other kings in this rap thing.." -> B.I.G. "Biggie, a motherfuckin rap phenomenon" -> B.I.G. (repeat all 2X) [Notorious B.I.G.] Uhh, uhh I got a new mouth to feed, I'm due South with keys Y'all pick seeds out y'all weed, I watch cowards bleed Motherfucker please, it's my block with my rocks Fuck that hip-hop, them one-two's, and you don't stops Me and my nigga Lance, took Kim and Cee's advance Bought ten bricks, four pounds of weed plants from Branson, now we lampin, twelve room mansion Bitches get naked off "Get Money", "Player's Anthem" Don't forget, "One More Chance" and, my other hits, other shit niggaz spit be counterfeit, robbery come actually in and out like fuckin rapidly, pass the gat to me Make his chest rest, where his back should be, talkin blasphemy Blastin me, your family, rest in coffins often Frank Wizzard, fuck you soft or fragilla Play hard like Reggie Miller, rapper, slash dope dealer slash Gorilla, slash illest turned killer [Method Man] Now now Don't approach me with that rah rah shit, you out of pocket I take these adolescents back to Spofford Mentally my energy, is like a figure eight, on it's side that's infinity -- too many sick niggaz, nickel nines; bring the remedy -- when you play the field, what's the penalty Unnecessary roughness, career endin injuries for suckers Stuck on stupid, shoot em with a dart like Cupid until they got love for my music Star Wars I'm Han Solo, with three egoes and three charges, I got to "See-three-P.O.'s" This is whoop-yo'-ass-day, the sequel Eyeball blower with no equal, niggaz swingin swords in the WAR that's my people, sho' nuff, befo' I roll up This is a hold up, hands high, reach for the sky I rep S.I., the unpretty, word to Left Eye New York Shitty, put they weight on it And who better for the job than Biggie? The Notorious Jeee-zus, "Unbelievable" rhyme that reaches and touch individual, small frame buck and change MC, What's-Your-Name, tuck your chain All about the fortune, fuck the fame, labels still extortin Kick me when I'm down, but I'm up again, scorchin Hot -- forcin my way up in the door to kill the bullshit like a matador Keep your hands high (what?) |
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4:33 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Notorious B.I.G.] To my motherfuckin man 50 Grand, the
alcoholic man Inject a tall can in his bloodstream if he can Biggie Smalls, the pussy stroker MC provoker, chocolate thai smoker HEAR?? I like to max in Maximas and Acuras Your girl buttcheeks I'm smackin HER The raw rapper, spine snapper with the little hookers on my lap-ah You know the flavor Mack-ah A shy nigga but I ain't your fuckin comforter And if I ever fall in love I bet I'm fuckin her Ask the hooker, if I didn't jook her If she tried to front, then I drop the Chucky Booker on her {*singing*} Why you wanna.. play your games on me {*rapping*} Bitch, you crazy? Commitments, I'm Swayze, no time for the ill shit Rest with the niggaz on that real bloodspill shit My rap-pin tac-tics are drastic Stretchin motherfuckers like Mr. Fantastic So if you wanna see my pedigreeeee You better be, filled with energy, niggaz never gettin me So let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down Chorus: Craig Mack Hahhhh, AHHHHHHHH HAH Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Hahhhh boyeeeee, let me get down and funk em) Yo let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Yeah.. uh-huh.. yeah) Yo let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Yo I just wanna get em) [G-Dep] Yeah, yo Odds even, said shoot (blaow) Asked me the reason, and I said loot Man that's all I'm here for, therefore when death declares war, you know what to prepare for Shit, one for shelter, book flights on Delta Live on your station, the radiation'll melt ya Cool - I guess your momma raised a fool You didn't wanna blaze your tool shoulda stayed in school Rap terror, shots through your new era Get it together, y'all niggaz shoulda knew better I'm on point like acupuncture I might, track and hunt ya, smack and punch ya Left side, right side, witcha hoe I might slide Runnin wit this big guy, y'all niggaz is pranksters Don't make a nigga have to show you the pound and show you the sound, that'll put you low in the ground Just let me get down Chorus: Craig Mack Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (What? What?) Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (I just wanna funk a little bit) Yo let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Hahh.. I just wanna funk, what? Ahhhh) Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down [Missy] I be like WHAAAAT? Let me clear my throat Break the smoke, Missy gotta hit some high notes HEYYYYYY! Yo from coast to coast I burn like toast So dope that I floats through snow nig-guh Oh, you don't wanna bow to me The agony be like, "Somebody help me please!" Feel my pressure, never could a bitch flow better in any weather, I'm Biggie bangin ya nigga Ah-huh, I used to be the chick to lick the lollipop Now I pop through your body parts BLAOW, BLAOW, you like the way I interact Proceed to smack, any MC that's wack Ah-huh, microphone check one two I do ya tool, like them freaks run through your crew Give it to me, OHHHH, send it to me, OHHHH But before I get down, where's my money? Let me get down Chorus: Craig Mack Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Hahhh.. boyeee) Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (I just wanna funk a little bit) Yo let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Hahh.. I just wanna funk) Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (The Mackalicious funk wanna get down.. boyeeeeeee, HAHHH, AHHHH-HAH Mack, feelin the funk) [Notorious B.I.G.] Bringin it live to you bitch ass niggaz |
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6:08 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Puff Daddy]
Yo.. Yo.. check this out YEAH! MotherFUCKERS, C'MON! MotherFUCKERS, c'mon B.I.G. motherFUCKERS B.I.G., motherFUCKERS Two thou', B.I.G. motherFUCKERS ??, two thou', motherFUCKERS ??, B.I.G. motherFUCKERS B.I.G. at war, motherFUCKERS B.I.G. ... we proceed .. to give you, what you need I am.. as we proceed .. to give you all what you need motherFUCKERS B.I.G., motherFUCKERS OHHHHH SHIT!!! [Notorious B.I.G. - overlaps above] Yo.. too much smoke in here man Crack the fuckin window man that's how the fuck you went to jail last time nigga The fuck wrong with you nigga.. the fuck man? Ahh ehh.. stupid nigga man Nigga fuck that Yo.. yo! Yo-yo-yo, yo, yo, yo.. yo Yo-yo-yo, yo.. yo Yo.. I make yo' mouthpiece obese like Della Reese When I release, you loose teeth like Lil' Cease Nigga please, blood floods yo' Dungarees And that's just the half on my warpath Laugh now cry later, I rhyme greater than the average playa hater, and spectators buy my CD twice; they see me in the streets They be like, "Yo he nice, but that's on the low doe" Be the cats with no dough, tried to play me at my show I pull out fo'-fo's, and go up in they clothes Short-change niggaz, snort-caine niggaz Extortion came quicker, bought the Range nigga Ya still tickle me, I used to be as strong as Ripple be til Lil' Cease crippled me Now I play hard, like my girls nipples be The game sour like like a pickle be, y'all know da rules Move from BK to New Jeruz -- thinkin bout all the planes we flew, bitches, we ran through Now the year's new, I lay my game flat I want my spot back, take two Motherfuckers mad cause I blew, niggaz envious Too many niggaz on my dick, shit strenuous When my men bust, you just move wit such stamina Slugs missed ya, I ain't mad at cha (we ain't mad at cha) Blood rushin, concussions, ain't nothin Catch cases, come out frontin, smokin somethin Sippin White Russians, bitch in the Benz bumpin I laced it wit the basic, six TV's a system Knockin Mase shit, face it, we hard to hit Guard ya shit, 'fore I stick you, for your re-up Wipe the pee up, mixed shots, woke your seed up Go in the ashtray, spark the weed up, LONG KISS Chorus: Joe Hooker Y'all can't see this.. That this might be the night.. This might be the night that's right, that's right This might be the night.. (kiss your ass goodbye) [Havoc] Niggaz playin they hands wrong, that's why they won't last long Finessed, what I was dealt with from the day I was born While you bent up on that corner, niggaz plottin and scheamin Up in them little holes, be creepin wit mad demons Niggaz knows, not to fuck with my dough Niggaz know not to fuck with this little bro I'm ten seconds hit'n'go Black mask black truck chrome rims Chuck Timbs Enough to confuse, any witness Strongest of calibers, is what we only travel wit You gotta get hit, your man did, so you got a hand in it Extort y'all, once friends, now we gotta cross y'all You know the niggaz with the biggest balls set the new laws and flip fours, have em washin drawers while you up North Gat to your jugular, getting your salad tossed Overhearin niggaz situation, sayin, "Like we thought" Sittin on the stand with no remorse Chorus [Prodigy] Yo, yo how we do niggaz, I don't beef I shoot niggaz If I can't get the main character, a few niggaz then I don't need no gin to boost me I got enough steam to blow, somebody gotta go I got fire in my heart, guns in my car Cash in my Carharts, it ain't hard to get em like blaow when I hit em, the nigga shit his drawers when the 40-pound hit him, the fuck these niggaz thought? Could it be the fame, maybe it's the 2 Benz or would it be the same if I couldn't claim those? Fuckin with, hoes ?? Cock sucker beat it while you bleed it on the dashboard Niggaz get, what they hand call for, again bricks You get deaded, I get erections, over revenge Can you get a quiet spot in the shade, for a breeze I lay a nigga down and steam roll away ?? Chorus 2X {Puff Daddy shouting a lot over the chorus} [Puff Daddy] I never thought it would be like this I never thought it would be like this Always thought you would be here Always thought you would be by my side I never thought it'd be like this OH GOD I MISS YOU! C'MON! YEA! Chorus {Puff Daddy shouting a lot over the chorus} |
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4:51 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Notorious B.I.G.] Uhh.. UHH Yeah.. Uhh.. uhh.. Uh! Yeah..
yeah.. Uhh.. I'm on.. Fuck em.. yeah, uhh.. With my hands gripped.. praise the Lord shit Fuck her, never knew her Screw her.. (dump her body, dump her body) sewer Our father.. uh- huh.. What you expected from his next of kin I'm loco bro, but ain't no Mexican I got nines in the bedroom, glocks in the kitchen A shotty by the shower if you wanna shoot me while I'm shittin Uhh, the lesson from the Smith and Wessun is depressin Niggaz keep stressin, the same motherfuckin question How many shots does it take, to make my heart stop and my body start to shake, if I should die before I wake Chorus: Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 2X) With my hands gripped.. praise the Lord shit Our father.. if I should die before I wake [Black Rob] Fluck that Snap a nigga shit, smash him with the fifth, watch his body lift Shut his hottie's lips, bitch screamin, hit her body quick Got me like the trifest not knowin how my life is My life is, rap sheet long as the Turnpike The sheistest, hey fella, who bidded with the lifers Did it with the glocks, spit it witcha pops, you was in diapers Loved me when you came to Rikers Hated me all in the free cypher; mad you can't be like us Some murderers who turn bikers -- see Biggie Smalls recruited these snipers -- alumni do it just like us Some pied pipers, squeezin life out y'all It's all out war, be all wild as all outdoor If a coward got beef, y'all be checkin his palm Paralyzin my niggaz thorough kid, how bout yours? Real quick to screw a nigga then, hop out four Clean the wipers, hit the party up and, hop out yours Bitch nigga.. whoah.. Chorus [Beanie Siegal] Yo when you fuckin wit Mac, you fuckin wit the best Still wall to wall with them dusty Tecs Man you know how I handle my shit, S.K. can on my shit Jump out of vans like Hannibal Smith Man I spit a thousand rounds, your squad don't need it Shredders in a riot pump leave you quadriplegic When I squeeze don't breathe keep it lined and even So when niggaz get hit, they be cryin screamin Lyin bleedin -- from that iron steamin And I ain't tryin to hear that bullshit, I ain't mean it Niggaz start bitchin, when that pistol in they face or I sick two puts to come and get you in your place If I catch you in my shit, I'm wakin my bitch Hear take this shit, crackin the brick, facin that shit Takin two sniffs, grabbin my shit Best believe if I get hit, y'all niggaz takin some shit Picture niggaz takin my shit Chorus [Ice Cube] Niggaz never thought they'd see Cube and Biggie in the year 2000, all drunk and pissy off whiskey, you can miss me, actin gay He's the King of New York, I'm the King of L.A. Doin it the O.G. way; it's sorta like the Brooklyn Way, it's just the crook in me So this is dedicated to the memory of the Notorious One, the glorious one And if you go for your gun, I got to go for mine Cock my nine, and seperate yo' head from yo' spine So, "Grab yo' dicks if you love hip-hop" and fuck you niggaz that shot Big Pop' The conspiracy, of this nation, for assassination of the young black male in this black hell And I can tell, no matter the weather that you and Tupac got yo' shit together California Love Chorus |
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3:48 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
Intro: Puff Daddy As we proceed to give you what you need 9 to
5 motherfuckers get live motherfuckers -- 2X As we proceed to give you what you need East coast motherfuckers Bad Boy motherfuckers BIG - Now turn the mics up Turn that mic up, yea that beat is knockin to that microphone Turn that shit the fuck up Uh, what? Turn it up louder Yea, uh As we proceed, to give you what you need J.M. motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Verse One: Who shot ya? Seperate the weak from the ob-solete Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets It's on nigga, fuck all that bickering beef I can hear sweat trickling down your cheek Your heartbeat soun like Sasquatch feet Thundering, shaking the concrete Finish it, stop, when I foil the plot Neighbors call the cops said they heard mad shots Saw me in the drop, three in the corner Slaughter, electrical tape around your daughter Old school new school need to learn though I burn baby burn like Disco Inferno Burn slow like blunts with ya-yo Peel more skins than Idaho potato Niggaz know, the lyrics molestin is takin place Fuckin with B.I.G. it ain't safe I make your skin chafe, rashes on the masses Bumps and bruises, blunts and Landcruisers Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools Niggaz mad because I know that Cash Rules Everything Around Me, two glock nines Any motherfucker whispering about mines And I'm, Crooklyn's finest You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind this Interlude: As we proceed to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers get live motherfuckers As we proceed to give you what you need East coast motherfuckers Bad Boy motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Smoke blunts motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Ready to die motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Verse Two: I seen the light excite all the freaks Stack mad chips, spread love with my peeps Niggaz wanna creep, got ta watch my back Think the Cognac and indo sack make me slack? I switches all that, cock-sucker G's up One false move, get swiss cheesed up Clip to Tec, respect I demand it Slip and break the, 11th Commandment Thou shalt not fuck with raw C- Poppa Feel a thosand deaths when I drop ya I feel for you, like Chaka Khan I'm the don Pussy when I want Rolex on the arm You'll die slow but calm Recognize my face, so there won't be no mistake So you know where to tell Jake, lame nigga Brave nigga, turned front page nigga Puff Daddy flips daily I smoke the blunts he sips on the Bailey's on the rocks, tote glocks at christenings And my cock, in the fire position and... (Get live motherfuckers Ready to Die motherfuckers) C'mere, c'mere [it ain't gotta be like that Big] open your fucking mouth, open your... didn't I tell you don't fuck with me? [*muffled* c'mon man] Huh? Didn't I tell you not to fuck with me? (as we proceed) [c'mon man] Look at you now (to give you what you need) Huh? [c'mon man] (9 to 5 motherfuckers) Can't talk with a gun in your mouth huh? (get live motherfuckers) Bitch-ass nigga, what? (get live motherfuckers) [*muffled sounds, six gun shots*] (as we proceed...) Who shot ya? Outro: Puff Daddy ...to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers Get live motherfuckers (Who shot ya?) Get high motherfuckers Ready to Die motherfuckers Hah!! As we proceed... (Who shot ya?) ...to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers East coast motherfuckers (Who shot ya?) West coast motherfuckers... West coast motherfuckers... hah! As we proceed, to give you what you need As we proceed to give you what you need Get live motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Get money motherfuckers As we proceed to give you what you need Get live motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers As we proceeeeeeed To give you what you need... 9 to 5... |
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3:37 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Big] Huh? [Cee] Cease-a-Lee' [Big] Doggytyle.. YEAH! [Cee]
B.I.G. [Big] Uhh.. to all the ladies in the house! [Cee] Where they at? [Big] Uhh, uhh, check it out [Cee] C'mon Big [Notorious B.I.G] Another day in the ghetto One look outside I'm already upset yo It look about a hundred-and-two It's a Saturday and Biggie ain't got nuttin to do Uhh, I'm intrrupted by a phone ring {*brrrrring*} Sometimes I wish I never got the motherfuckin thing "Hello hello? Can I speak to Biggie?" Yo who dis? "Taisha" Yo call back, I'm busy Why don'tcha hit me on the box a little later Washed up, got dressed, hits the elevator Steps out it's the same old scene Dopefiend, crackfiend, eyewitness news team I seen a honey with a butt lookin butter soft I know she looks much better with them clothes up off Sittin all thick, with the ruby red lipstick {*SMACK*} That's the one I gotta get with Chorus One: Biggie Smalls Can I get wit'cha, can I get wit'cha Can I get wit'cha, can I get wit'cha "Why you wanna get with me?" Cause you got a big B-U-T, T, see Can I get wit'cha, can I get wit'cha Can I get wit'cha, can I get wit'cha "Why you wanna get with me?" Cause you got a big B-U-T, T [Notorious B.I.G] She said "If I get witchu I gotta get witcha whole hood rat crew Whatcha I think I do? Sling skins for a livin My name ain't November, this ain't Thanksgivin You aint Michael Bivins Mack it up flip it, rub it down Do me baby, I ain't down My name ain't Tupac I don't "Get Around" You hittin this nigga, how that sound?" Huh, first of all you got me mixed up with Somebody ya done slept with, hold up That's my Neneh Cherry shit, I got somethin slicker Let me just sip up on this liquor All I wanna do is smoke a little chronic Slam ya like Onyx, and get ya hooked on this Biggie Smalls phonics, 102 How to squeeze 22's in them Reeboks shoes, HUH? Chorus Two: Biggie Smalls and Lil' Cease Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) Can I get wit'cha.. Cause I got a big B-U- T, T, see Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) "Why you wanna get with me?" Cause you got a big B-U-T, T [Notorious B.I.G] I said walk me upstairs, cause I forgot my Phillies She said "I don't care, just dont be actin silly" I knew I had her trapped with my hardcore rap And it wouldn't take a second 'fore I had her on her back Foolin with the bra strap, threw on my Silk cd cause, "I wanna get freaky wit'chou" Lose control on the skins is all I can picture Now I'm about to hitcha Chorus Three: Biggie Smalls and Lil' Cease Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) "Why you wanna get with me?" Cause you got a big B-U-T, T [Lil' Cease] Uhh.. Lil' Cease.. yo, yo, yo To all my hoes, respect due Tamika sorry I left you Michelle I'm glad I met you You make the head feel special Now I know it's official That I can touch and tease you Pull up my pants and diss you And hit the door you came through Its Cease-a-Lee, a.k.a. Mista Nasty Germany style, these hoes they blast me One of the chickenhead with sex appeal pass me That's her hands, ankles, feet they ashy I like the flashy type, who pass with dykes With long hair, and they ass be right I get up on that ass, see what that be like I fuck a bitch good, if she ask me right, huh Chorus One (repeat 2X) |
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5:10 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
* this is actually a remix of "Everyday Struggle"
[Notorious B.I.G.] Wooo! There's gonna be a lot of punchin in this motherfucker Y'all better be swift with that punch button Jack Biggie.. Biggie.. [Notorious B.I.G.] I know how it feel to wake up fucked up Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell People look at you like youse the user Selling drugs to all the losers, mad buddha abuser But they don't know about your stress-filled day Baby on the way mad bills to pay That's why you drink Tanqueray; so you can reminisce and wish, you wasn't livin so devilish, ssshit I remember I was just like you Smokin blunts with my crew, flippin over 62's Cause G-E-D, wasn't B-I-G I had to get P-A-D, that's why my moms hate me She was forced to kick me out, no doubt Then I figured out licks went for twenty down South Packed up my tools for my raw power move Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves for chumps tryin to stop my flow And what they don't know will show on the autopsy Went to see Papi, to cop me a brick Asked for some consignment, he wasn't tryin to hear it Smoking mad Newports cause I'm due in court for an assault, that I caught, in Bridgeport, New York Catch me if you can like the Gingerbread Man You better have your gat in hand, cause man Chorus: K-Ci & JoJo Come and run with me .. I really wanna show you How I run the streets .. I really wanna show you How I'm clockin G's .. I really wanna show you Come and run with me .. I really wanna show you [Notorious B.I.G.] I had the master plan I'm in the caravan on my way to Maryland with my man Two-Tecs to take over this projects They call him Two-Tecs, he tote two tecs And when he start to bust he like to ask, "Who's next?" I got my honey on the Amtrak with the crack in the crack of her ass Two pounds of hash in the stash I wait for hon to make some quick cash I told her she could be Lieutenant, bitch got gassed At last, I'm literally loungin black Sittin back, countin double digit thousand stacks Had to re-up; see what's up with my peeps Toyota Deal-a-Thon had it cheap on the Jeeps See who got smoked, what rumors was spread Last I heard I was dead with six to the head Then I got the phone call, it couldn't hit me harder We got infiltrated, like Nino at the Carter Heard Tec got murdered in a town I never heard of by some bitch named Alberta over nickel-plated burners And my bitch swear to God she won't snitch I told her when she hit the bricks I'll make the hooker rich Conspiracy, she'll be home in three Until then I looks out for the whole family A true G, that's me, blowing like a bubble; in the everyday struggle Chorus [Notorious B.I.G.] I'm seeing body after body and our mayor Guiliani ain't tryin to see no black man turn to John Gotti [Nas] Guns and diamonds Bitches put they tongues where the sun ain't shinin Take ki's til they spot us, snakes flee with consignment This kid he got his krib rated, police found grams They locked up, his whole fam; moms sister his old man Nigga bailed his moms out, then he told on his man Now they home, actin like nuttin wrong, hustlin again He tried to be the next Frank White, and Escobar Pickin up coke a fiend holds it in a seperate car Cooks it up til it's bright white, cut it tight right Then he slings it to the fiends, lookin like Fright Night Coppin the motorbikes, the scooters, countin dough on computers High technology dealers, to the users and losers Half-leg DiDi, try to swap drug for TV's Stores run out of baking soda from BK to QB My niggaz die for the cause, .45 on the drawer City laws made by Big Nas and Biggie Smalls Bitches, holdin my weight in they titties and drawers My bitches out of state get bust while they pushin my cars Callin me up, callin me baller, call for they cut Pretty hoes bring me my cash, swallow all of this nut Seats on the Bent' stay nasty, push the dash for the stash box is where the cash be; watchin for task force Cause I know they comin but I'm reachin my goal Fuck bummin, I'm makin sure I leave this whole game wit somethin Crib in West Palms for my dime, crib for my moms Ridiculous, you lookin at the next Nicholas Barnes, baby Chorus (repeat to fade) |
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3:19 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
As a child Christopher was outspoken when it suited him at times he was quiet
And of course he was mischievous as all little boys are as a young man he likes To do everything he liked to read he likes to be with his friends as young kids Are young boys he enjoyed life everything that would make him happy are comfortable He would do but mostly he enjoyed being with his friends and family his early Inspirations toward rap music were the LLs of the world the sugar hills the Mr. Magic's and the fat boys of the rap channel those were all the things I heard in The house even though I called it noise and banging I know now that it is a Accepted musical art form I was a single parent I raised my son on my own his Father had no influence on his decision towards the musical outlet are career he Chose my son had a mind of his own even if his father was around he would have Turned to rap he loved music he loved rap at a point in my sons life he Developed paranoia about death and about the dying we are living in a world of I'm Perfect human beings we are greed jealousy and envy or manifested by what Others have accomplished in life my son was very very much aware of that he Appreciated his station in life on the directions in which he was going are Traveling on the other hand there were others who I should uhh use the hip hop Phrase player hating and I think that is what resulted in his paranoia if I had To change anything in my sons life that would have allowed him to be here Today I would have deterred him from a career in music I'm aware that millions Appreciated his music millions loved his music be that it may if he hadn't Chosen that life style that career my son would be alive today if I could sum Up Christopher in one word the word would be generous th thing that my son Loved most about life was the fact that he was in a position to help position To share position to give to others who needed to others who wanted to others Appreciated the gifts that he gave that's what he loved most |
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1:40 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Previously, on Ready to Die
*music fades in from "Suicidal Thoughts"* ... me and her sister had somethin goin on (Aiyyo, would you listen to me motherfucker?) I reach my peak, I can't speak Call my nigga Cheek, tell him that my will is weak (Aiyyo c'mon nigga, cut that) I'm sick of niggaz lyin, I'm sick of bitches hawkin (Aiyyo, yoyo Big, aiyyo chill) Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin *gunshot* *Life After Death piano and music comes in* (Aiyyo Big, aiyyo BIG!!) *heartbeat slows, sound of ambulence sirens* *piano plays on* *sound of pulse monitor and breathing machine* [Puff Daddy] Damn... we was spose to rule the world baby We was unstoppable! The shit can't be over, no The shit can't be over man I know you hear me nigga I know you hear me You got too much livin to do Too much unfinished business It ain't over *flatline* Live your life |
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4:27 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
I'm sittin in the crib dreamin about Leer jets and coupes
The way Salt shoops and how they sell records like Snoop Oops! I'm interrupted by a doorbell 3:52, who the hell Is this? I gets up quick Cocks my shit Stop the dogs from barkin Then proceed to walkin Its a face that I seen before My nigga Sing, we used to sling on the 16th floor Check it I look deeper I see blood up on his sneakers And his fist gripped a chrome four-fifth So I dip Nigga, is you creepin or speakin? He tells me C-Rock just got hit up at the beacon I opens up the door, pitiful Is he in critical? Retaliation for this one won't be minimal Cuz I'm a criminal Way before the rap shit Bust the gat shit Puff won't even know what happened, If it's done smoothly Silencers on the Uzi Stash in the hooptie My alibi, any cutie With a booty that done fuck the Pop Head spinnin, reminiscin bout my man C-Rock Chorus: repeat 2X Somebody's got ta die If I got, you got ta go Somebody's got to die Let the gunshots blow Somebody's got to die Nobody got ta know That I killed yo ass in the mist, kid Verse Two: Fillin clips he explained our situation Precisely, so we know exactly what we facin Some kid named Jason In a Honda station wagon Was braggin About how much loot and crack he stackin Rock had a grip so they formed up a clique Small crew 'Round the time I was locked up with you True indeed But yo nigga let me proceed Don't fill them clips too high Give them bullets room to breathe Damn where was I? Yeah One night in town Blew the fuck up D-Rock went home And Jay got stuck the fuck up Hit 'em twice Got 'em right for the virgin white Pistol whipped his kids And taped up his wife He said "Yo Rock, set em up", no question Wet em up no less Than 50 shots in his direction How many shots? Man nigga, I seen mad holes What kinda gats? Hitch links, Cocks, and Calicoles But fuck that I know where all them niggas rest at In the buildin hustlin And they don't be strapped Supreme in black Is downstairs, the engine runnin Find a bag to put the guns in And c'mon if yo comin Chorus Verse Three: Exchanged hugs and pounds before the throw down How its gonna go down Lay these niggas low-down Slow down Fuck all that plannin shit Run up in they cribs And make em catch the man n shit See niggas like you do ten year bids Miss the niggas they want And murder innocent kids Not I One niggas in my eye That's Jason Ain't no slugs gonna be wasted Revenge I'm tastin at the tip of my lips I can't wait to feel my clip in his hips Pass the chocolate Thai Sing ain't lie There's Jason with his back to me Talkin to his faculty I start to get a funny feelins Put the mask on in case his niggas start squealin Scream his name out Squeeze six knuckles shorter Nigga turned around holdin his daughter |
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3:50 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Hah, sicka than your average Poppa
Twist cabbage off instinct niggaz don't think shit stink pink gators, my Detroit players Timbs for my hooligans in Brooklyn Dead right, if the head right, Biggie there ery'night Poppa been smooth since days of Underroos Never lose, never choose to, bruise crews who do something to us, talk go through us Girls walk to us, wanna do us, screw us Who us? Yeah, Poppa and Puff (ehehehe) Close like Starsky and Hutch, stick the clutch Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M-3 (Take that, take that, take that, haha!) Bang every MC easily, busily Recently niggaz frontin ain't sayin nuttin (nope) So I just speak my piece, (c'mon) keep my piece Cubans with the Jesus piece (thank you God), with my peeps Packin, askin who want it, you got it nigga flaunt it That Brooklyn bullshit, we on it Chorus: sung in imitation of part of Slick Rick's "La-Di-Da-Di" Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hypnotize) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (hah) [Verse Two] I put hoes in NY onto DKNY (uh-huh) Miami, D.C. prefer Versace (that's right) All Philly hoes, dough and Moschino (c'mon) Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi (haaaaah!) Now who's the real dookie, meanin who's really the shit Them niggaz ride dicks, Frank White push the sticks on the Lexus, LX, four and a half Bulletproof glass tints if I want some ass Gon' blast squeeze first ask questions last That's how most of these so-called gangsters pass At last, a nigga rappin bout blunts and broads Tits and bras, menage-a-tois, sex in expensive cars I still leave you on the pavement Condo paid for, no car payment At my arraignment, note for the plantiff Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement (shhh) Face it, not guilty, that's how I stay filthy (not guilty) Richer than Richie, till you niggaz come and get me Chorus: Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (huh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hypnotize) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) [Verse Three] I can fill ya wit real millionaire shit (I can fill ya) Escargot, my car go, one sixty, swiftly Wreck it buy a new one Your crew run run run, your crew run run I know you sick of this, name brand nigga wit flows girls say he's sweet like licorice So get with this nigga, it's easy Girlfriend here's a pen, call me round ten Come through, have sex on rugs that's Persian (that's right) Come up to your job, hit you while you workin (uhh) for certain, Poppa freakin, not speakin Leave that ass leakin, like rapper demo Tell them hoe, take they clothes off slowly Hit em wit the force like Obe, dick black like Toby (Obe... Toby) Watch me roam like Gobe, lucky they don't owe me Where the safe show me, homey.. (say what, homey) Chorus: Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hypnotize) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid *fades* |
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4:46 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Kick In The Door
Welcome back. *audience applauds* We're here on Bad Boy television, and I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper. And quite frankly -- he's very mad. We're gonna TRY to find out why; so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience. Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name, and where you're from. Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle and, I just don't understand, why you so mad. (yo, yo) Like what are you so mad about? (yo, yo, y-y-yo) You wanna know why, yo first of all, yo first of all you can't be askin me no question knowhatI'msayin who the fuck is you? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper.) YouknowhatI'msayin? You can't be askin me no question (It's a family oriented show.) I'ma tell you why I'm mad, youknowhatI'msayin? I'ma tell you why I'm mad. I'ma tell you why I'm mad. These niggaz is makin five hundred thousand dollar videos, yunusayin? They drivin around in hot cars, yunusayin? They got bitches, they got all that shit. (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language.) YouknowhatI'msayin? I'm still livin with my MOMS, youknowhatI'msayin? That's my word. Yunusayin? I'm makin records I ain't made no money yet I done made this is my fourth album yo, this my FOURTH ALBUM. I ain't made a dime yet. This nigga made one album, he makin wild records. That Ready to Die shit, it was aight, it was aight, yunumsayin, that shit was aight, it was cool. But my shit is more John Blaze than that! I got John Blaze shit. And they not recognizing, they not sayin I recognize. And fuck is that, who is you to be askin me questions, youknowhatI'msayin? Who is you? *Mad Rapper fades out* [cut and scratched "I gots to talk. I gotta tell what I feel. I gotta talk about my life as I see it!"] Intro: repeat 2X ('Biggie' repeats every line of beat) This goes out to you This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you Verse One: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan Its that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White in tank-light totes, tote iron Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin Keep extra clips for extra shit Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap The mo shady, "Tell em!", Frankie baby Ain't no tellin where I may be May see me in D.C. at Howard Homecomin with my man Capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin You should know my steelo Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show to orgies with hoes I never seen befo' so, Jesus, get off the Notorious penis, before I squeeze and bust If the beef between us, we can settle it With the chrome and metal shit I make it hot, like a kettle get You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya? You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure Biggie, "How are you gonna do it?" Chorus: repeat 4X Kick in the door, wavin the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more Verse Two: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death Should I start your breath should I let you die In fear you start to cry, ask why Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick You cursed it, but rehearsed it I drop unexpectedly like bird shit You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them Son, I'm surprised you run with them I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click Take trips to Cairo, layin with yo bitch I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick When I see ya I'ma Chorus Verse Three: This goes out for those that choose to use Disrespectful views on the King of NY Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye Now ya Braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson Tote steel like Bronson, vigilante You wanna get on son, you need to ask me Ain't no other king in this rap thing They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren One shot, they disappearin Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit Took home, Ready to Die, listened, studied shit Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly make the white shake, thats why my money never funny And you still recoupin, stupid *echoes* |
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5:45 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Uhh
I like that, you like that? Heh Here's another one And another one And another one And another one Uhh, what, what? *You must be used to me spendin And all that sweet winin and dinin Well I'm fuckin you tonight Here's another one And another one Uhh, uhh, what? Some say the x, make the sex Spec-tacular, make me lick you from yo neck To yo back, then ya, shiverin, tongue deliverin Chills up that spine, that ass is mine Skip the wine and the candlelight, no Cristal tonight If its alright with you, we fuckin (that's alright) Deja vu, the blunts sparked, finger fuckin in the park Pissy off Bacardi Dark Remember when I used to play between yo legs You begged for me to stop because you know where it would head Straight to yo mother's bed At the Mariott, we be lucky if we find a spot Next to yo sister, damn I really missed the way she used to rub my back, when I hit that Way she used to giggle when yo ass would wiggle Now I know you used to suites at the Parker Meridian Trips to the Carribean, but tonight, no ends *Repeat (x2) Girl you look fine, like a windface Rolex, you just shine I like that waistline Let me hit that from behind, which wall you wanna climb My styles genuine, girl I love you long time I got you pinned up, with yo fuckin limbs up All because you like the way my Benz was rimmed up Bitch keep yo shin up, please watch me do thee Nasty, like it when you make it move fast mommy I like it when you tro' it pon me No love makin, strictly back breakin Ceas' know, all his hoes, go to my door Then they go to his flo', to fuck some more So no, caviar, sharp bar, uh uh Strictly sex that's pretty and left over spaghetti I know you used to slow CD's and Don P's But tonight its eight tracks and six-packs while I hit that *Repeat (x2) Lets stop the bullshit baby Let me take you to the stop, get you hot So you wanna be with me, Puff Daddy B.I.G., bring that ass to me *Repeat |
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4:20 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
*Can I live til my last day
Hittin honies that be na-sty Gettin money in the fast way And I only care halfway But I still can't let you pass me Yo what's beef to you, three niggaz with hoodies and bats That ain't shit compared to one small cat with gats When we came here we cut off all kind circulation Breathin, eatin, the whole situation When we do our shit we do our shit for real While you take your money for your deal and make your own beats Compose your own sheets, that's aight but chill I'ma spend that mil and cop only hot shit Rock top shit you know how The Lox get Then you can see me flyin in the Bentley cockpit Lox and B-I, hold our grica down for years Gang not, but we been had our black tears Niggaz under the stairs only understand what we got Underground, all above must get shot You couldn't book me Dano, see Luciano put the burners to all y'all, what nigga bring it I'm callin y'all You already know what it's about when I run up in your house Put the gun up in your mouth and get the money out the couch Hearin you out is senseless, perhaps for instance I give this faggot a french kiss Black gloves, no prints, dark tints Word on the street they ain't heard from him since You know about life after kicked the kid in Since me and my mi-dan can flip seven gri-dams Scri-dam the flow is forbidd-en Either you ridin or you dyin cause we swingin iron Lox and Poppa, turning niggaz into Jim Hoffa Who gon stop us, it's your last joint double copper You gettin money or your runnin from the Feds Ain't nothin over here but sixteen and one in the head And I solemnly swear That all y'all niggaz out there got a problem this year *Repeat (x2) Before you think of keepin me down, heatin me down The flow like water get deepe and you drown with no soul, many niggaz roll with no dough Even the small Dunn got a little black hole Your destiny is somethin you can never figure out Niggaz is never happy til there's blood up in your mouth There's a lot of killers, but who the hell are you to play in this? A lot are dead, how the hell you take the pain? Live with it got money you better get with it My man had the thug in him did his bid with it Get married to the game but never have a kid with it Advice from the wise, slice the pies Too many schemes divides, when dreams collide Teams provide, war for the street to absorb Stashed in the ceiling and you slept on the floor Only a blind dove'll fall in love with a whore Uhh, uhh, uhh Who the fuck wanna squeeze? My Desert Ease make MC's freeze You wakin up in cold sweats, they just dreams You still apoligizin, analyzin, my size and your size and realizin, a fist fight would be asinine You just pop wines I must pop nines Genuine steel piece, nozzle in your grill piece You're shook up, two bricks, every cook up We can hook up, all I see is the future Disrespect, I shoot ya By the way, them bricks, get flipped weekly Sold by soldiers that mix weed with the leak leak Die for a dollar nigga, life ain't sweet Play for keeps wet shirts with experts on the creep I be the mob fiance, about to marry it Illegal transactions in Farragut with Arabics Why not, they fit twelve up in the bedroom Imagine what they stash is like, make you a classic like my first LP, beef with me is unhealthy Fuck around and get an ul-cer, loose your pulse or collapsed lung, look how many gats I brung For them homos, still doin promos Break both your legs you're movin slow-mo, got shined to glow mo' Nine hundred and ninety six grams, you need for mo' *Repeat |
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5:12 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Uhh, uhh
Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh Hah, what, I like this Uhh, uhh, I like this What? Uhh, what? Uhh We push the hottest V's, peel fast through the city, play Monopoly with real cash Me and Biggie and the models be, shaking they saditty ass And parotta be, somethin you cats got to see And the watches be all types and shapes of stones Bein broke is childish and I'm quite grown Run up in the club with the ice on, me and Paisan' Scope the spot out, see somethin nice and I'm gone You cats is home, screamin the fight's on I'm in the fifteen hundred seats, watchin Ty-son Same night, same fight But one of us cats ain't playin right, I let you tell it People place yourselves in the shoes of two felons And tell me you won't ball every chance you get and any chance you hit, we live for the moment Makes sense don't it? Now make dollars Cats pop bottles bone chicks that favor Idalis and rack up frequent flier mileage Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I'm poppin Magnums while Jigga bag somethin Watch is platinum, got jet lag from flights back and forth, pop corks of the best grapes Make the best CD's and the best tapes Don't forget the vinyl, take girls break spinals Biggie be Richie like Lionel, shit You seen the Jesus, dipped to H classes Ice project off lights, chick flashes Blind your broke asses, even got rocks in big mustaches Rock top fashions Ain't shit changed, except the number after the dot on the Range, way niggaz look at me now, kinda strange I hate y'all too Rather be in Carribean sands with Rachael It's unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal Bitches used to go, "Ewww!" Still tote steel, tryin to see five mil off the sin-gle, for real You ain't fazin the amazin While your gun's raisin, mine is blazin See you on see me all talkin to sweetness Take it for weakness and leave quick Blocker, Roc-a-, Fella, Bad Boy collabo Two MC's with mad dough, ju' know! *I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey(x2) Miracu-lous, pockets stay full Niggaz skip the bull cause we matadors Snatch the P-89's that we pack in the drawers And we, clappin doors in your Acuras Snap like, cameras on amateurs Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks or flaws Erybody got a part to play, back to yours Run up in your crib now, crack your doors Watch the real players live, it's a habit to floss Play the charts like the Beatles, y'all adapt you lost And toast Cristal on behalf of y'all Too bad for y'all, ain't too many as bad as yours truly, do we, we laugh at y'all Little bastards y'all Uhh, uhh We hit makers with acres Roll shakers in Vegas, you can't break us Lost chips on Lakers, gassed off Shaq Country house, tennis courts on horseback Ridin decidin cracked crab or lobster Who say mobsters don't prosper Niggaz is actors, niggaz deserve Oscars Me I'm, critically acclaimed, slug past your brain Reminesce on dames who, coochie used to stink When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places Tito smile everytime he see our faces Cases catch more than outfield-ers Half these rappin cats, ain't seen war Couldn't score if they had point game, they lame Speak my name, I make em dash like Dame *Repeat |
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5:15 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
The Commission
Uncle Paulie, Big Ditti Caesar Leo DeGenero (yeahhh) Charlie Baltimore, Iceberg Slim The most shadiest, Frank Baby We here (do you know what beef is?) We ain't goin nowhere (do you know what beef is?) Uh-uh (ask yourself, do you know what beef is?) Uh-uh, uhh Ha ha ha ha ha, check out this bizarre Rapper style used by me, the B.I.G. I put my key you put your key in, money we'll be seein Will reach the fuckin ceiling, check, check it My Calico been cocked (uh-huh) this rap Alfred Hitchcock Drop top notch playa hating won't stop (uhh) This instant, rappers too persistent Quick to spit Biggie name on shit, make my name taste Like ass when you speak it, see me in the street Your jewelry you can keep it, that be our little secret See me, be |
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0:48 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Yo
C-Gutta where you at? D Rockafella Caesar Leo Degenero Bled C Money SL Uhh... B.I.G. is making this cream Bitches always say what the hell does that mean? B is for the bitches, who can't understand How one fly nigga became a man I is for the way it goes in and out One by one I knocks em out G is for the way the game goes in the gutter Other MC's man they ain't sayin nuthin Rockin on, to the break of dawn Make the bitch give the pussy get the mouth I'm gone What? It ain't no more to it |
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4:17 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
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 Who 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 till 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 *singers come in over this last line* I don't know what, they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see (x2) Yeah yeah, ahaha, 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 I don't know what, they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see (x2) Uhh, uhhh 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 mice 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 oh, 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 I don't know what, they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see (x3) What's goin on? What's goin on? I don't know what, they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see (x3) |
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4:51 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Niggas Bleed
Verse One: Today's agenda Got the suitcase up in the Sentra Go to room 112, tell em Blanco sent ya Feel the strangest If no money exchanges I got these kids in ranges Believe them niggas brainless All they tote is stainless You just remain as Calm as possible, make the deal go thru If not, here's 12 shots, we know how you do Please make yo killins clean Slugs up in between They eyes, like True Lies Kill em and flee the scene Just bring back the coke or the cream Or else, yo life is on the shelf We mean this Frank Them cats we fuckin wit put bombs in yo moms gas tank Lets get this money baby They shady, we get shady Dress up like ladies And burn em with 30 380's Then they come to kill our babies That all out I got gats that blow the wall out Clear the mall out Fuck the fallout Word is Stretch, I bet they pussy The seven digits push me Fuckin real Here's the deal I got a hundred bricks, 14-5 a piece Enough to cock a six by the house on the beach Supply the peeps with Jeeps Brick a piece Capiche? Everybody gettin cream No one considered the leech Think about it now, thats damn near 1 point 5 I kill em all I'll be set for life Frank pay attention These muthafuckas is henchmen Renegades, if you die they still get paid Extra probably, fuck the robbery I'm the boss Promise you won't rob em, I promise But of course you know I had my fingers crossed Chorus: Niggas bleed just like us Picture me bein scared of a nigga that breathe the same air as me Niggas bleed just like us Picture me bein shook We can both pull burners, make the muthafuckin beef cook Niggas bleed just like us Picture a nigga hidin My life in that man hands, while he jus decidin Niggas bleed just like us I'd rather go toe to toe with alla y'all Runnin ain't in my protocol Verse Two: Since it's on, I call my nigga Arizona Ron From Tuscon, push the black Yukon Usually has the slow grooves on Mostly rock the Isley Stupid as a youngin, chose not to move wisely Sharper with game, him and his crooks, caught a ?jooks? Heard it was sweet, bout 350 a piece Ron bought a truck, 2 bricks layed in the cut His peeps got bucked, got locked the fuck up Thats the raw vantage, came back, speakin spanish Lavish habits, two rings, 20 carats Heres a criminal Nigga made America's Most Killed his baby's mother's brother, slit his throat The nigga got bagged with the toast, weeded Took it to trial, beat it Now he feel he undefeated He mean it Nothing To Lose, tattooed around his gun wounds Everything, the game, embedded in his brain And me I feel the same for this money and diamonds Specially if my daughter cryin, I ain't lyin Y'all know the signs Chorus Verse Three: We agreed to go shoot till we silly Because niggas could be hidin in showers with Mac Billy's So I freaked em The telly manager was Puerto Rican Gloria, from Historia, I went to war with her Peeps in 91, stole a gun from her workers And they took drugs, they tried to jerk us We blaze they place, long story Glo seent my face, got shook Thought a nigga was comin for the safe Now she breakin, shut up, 112, whats shakin A jamaican, some bitches I swear They look gay In a black Range Rover |
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4:43 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
I Got a Story to Tell
Who y'all talkin to man? Uhh Check it out, check it out This here goes out to all the niggaz that be fuckin mad bitches in other niggaz cribs thinkin shit is sweet Nigga creep up on your ass, hahaha Live niggaz respect it, check it I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya Even left all my motherfuckin hoes for ya Niggaz think Frankie pussy whipped, nigga picture that With a Kodak, Insta-ma-tak We don't get down like that, lay my game down quite flat Sweetness, where you parked at? Petiteness but that ass fat She got a body make a nigga wanna eat that, I'm fuck witchu The bitch official doe, dick harder than a missile yo Try to hit if she trippin dissapearin like Arsenio Yo, the bitch push a double-oh with the five in front, probably a connivin stunt Y'all drive in front, I'm a peel with her Find a deal with her, she fuck around and steal, huh? Then we all get laced Television's, Versacci heaven, when I'm up in em The shit she kicked, all the shit's legit She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks Nigga tricked ridiculous, the shit was plush She's stressin me to fuck, like she was in a rush We fucked in his bed, quite dangerous I'm in his ass while he playin gainst the Utah Jazz My 112, CD blast, I was past She came twice I came last, roll the grass She giggle, say I don't smoke it on homegrown Then I heard her moan, honey I'm home Yep, tote chrome for situations like this I'm up in his broad I know he won't like this Now I'm like bitch you better talk to him Before this fist put a spark to him Fuck around shit get dark to him, put a part through him Lose a major part to him, arm, leg She beggin me to stop but this cat gettin closer Gettin hot like a toaster, I cocks the toast, uhh Before my eyes could blink She screams out, "Honey bring me up somethin to drink!" He go back downstairs more time to think Her brain racin, she's tellin me to stay patient She don't know I'm, cool as a fan Gat in hand, I don't wanna blast her man But I can and I will doe, I probably chill doe Even though situation lookin kinda ill yo It came to me like a song I wrote Told the bitch gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face Roped the bitch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase Play the cut, nigga comin off some love potion shit Flash the heat on em, he stood emotionless Dropped the glass screamin, "Don't blast here's the stash, a hundred cash just don't shoot my ass, please!" Nigga pullin mad G's out the floor Put stacks in a Prater knapsack, hit the door Grab the keys to the five, call my niggaz on the cell Bring some weed I got a story to tell, uhh... Yo man, y'all niggaz ain't gonna believe what the fuck happened to me. Remember that bitch I left the club with man? Yo, freaky yo. I'm up in this bitch playa this bitch fuckin run them ol mink ass niggaz and shit, I'm up in the spot though. One of them six-five niggaz, I don't know. Anyway I'm up in the motherfuckin spot, so boom I'm up in the pussy, whatever whatever. I sparks up some lye, Pop Duke creeps up in on some, must have been rained out or something *laughing* because he's in the spot. Had me scared, had me scared, I was shook Daddy - but I forget I had my Roscoe on me. Always. You know how we do. So anyway the nigga comes up the stairs, he creepin up the steps, the bitch all shook she sends the nigga back downstairs to get some drinks and shit. She gettin mad nervous, I said fuck that man! I'm the nigga, you know how we do it nigga, ransom note style put the scarf around my motherfuckin face, gagged that bitch up, played the kizzack. Soon this nigga comes up in the spot, flash the Desert in his face he drops the glass. Looked like the nigga pissed on his-self or somethin, word to mother! Ahh fuckit this nigga runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet, start givin me mad papers, mad papers. (I told you that bitch was a shiesty bitch cuz! Word to mother I used to fuck her cousin but you ain't know that! Hahaha. You wouldn't know that shit. Really though.) I threw all that motherfuckin money up in the Prater knapsack. Two words, I'm gone! (No doubt, no doubt... no doubt!) Yo nigga got some lye, y'all got some lye? *conversation fades out* |
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11:27 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997) | |||||
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6:08 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Bone and Biggie, Biggie.
It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie . . . Krayzie: We gonna rock the party [rock the party, party]. Better run and tell everybody [everybody, everybody]. alternating with Layzie: Ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Come on and . . . Bizzy: Get high, get high, get high . . . This is a lake of fire, but I can't even hold on. [Simulated clapping.] Krayzie: Notorious thugs. Layzie: Nothin' but them thugstas. Nothin' but them thugstas [thugstas]. Notorius B.I.G.: Armed and dangerous: ain't too many can bang with us. Straight up weed, no angel dust. Label us notorious thug-ass niggas that love to bust. It's strange to us, y'all niggas be scramblin', gamblin' up in restaurants with mandolins and violins. We just sittin' here tryin' to win, try not to sin, high off weed and lots of gin. So much smoke, need oxygen, steadily countin' them Benjamins. Nigga, you'd should, too, if you knew what this game would do to you. Been in this shit since ninety-two. Look at all the bullshit I've been through: so-called beef with you-know-who, fucked a few female stars or two. Then a blue light, niggas move like Mike, shit, not to be fucked with. Muthafucka, better duck quick, 'cause me and my dogs love to buck shit. Fuck the luck, shit, strictly aim, no aspirations to quit the game. Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your click, squeeze your clip, hit the right one. Pass that weed, I gotsta light one. All them niggas, I gotsta fight one. All them hoes, I gotsta like one. Our situation is a tight one. What you wanna do: fight or run? Seems to me that you'll take B, Bone and B.I.G., nigga, die slowly. I'm a tell you like a nigga told me, cash rules everything 'round me. Shit, lyrically, niggas can't see me. Fuck it. Buy the coke, cook the coke, cut it. Know the bitch, before you caught yourself lovin' it. Nigga, roll the Benz, fuckin' in it. Doesn't it seem odd to you? B.I.G. come through with mobs and crews. Goodfellas down for the Mo Thug crew. Who's the killa: me or you? Puff Daddy: We forgive you, for you know not what you do. Bizzy: Seven A.M. woke in the morning, with Hen and caffiene and green and nicotine. No dough, so pop a couple of those. Little RIPsta, nigga, Mr. Clean make it gleam, deep in my temple, and I go get sentimentally steamed with my instrumelody and heated especially for your team and the forty-five indeed will beam in between the seams, destroy your dreams. You willing to die? We'll see how many flee when I 'cause the scene. We mean mug, Mo Thug, trained to be perfect disciples when it's survival time, die by double-edged sword, triple six rivals spittin' fire, that's the real truth, bitch, breakin' down for lives, my Messiah, better get ready for Armageddon, shoots expired, it's wild. Bless the child, the one that became a man, but them positions' already there, all that I had to do was stare. Test me now, contend, never no surrender, no pretend, pick up my gun in my hand, one of my trusty friend, friends. Hey, open and let 'em see if we're real. We all suited, beg my pardon to Martin, baby, we ain't marchin', we shootin', and daily recrutin'. There's a thug born everyday in the ghetto. We start 'em off little, we give 'em a bottle and a pen and pad. They hit the label, kick it. Krayzie: Little Kray roll on over to the dark spot, to the dome with a shot of burb, now me go back to the curb. Me feelin' that urge to splurge, but I'm broke as fuck. "Sin, gimme that Mossberg swerve." Off into my pad, 'cause I gotta get my mask and shells to put in this twelve-gauge sawed-off, get 'em mauled off, nigga, y'all lost. They get hauled off. Got a nigga callin', though, for the pump, now Leatherface, Sin runnin', thuggin' and cuttin', Lil' Mo! Hart quick to pull it, ain't nothin'. Bitch, if you're steppin', we're buckin' them guts. That's fucked up. Now let me get down for the crime. Got to go purchase a dime, put in the state, nigga double the crime, smokin' the reefer to ease my mind. Swig some wine, step on the block with the rocks, but really me servin' 'em dummies, see. Gotta buck 'em on down, if they come talkin' like, "Give me back me money." Thuggin' with me killas, need us a liter of liquor, but niggas ain't got shit, but a sawed-off pump, chrome .38 pistol, now who ready to get back? Nigga like me fiendin' for them green leaves, but I ain't had no dough. Gotta make some money, so I makin' my dummy rocks, if I go broke. It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie. It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie . . . Krayzie: We gonna rock the party [rock the party, party]. Better run and tell everybody [everybody]. alternating with Layzie: Ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Come on and . . . Bizzy: Get high, get high, get high . . . Layzie: [Yeah.] Little Lay, hey, comin' in the form of scripture, fin to get ya and hit ya with magic, drivin' out late, but I call on my gadgets. With an automatic status, we spray. Time to load the glocks, but I'm thinkin' not, there's another evil force tellin' me to do what I gotta do, so I up my pipe, a nigga dyin' tonight, and I'm always runnin' from the boys in blue, biggy-blue's on my ass. Now, I whip out the cellular phone to call Bone, "What's happenin'? Grab artillery. Niggas start packin', 'cause a muthafucka tried to get me in a jackin', and I did him." Hit 'em right between the eyes. The spot was wise. Wanna test a nigga's size, and it cost him. Nigga fuck around with the wrong shit, y'all get mo mudered all day, all day. We can play that way, and I'm on the run. I'm a call my boys, and bring all the guns. Y'all niggas wanna have a little fun with #1, bloody red, redrum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, bloody red, redrum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, bloody red, redrum. Bizzy: It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie. It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie . . . Krayzie: We gonna rock the party [rock the party, party]. Better run and tell everybody [everybody]. alternating with Layzie: Ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Come on and . . . Bizzy: Get high, get high, get high . . . |
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4:59 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Fam, you know wha I'm sayin? (No doubt man)
The motherfuckin shit just get me so motherfuckin mad cause you know, that was my nigga, you know, and like I had just got the nigga Puff card and shit (yeah) I knew the shit was bout to go down, and my man was like hypin me bout everywhere we go, me and O (Pluggin it) Me and O be together And the nigga be like "Watch, I'm tellin you when my man get on, it's gonna be some shit; we ain't gonna have to sell this shit no mo', I'm tellin you" (Aight?) And the nigga just got moked out like that man (Tch) That shit fucked me up man (That shit fucked a whole lot of niggaz up man) Yo man, I loved that nigga O too (say word) That was my motherfuckin heart Yeah, dedicatin this to my nigga O We miss you nigga Goin out to all the niggas that died in the struggle Word up, shit is real in the field You know, sparkin blunts to all you niggaz Word up Each and every day The daydreams of how we used to be See your family And that baby's lookin just like you Why'd you go away I've been missin you lately Tell me what you're goin through, oh yeah I remember sellin three bricks of straight flour Got my man a beat down to the third power He didn't care, spent the money in a half hour Got some fishscale, rained on competition like a shower Got the coke cooked up, a crackhead Kevin In eighty-eight, when Kane ruled, with Half Steppin A thirty-eight, a lot of mouth, was our only weapon We was king till the G's crept in And now I'm missin em *Ooh, I'm missin you Tell me why the road turns, why it turns Ooh, I'm missin you Nah nah nah nah nah, oh tell me why why why why We work all week, weekends we play the movies We rock flatops, our girls rocked doobies Made a killin, even though the D's knew me Eventually, you know they try to do me, fuck it Fed up, my nigga wanted to take it down South Sick of cops comin, sick of throwin jacks in his mouth Gave him half my paper, told 'em go that route Few months, he got his brain blown out Now I'm stressed His baby's mother, she trippin, blamin me And his older brothers, understand, the game it be Kinda topsy turvy; you win some, you lose some Damn, they lost a brother - they mother lost a son Fuck, why my nigga couldn't stay in NY? I'm a thug, but I swear for three days I cried I look in the sky and ask God why Can't look his baby girls in the eye Damn I miss you *Repeat There was this girl around the way that make cats drool Her name's Drew, played fools out they money in pool People swore we was fuckin but we was just cool She used to hang while I slang my drugs after school She'd watch my bomb, help my moms with the groceries My little sister, the girl was kinda close to me A little closer than the average girl's supposed to be Far from a lover, my girl was jealous of her Then she started messin with some major players Handled keys, niggas called them the Bricklayers A dread kid, had a baby fore that bitch Taya Found out her baby's father cheatin, now Drew she gotta slay her One night, across from the corner store Taya ran around the block with a chrome four-four Squeezed all six shots in the passenger door The dude lived, what my baby had to die for We missin her *Repeat |
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4:15 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Yeah... fuck you
Fuck you too! Fuck you bitch Fuck you motherfucker You ain't shit anyway, fuck you You ain't shit, you fat motherfucker Yeah, whatever whatever Whatevah You wasn't sayin that when you was suckin my dick You wasn't sayin that when you was eatin my pussy! You a nasty motherfucker! Check it, uhh Crab ass *What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue? You cut that hooker off and find someone new I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life Uh-huh, uhh, uhh I know he don't treat you like I treat you Time to explain your game is see-through Sex is lethal, I ain't gon' lie Means to get ya back, I ain't gon' try Like this y'all, my girl sucked anotha nigga dick y'all Light skinned with the chromed out six y'all Thought they was creepin, took trips to V-A every third weekend While you was sleepin, he hit you on the box Sixty-nine code non-stop Shoulda left ya then, but my heart said not You knew too much, the relationship grew too much You knew about the crack vials, means to be trialed Way I hid dough under the bathroom tile Waited for a while, thought you was my right thing Then things got frightening Peep the scene, sorta like Sam Rothstein Guess you Ginger, huh, go figure Never thought you could be a gold digger Take my dough and spend with the next nigga Asked my man Trigga, my ace boom coon Told me cut the bitch off 'fore the shit balloon Now I'm like Brandy, "Sittin in My Room" Pissy drunk listenin to Stylistic tunes Or the O'Jays, thinkin bout the old days My nigga's like, "Fuck that bitch, go play Baller, did she beep you? Don't call her Guess who I seen, that freak bitch Paula She was askin bout ya whereabouts Here's the digits, I know you can wear that out Tear that out the frame, ya game so tight You'll be all fuckin night" **What do ya do when your man is untrue? Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new? I need another man, in my life Mmm, uhhh, uhhh! Member when you said you would die for me, shit All of that was just lies to me Motherfucker shoulda never said bye to me Now you cry for me, like Jodeci It's like that y'all, my nigga hit another bitch from the back y'all Black nasty and mad fat y'all; shoulda seen the hoe Nigga pack ya shit, tou out the do', ohh What about the fight in the Mirage? I seen ya Benz, parked outside my sister's garage Said it was ya friend Rog, bullshit I ain't gonna keep puttin up wit the bullshit And still I, never sweat these bitches who be hanged like plaques on the wall and ya pictures Scalin fishes, my love is concrete Stashin ya heat in the passenger seat of the Nautica Jeep, we've been down for so long Still a bitch like me tryin to hold on Teary eyed, damn a bitch steamin Girls steady screamin, "Kim you need to leave him!" When I testified in court Couldn't think straight thinkin bout the bitches I fought over you, nigga half the shit you bought And fuck you, movin is my last resort You see nine outta ten niggaz, ain't shit One outta five niggaz suck a dick Ya mad at me, too bad she ain't as bad as me Choulda kept the freak bitch off my canape Now you see, ain't no pussy warm as mine Long as mine, ain't no love as strong as this When I sucked ya dick, it's like smokin a roach Uhh, why go from first class to coach? *Repeat **Repeat *Repeat **Repeat |
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5:07 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
*phone number being dialed*
*phone rings three times* Yo! Yo Big wake up wake up baby Mmm, yo... Yo Big wake yo' ass up c'mon I'm up! I'm up. *mumbling* I'm up I'm up Big, wake up! I'm up baby, what the fuck, man? What's up? C'mon now it's a quarter to six we got the 7:30 flight Mmm, *mumbling* yeah Yo Big Big, Big Yeah I hear you dogg, I hear you, alright, 7:30 Yo take down this information Ain't no pen Tell your girl then to remember it or somethin Aight honey, yeah write this down Aight, ummm, flight five-oh-four Five-oh-four Leaving Kennedy *mumbling* Kennedy On the L-A-X Oh! Cali?? No doubt baby, you know we gotta get this paper Ahh, no doubt, aight You aight? I'm up, I'm up Yo Big I'm UP man Flight five-oh-four Alright 7:30 I'ma meet you at the airport California Yeh *phone clicks* When the lala hits ya lyrics just splits ya Head so hard, that ya hat can't fit ya Either I'm witcha or against ya Format venture, back through that maze I sent ya Talkin to the rap inventor Nigga wit the game tight, Bic that flame right Spell my name right, B-I, Double-G, I-E Iced out lights out, me and Cease-a-Leo Gettin head from some chick he know See it's all about the cheddar, nobody do it better Going back to Cali, strictly for the weather Women, and the weed -- sticky green No seeds bitch please, Poppa ain't soft Dead up in the Hood, ain't no love lost Got me mixed up, you drunk them licks up Mad cause I got my dick sucked and my balls licked, forfeit, the game is mine I'ma spell my name one more time, check it Its the, N-O, T-O, R-I, O U-S, you just, lay down, slow Recognize a real Don when you see Juan/one Sippin on booze in the House of Blues *I'm going going, back back, to Cali Cali (x4) If I got to choose a coast I got to choose the East I live out there, so don't go there But that don't mean a nigga can't rest in the West See some nice breasts in the West Smoke some nice sess in the West, y'all niggaz is a mess Thinkin I'm gon stop, givin L.A. props All I got is beef with those that violate me I shall annihilate thee Case closed, suitcase filled with clothes Linens and things, I begin things People start to flash, 818's, 213's 313's, B.I.G. Frequently floss hoes at Roscoe's If I wanna squirt her, take her to Fatburger Spend about a week on Venice Beach Sippin Crist-o, with some freaks from Frisco *Repeat Cali got gunplay, models on the runway Scream Biggie Biggie gimme One More Chance I be whippin on the freeway, the NYC way On the celly-celly with my homeboy Lance Pass hash from left to right Only got five blunts left to light, I'm set tonight Paid a visit to Versace stores Bet she suck until I ain't got no more, only in L.A. Bust on bitches be-lly, rub it in they tummy Lick it, say it's yummy, then fuck yo' man Fuck your plan, is it to rock the Tri-State? Almost gold, 5 G's at show gate Or do you wanna see about seven digits Fuck hoes exquisite, Cali, great place to visit *Repeat (x3) |
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3:24 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
(Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine"
Uhh, it's the ten crack commandments What, uhh, uhh Nigga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huh Can't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weed To my hustlin niggaz Niggaz on the corner I ain't forget you niggaz My triple beam niggaz, word up (Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "TEN" I been in this game for years, it made me a animal It's rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual A step by step booklet for you to get your game on track, not your wig pushed back Rule nombre uno: never let no one know how much, dough you hold, cause you know The cheddar breed jealousy 'specially if that man fucked up, get your ass stuck up Number two: never let em know your next move Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence or violence Take it from your highness (uh-huh) I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips Number three: never trust no-bo-dy Your moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed up Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck she be layin in the bushes to light that ass up Number four: know you heard this before Never get high, on your own supply Number five: never sell no crack where you rest at I don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounce Number six: that god damn credit, dead it You think a crackhead payin you back, shit forget it Seven: this rule is so underrated Keep your family and business completely seperated Money and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitch Find yourself in serious shit Number eight: never keep no weight on you Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs too Number nine shoulda been number one to me If you ain't gettin bags stay the fuck from police (uh-huh) If niggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listen They be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittin Number ten: a strong word called consignment Strictly for live men, not for freshmen If you ain't got the clientele say hell no Cause they gon want they money rain sleet hail snow Follow these rules you'll have mad bread to break up If not, twenty-four years, on the wake up Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up Caretaker did your makeup, when you pass Your girl fucked my man Jake up, heard in three weeks she sniffed a whole half of cake up Heard she suck a good dick, and can hook a steak up Gotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up, uhh Crack king, Frank Blizzard Uhh (Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "Ten" |
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3:58 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Good evening
And for my last hit I'd like to take you back to the classic A-hem, B.I.G. style of course Uhh Playaahh, turn your head round Lay on the ground, you've been robbed Wake up, open the door Lay on the floor, you've been robbed Uhh You know, we need this money And you, yes baby, you, should just roll with me Let's go off, together On this robbin spree, we'll make money Uhh Playaahh, turn your head round Take off that crown, you've been robbed Wake up, open the door Don't cry no more, you've been robbed You see, there are two kind of people in the world today We have, the playaz, and we have, the playa haters Please don't hate me because I'm beautiful baby Hear what they talk, about me But my crew so deep, you can't do, a damn thing, to me Playahh, open the door Lay on the floor, you've been robbed Wake up (wake your ass up), take off your jewels You fuckin fools, you've been robbed (this is a robbery nigga) Playahh playahh (hater), Playahh playahh (hater) Playahh playahh (hater), Playahh playahh (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Uhh, thank you... thank you very much *applause* Thank you thank you far too kind, far too kind Thank you, thank you very much Good night everybody, good night! I love all of you, thank you thank you Thank you, thank you very much Good night! |
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5:34 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
[Notorious B.I.G. conversating with someone]
Yeahh, worrd I remember I met this one bitch Cause you know me I don't see how I'm the nasty motherfucker I just thought I thought I'da did anything in the world (yeh?) I meets this one bitch, I comes up in the spot, or whatever The bitch got the candles lit or whatever, so She tell me whatever she wanna get her freak on whatever So I'm like WHASSUP whatchu wanna yaknahmsayin I'm read to wear it out or whatever (kssss) The bitch told me she wanted me to shit on her! (*laughing*) Ya know shit I was like whatchu mean shit? I mean I might shit on you after I, hit it I won't call you no more Shit on you like that (*more laughing*) She talkin about no she want me to cock over her And shit, on her stomach! (*laughing through his teeth*) I said bitch what the, what the fuck?? What the fuck I'm sposed to do after I after I shit on her I'm sposed to hit that after that? She's just wilding out so after I shits on the bitch right (*both start laughing*) Ya know I shit, after I shits on the bitch The bitch, ya know, washed that shit off or whatever (Ohhh shit!) [Puff Daddy] Come on, yeah (repeat 10X) Uhh, I go, on and on and on and then take her to the crib and let your bone in Easy, call em on the phone and platinum Chanel cologne and I stay, dressed, to impress Spark these bitches interest Sex is all I expect if they watch TV in the Lex, they know They know, quarter past fo' Left the club tipsy, say no mo' except how I'm gettin home, tomorrow Caesar drop you off when he see his P.O., uhh Back of my mind I hope she swallow (uh-huh) Man She split a drink on my cream Wallows Reach the gate, hungry just ate Riffin, she got to be to work by eight This must mean she ain't tryin to wait Conversate, sex on the first date I state "You know what you do to me" She starts, "Well but I don't usually" then I, whipped it out, rubber no doubt Step out, show me what you all about Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse Pull your G-string down South, aoowww Threw that back out, in the parking lot By a Cherokee and a green drop-top And I don't stop, until I screw Jeans skirt butt-naked it all work [Chorus] I remember we, went to Tennessee Then we came home, mad messages was on my phone Bitch named Symone Screamin, she feenin, for the semen Me bein, the man that I am Took it to her condo, pronto Half indian, I called her Tonto Roll the chron'chron' in the dark pronto Few puffs, eyes got low and off to the bedroom we go (*mmmmmm*) Sex is drama, head to trauma Rip pajamas, I'ma stay 'til tomorrow Satisfyin all my needs twice With the whipped cream, handcuffs and ice The bitch is nice, word is bond Can't wait to put my niggaz on, what, what? [Chorus] Ladies, my Mercedes Hold fo' in the back, two if it's fat Keep a gat, cause cats, try to test me They just fans like DeNiro, Wesley Let's see, the bitch I'm waitin on Gaudy years teens look like they painted on Ask thee, leave it up to me Lay her on back ever so gently She like the way the dope fold up, Rolls roll up Cristal just throw up, bitch grow up Hold up, there's DeGenero Dripped out, iceberg Capero Intro goes without speaking Call me Caese cause I keep em, we can go freakin all weekend, so, roll in Ain't it good that my Lex keeps foldin? Uhh [Chorus] |
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5:29 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
[Notorious B.I.G.]
Good evenin ladies and gentlemen How's everybody doin tonite? I'd like to welcome to the stage, the lyrically acclaimed, ha I like this young man, because, when he came out he came out wit the phrase, he went from ashy to classy Ha, I like that So everybody in the house, give a warm, round of applause for The Notorious B.I.G. *clapping* The Notorious B.I.G. ladies and gentlemen give it up for him ya'll Uhhh A nigga never been as broke as me, I like that When I was young I had two pair of Lees, besides that The pin stripes and the gray (uh-huh) The one I wore on Mondays and Wednesdays While niggas flirt, I'm sewing tigers on my shirt and alligators Ya wanna see the inside, huh, I see ya later Here come the drama, oh, that's that nigga wit the fake, blaow! Why you punch me in my face, stay in ya place Play ya position, here come my intuition Go in this nigga pocket Rob him while his friends watchin That hoes clockin, here comes respect His crew's your crew, or they might be next Look at they man eye, BIG man they never try So we roll wid em, stole wid em I mean loyalty, niggaz bought me milks at lunch The milks was chocolate, the cookies, buttercrunch In here, eyes crossed from blue and white dust Pass the blunt [112] Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want [Notorious B.I.G.] Uh-huh, I was a shame, my crew was lame I have enough heart for most of em Long as I got stuff from most of em It's on, even when I was wrong I got my point across They depicted me the boss, of course My orange box-cutter make the world go round Plus I'm fuckin, bitches ain't my homegirls now Start stackin, dabbled in crack, gun packin Nickname Medina, make the seniors tote my ninas From gym class, to Englass, pass off a global The only nigga wit a mobile, Can't You See like Total Gettin larger in waist and taste Ain't no tellin where this felon is headin, just in case Keep a shell at the tip of ya melon, clear da space Ya brain was a terrible thing ta waste Eighty-eight long gates, snatch initial name plates Smokin spliffs wit niggaz, real life beginner killers Prayin God forgive us for being sinners, help us out [112] Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want [Notorious B.I.G.] After realizin, to master enterprisin I ain't have ta be in school by ten, I was in Began to encounter, wit my counter-parts On how ta burn the block apart, break it down into section Drugs by the selection Some use pipes, others use in-jec-tions Syringe sold seperately, Frank the deputy Quick to grab my Smith-n-Wessun, like my dick was missin To protect my position, my corner, my layer While we out here, say the hustlas prayer If the game shakes me or breaks me I hope it makes me a better man Take a better stand Put money in my moms hand Get my daughter this college plan, so she don't need no man Stay far from timid Only make moves when ya heart's in it And live the phrase Sky's The Limit Motherfucker... see you chumps on top [112] Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want ... Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want... |
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4:55 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
"Make it hot" - Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 4X)
The world is filled, with pimps and hoes We'll just talk about those I knows The world is mine, can't you see I'm just trying to be all I can be Ohhahhoahh, yeah Verse One: Puff Daddy Now first come the cash, then come the ass Then come big blunts with big chunks of hash When I score with a whore she be game for sure Pimp so hard, a nigga drag his mink on the floor Won't you admit it? I ain't gotta talk because I live it Any chick fuckin with me, believe me that's a privelege I won't be satisfied, till all my niggaz get it See you hit it then I hit it, we get it back to split it And Big be that nigga we be flyin through your hood And hoodrats scopin with they eyes on my goods See we date em like we hate em, see em like we don't need em Treat em like we meet em, and never give up freedom And we only give our number to selected few And it's best that you, never knew, what good head'll do Turn a freak to a bisexual and if she's flexible fuck the nigga next to you "Make it hot" - Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 4X in the background) The world is filled, with pimps and hoes But we'll just talk about those I knows The world is mine, can't you see I'm just trying to be all I can be Ohhahhoahh, yeah Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G. When the Remi's in the system, ain't no tellin Will I fuck em will I diss em, that's what these hoes yellin I'm a pimp by blood, not relation Y'all still chase on, I'll replace on, punks Drunk of Dom, silk and gators Spittin words makin birds till they flock see you later Whether, drunk or high, skunk or thai Nigga play against some playa shit, slugs gon fly Ain't no lie, pimped out, the SSI Nigga don't ask why, just respect it She bought me the necklace, the bracelet The Benz-o, she laced it Crib-o, got it, interior decorated Now my popularity grew, in each state Now I got two in each state Used to drink brew and eat steak Now I pop bottles with models, larger steaks on large estates "Make it hot" - Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 4X in background) The world is filled, with pimps and hoes But we'll just talk about those I knows The world is mine, can't you see I'm just trying to be all I can be Ohhahhoahh, yeah Verse Three: Too $hort I had a whole lotta bitches in my lifetime I been blessed with the game always say the right lines Had a few prostitues and if you knew the truth They're like pimps, you can't let em do it to you She ain't no sucker, I know that bitch man She wanna be a Pretty Woman lovin a rich man Now here you come, drop top ridin You ain't no pimp fake nigga stop lyin Pussy makes money, stick to the business Think about the real motherfuckers that live it Street life, pimp shit, make the hoe respect the game You bought her diamonds and cars, trick that's a shame Say what you want, but I still figured She left you cause you couldn't be, like them real niggaz She was a hustler by nature, and you was just faker than the average symps, found a badder pimp Too $hort Crazy ass man I never woulda bought that bitch all them cars and all that shit you bought that hoe man After I heard about what the bitch did nigga, knew the hoe! Man I'm thirty years old nigga And that bitch was hoein when I was in 9th grades and shit Think about that, she been around then right? Shit... you just a rest haven for hoes man Just the first nigga that came along when the bitch got out the pen Bitch only fuckin witchu cause you had a good ass job, nigga nerd Treat the bitch better than anybody ever treated her Stupid ass nigga She ain't nuttin but a hoe! Bet you fell in love with her man! You can't turn a hoe into a housewife fool Everytime you turn your back that bitch is fuckin with dem gangstas Eastside Westside these are my potnahs Do that shit, you know what I'm talkin bout nigga I tell you about some real pimps and hoes Tell you about these pimps and these hoes man, yeah I know a few Shit, beyotch! |
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5:27 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
*phone rings*
*phone rings* [B.I.G.] Yo *heavy breathing* [B.I.G.] Sup hello? *heavy breathing* [B.I.G.] Faith? Motherfucker *click* *phone rings* [B.I.G.] Yo Kill you motherfucker (voice speaking to Biggie is whispering throughout) [B.I.G.] Hello? Kill you motherfucker [B.I.G.] *sarcastically* WORD? I'm gonna get you motherfucker you better watch your motherfuckin back That's my word nigga [B.I.G.] Get the fuck outta here Better watch your motherfuckin abck [B.I.G.] Watch my back? WORD? I'm gonna get Biggie, I'm gonna kill Biggie [B.I.G.] You soft dude, you soft Fuck all you niggaz, you all ain't SHIT Watch your motherfuckin back [B.I.G.] Eat a dick *click* Jealousy's a motherfucker, you weak jealous motherfuckers! If you a jealous motherfucker, you just a weak motherfucker! See when you on top, motherfuckers just wanna bring you down! Motherfuckers don't even know you, and they don't like you... [Notorious B.I.G.] Uhh, I dreams filthy My moms and pops mixed in with Jamaican Rum and Whiskey Huh, what a set up Shoulda pushed em dead off, wipe the sweat off Uhh, cause in this world I'm debtor, squeeze lead off Benz sped off, ain't no shook hands in Brook-land Army fatigue break up teams, the enemies Look man, you wanna see me locked up, shot up Moms crotched up over the casket, screamin BASTARD Cryin, know my friends is lyin Y'all know who killed im filled im with the lugars from they Rugers or they Desert, dyin ain't the shit but it's present Kinda quiet, watch my niggaz bring the riot Giving cats the opposite of diets You gain thirty pounds when you die no lie, lazy eye I was high when they hit me, took a few cats with me Shit, I need the company (uh-huh) Apoligies in order, to T'Yanna my daughter If it was up to me you would be with me, sorta like Daddy Dearest, my vision be the clearest Silencers so you can't hear it Competition still fear it, shit don't ask me I went from ashy to nasty to classy, and still [DMC] That's not all, MC's have the gall To pray and pray for my downfall Pray and pray for my downfall Pray and pray for my downfall [Notorious B.I.G.] This goes out to cats, fingers in they ass again Fifty dollar half-a-men, daydreamin Fuck around get wet like semen, your whole team-and be Mor-gan than Freeman I took the cream and, moved to new places new faces Fuck the screwfaces, when I flip I make the papers, dangerous, we Goodfellas Niggaz can't bang with us, try to do me My crew be unruly (what) To old school cats that call gats toolies Call blacks moolies, think it's cool to smoke woolies And fuck without rubbers (what) specialize in killin wives and grandmothers, who ya trustin, shit When Frank start bustin, Frank start somethin Killin ya gently, God meant me, to push a Bentley Me and Sean Combs takin broads home On the phone with the chip, these Cristal chips bought to make our own porno flicks, my life's the shit [DMC] That's not all, MC's have the gall To pray and pray for my downfall Pray and pray for my downfall Pray and pray for my downfall That's not all, MC's have the gall To pray and pray for my downfall Pray and pray for my downfall Pray and pray for my downfall [Notorious B.I.G.] We used to hold the gold, now we floss with diamonds Niggaz want my team to stop shinin Pray my fame start declinin Whinin like girlies We been around the world twice, moats that'll smoke ice in moonlights, sacrifice your heart Lexus with the automatic start (what) Fifty shots'll tear your club apart Eatin shrimp outta cars, with some bitches from Brussels Eatin clams or mussels Uhh, out the puss (what) pretty face no waist I just want the bush, so I can mack you Give her a package to push, cause I work dem hoes Pendejo's, I show you how to play them hoes Can you just visualize it Before I go to sleep I check the beds and the closet so I can sleep safe, not too many people mill in the briefcase Infrareds help me sleep safe, but wait [DMC] That's not all, MC's have the gall To pray and pray for my downfall Pray and pray for my downfall Pray and pray for my downfall Y'all motherfuckers live off of negativity What y'all niggaz need to get through your motherfuckin heads Is that, y'all fuckin with some niggaz that's on a higher motherfuckin level -- we don't give a fuck About what you think about less how you feel about us What you got to say about us We gon keep doin our motherfuckin thing From now till the year three thousand bitches! You can't breathe, you can't sleep, you can't eat without thinkin about us! Without thinkin about us to the end! We gonna kill you heartless motherfuckers! [DMC] That's not all, MC's have the gall To pray and pray for my downfall Pray and pray for my downfall Pray and pray for my downfall |
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5:18 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
[Puff Daddy]
Mmmmmmmmm-HMM See.. {*echoes*} I told you.. {*echoes*} [Puff]See, I told y'all muh'fuckers [Big]Yo yo.. that stupid nigga man [Puff]I told y'all to stop! [Big]He fucked up, yo.. [Puff]I pray for you to stop [Big]Yo, yo yo yo, yo.. yo.. yo.. Yo, yo yo yo, yo.. [Puff]But no, you didn't stop [Big]Yo.. yo.. [Puff]And now, we won't stop Chorus: sung by Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 2X) Time, time for you to die As I kiss.. yo'.. ass.. goodnight [Notorious B.I.G.] I make yo' mouthpiece obese like Della Reese When I release, you loose teeth like Lil' Cease Nigga please, blood floods yo' Dungarees And that's just the half on my warpath Laugh now cry later, I rhyme greater than the average playa hater, and spectators buy my CD twice; they see me in the streets They be like, "Yo he nice, but that's on the low doe" Be the cats with no dough, tried to play me at my show I pull out fo'-fo's, and go up in they clothes Short-change niggaz, snort-caine niggaz Extortion came quicker, bought the Range nigga Ya still tickle me, I used to be as strong as Ripple be til Lil' Cease crippled me Now I play hard, like my girls nipples be The game sour like like a pickle be, y'all know da rules Move from BK to New Jeruz -- thinkin bout all the planes we flew, bitches, we ran through Now the year's new, I lay my game flat I want my spot back, take two Motherfuckers mad cause I blew, niggaz envious Too many niggaz on my dick, shit strenuous When my men bust, you just move wit such stamina Slugs missed ya, I ain't mad at cha (we ain't mad at cha) Blood rushin, concussions, ain't nothin Catch cases, come out frontin, smokin somethin Sippin White Russians, bitch in the Benz bumpin I laced it wit the basic, six TV's a system Knockin Mase shit, face it, we hard to hit Guard ya shit, 'fore I stick you, for your re-up Wipe the pee up, mixed shots, woke your seed up Go in the ashtray, spark the weed up, LONG KISS Chorus 2X {Puff Daddy - speaking over chorus} Now.. we don't give a fuck.. We just absolutely.. don't give a fuck.. Because.. there ain't no motherfuckin love here.. There ain't no love here.. You know, we.. we just gon' keep doin what we do We gon' keep FUCKIN YOU UP.. And I'ma keep stompin your MOTHERFUCKIN HEAD IN you FUCKIN BITCH, c'mon!! {last line overlaps Biggie's next verse} [Notorious B.I.G.] Uhh.. I'm flamin gats, aimin at, these fuckin maniacs, put my name in raps, what part the game is that? Like they hustle backwards I smoke Blackwoods and Dutchies, ya can't touch me Try to rush me, slugs go, touchy-touchy You're bleedin lovely, wit'chyo, spirit above me or beneath me, your whole life you live sneaky Now you rest eternally, sleepy, you burn when you creep me Rest where the worms and the weak be My nine flies, baptize, rap guys With the Holy Ghost, I put holes in most You hold your toast shaky, slippin tryin to break me Look what you made me do, brains blew My team in the marine-blue, six Coupe Skied it out, weeded out, cleanin out -- the block for distances, givin long kisses BITCH Chorus 2X {Puff Daddy - speaking over chorus} All we have to do now.. is say a prayer for you.. y'know? That's all we have to do, just to pray for your mind.. cause.. Eheh, see your mind got control of your heart.. when it's supposed to be the other way around Your heart's supposed to got control of your mind.. So now, I have no feelings for you You have made me cold.. {last line overlaps Biggie's next verse} [Notorious B.I.G.] Frank White the menacin, Chron Chron's the medicine I got the lettuce and, you turn green like cucumber skin Got the new, Hummer in the summer when I was a new comer then, drugs and mac-10's Hugs from fake friends, make ends they hate you Be broke -- girls won't date you That's why I relate to, choke yo' ass out til your face blue Make you, open the safe too No matter how you call it (how you call it) this brolic, alcoholic .. {*Biggie's chorus fades in*} like his weed green'd out, like his brick solid Distribute to, kids who, take heart like Valentine Drink Ballentine, all the time Slugs hit your chest tap you spine, flatline Heard through the grapevine, you got fucked fo' times Damn that three to nine, fucked you up for real doe Sling steal slow, as for remorse, we feel no Chorus 3X {Puff Daddy - speaking over chorus} See the fucked up thing is that I love you.. yaknahmsayin? It's just in my nature to love you.. I can't hate you.. cause it's not in my nature to hate you.. You know, I don't know.. Maybe.. I'm a different type of individual.. But.. you have me on the line.. and there's a thin line between love and hate And God forbid I cross that line.. Cause y'all not gonna give a fuck I'm tellin you right, MOTHERFUCKIN, NOW!! THE SHIT, Y'ALL DONE STARTED, IS NEVER GONNA STOP!!! WE ARE NEVER GONNA STOP!!! And we not talkin bout.. no other rappers.. We talkin bout YOU motherfucker YOU KNOW, who I'm talkin to.. We comin for you.. We comin for you.. ehehehehheh The shit's gon' feel so good.. I'm gon' make you love me baby {*echoes*} |
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4:53 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil -- for you are with me Your rod and your staff, they comfort me You prepare a table for me, in the presence of my enemies You annoint my head with oil, my cup overflows Surely goodness and love will follow me -- all the days of my life And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever Niggaz in my faction don't like askin questions Strictly gun testin, coke measurin Givin pleasure in the Benz-ito Hittin fanny, spendin chips at Manny's Hope you creeps got receipts, my peeps get dirty like cleats Run up in your crib, wrap you up in your Polo sheets Six up in your wig piece, nigga decease MWA, may you rest in peace With my Sycamore style, more sicker than yours Four-four, and fifty-four draw as my pilot, steers my Leer, yes my dear Shit's official, only, the Feds I fear Here's a tissue, stop your blood clot cryin The kids, the dog, everybody dyin, no lyin So don't you get suspicious I'm Big Dangerous you're just a Lil Vicious As I leave my competition, respirator style Climb the ladder to success escalator style Hold y'all breath, I told y'all -- death controls y'all, Big don't fold y'all, uhh I spit phrases that'll thrill you You're nobody til somebody kills you *You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) Uhh, uhh Watch Casino, I'm the hip-hop version of Nicky Tarantino Ask Nino, he know Green with envy, the green tempts me to make the rich the enemy, and take their cheese Take their spots, take their keys, make my faculty live happily, ever after in laughter Hah, never seen Cristal pour faster And to those bastards, knuckleheads squeeze lead Three of mine dead, nuttin left to do but tear they ass to shreds, leave em in bloodshed Incidents like this I take trips Lay up in Miami with Tamika and Tammy (huh) Some Creole C-O bitches I met on tour Push a peach Legend Coupe, gold teeth galore Told me meet em in the future later, they'll take me shoppin buy me lavender and fuschia Gators Introduce me to playa haters and heavy weighters Rich bitch shit, drinkin Cristal til they piss the shit, uhh Thorough bitches, adapt to any borough bitches Be in spots where they were no bitches, you feel me Reminesce on dead friends too You're nobody til somebody kills you *Repeat (x2) Uhh, uhh You can be the shit, flash the fattest five (that's right) Have the biggest dick, but when your shell get hit You ain't worth spit, just a memory Remember he, used to push the champagne Range (I remember that) Silly cat, all suede in the rain Swear he put the G in Game, had the Gucci frame before Dana Dane, thought he ran with Kane I can't recall his name (what was his name?) you mean that kid that nearly lost half his brain over two bricks of cocaine? Gettin his dick sucked by Crackhead Lorraine A fuckin shame, duke's a lame, what's his name? Darkskin Jermaine, see what I mean? *Repeat (x2) |
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5:02 | ||||
from More Music From 8 Mile (8마일) [ost] (2003) | |||||
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3:33 | ||||
from Bad Boys II (나쁜 녀석들 2) by Trevor Rabin [ost] (2003)
I love niggas I love niggas Cause niggas are me And I should only love that 'presents me I love to see niggas go through changes (Whoooo ) I love to see niggas shoot through shit (Did it again) And to all niggas that do it I love To all my Brooklyn (Niggas ) To all my Uptown (You niggas understand?) To all my Bronx (It's war nigga) To all my Queensbridge (I'll blow you away) Back up chump, you know Biggie Smalls grips it quick And kicks it quick, you know how black niggas get With the hoods fatigues with the boots with trees Smokin weed, flippin ki's, makin crazy G's Hittin' buckshots at niggas that open spots On the avenue, take my loot, and I'm baggin you Pimpin hoes that drive Volvo's and Rodeos Flash the Roll, make her wet, in her pantyhose Damn, a nigga style is unorthodox Grip the glock, when I walk down the crowded blocks Just in case a nigga wanna act out I just black out, and blow they motherfuckin back out That's a real nigga for ya We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho When we smoke spliffs, we pack four-fifths Just in case dread wanna riff He get a free lift to the cemetary, rough very Not your ordinary, we watch you get buried That's a real nigga for ya Get mad do a quarter flip the script, and rip your lawyer Spit at the D.A. cause fuck what she say She don't give a fuck about your ass anyway Up North found first stop for the town of fist-skill, where the hand skills are real ill You'll be a super Hoover doo-doo stain remover Ha hahhh, yo G, pass the ruler We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho When I was young my M.O. was to go hail the Henny And even my P.O. she called me the Ginger Bread Man I cut ya new case, and tell her ass "catch me if you can" Don't let your people feel your awkward I tame I'm not lame Get gassed up to get blast up Real B.I.G. style watch the kid break it down Check it, thou shalt not fuck wit North Seed Papa 50 Cent, I'll break yo ass off propa' This new place like home, New York - New York I run this city, I don't dance around like Diddy Niggas is giddy, till they act smack silly Or spray wit the Mack Milly, they don't want drama really Pushy niggas get hard lip syncing my lyrics like Milly Vanilly Even the hood they feel me {*gun cocked*} hah I'm on fire Niggas out in Philly they feel me, they bump my shit Even bootlegged you know, bump my shit, bitch We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho - |
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3:26 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:57 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
[Verse One]Remember back in the days, when niggaz had wavesGazelle shades, and corn braidsPitchin pennies, honies had the high top jelliesShootin skelly, motherfuckers was all friendlyLoungin at the barbeques, drinkin brewswith the neighborhood crews, hangin on the avenuesTurn your pagers, to nineteen ninety threeNiggaz is gettin smoked G, believe meTalk slick, you get your neck slit quickCause real street niggaz ain't havin that shitTotin techs for rep, smokin blunts in the projecthallways, shootin dice all dayWait for niggaz to step up on some fightin shitWe get hype and shit and start lifin shitSo step away with your fist fight waysMotherfucker this ain't back in the days, but you don't hear me though[Verse Two]No more cocoa leave-io, one two threeOne two three, all of this to me, is a mysteryI hear you motherfuckers talk about itBut I stay seein bodies with the motherfuckin chalk around itAnd I'm down with the shit tooFor the stupid motherfuckers wanna try to use Kung-FuInstead of a Mac-10 he tried scrappinSlugs in his back and, that's what the fucks happeninwhen you sleep on the streetLittle motherfuckers with heat, want ta leave a nigga six feet deepAnd we comin to the wakeTo make sure the cryin and commotion ain't a motherfuckin fakeBack in the days, our parents used to take care of usLook at em now, they even fuckin scared of usCallin the city for help because they can't maintainDamn, shit done changed[Verse Three]If I wasn't in the rap gameI'd probably have a key knee deep in the crack gameBecause the streets is a short stopEither you're slingin crack rock or you got a wicked jumpshotShit, it's hard being young from the slumseatin five cent gums not knowin where your meals comin fromAnd now the shit's gettin crazier and majorKids younger than me, they got the Sky grand PagersGoin outta town, blowin upSix months later all the dead bodies showin upIt make me wanna grab the nine and the shottieBut I gotta go identify the bodyDamn, what happened to the summertime cookouts?Everytime I turn around a nigga gettin took outShit, my momma got cancer in her breastDon't ask me why I'm motherfuckin stressed, things done changed
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5:04 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
Yeah Motherfuckers better know... huh, huh Lock your windows, close your doors Biggie Smalls, huh... yeah (*scratching* "I'm a bad, bad, boy..") My man Inf left a Tec and a nine at my crib Turned himself in, he had to do a bid A one-to-three, he be home the end of '93 I'm ready to get this paper, G, you with me? Motherfucking right, my pocket's looking kind of tight and I'm stressed, yo Biggie let me get the vest No need for that, just grab the fucking gat The first pocket that's fat the Tec is to his back Word is bond, I'm a smoke him yo don't fake no moves (what?) Treat it like boxing stick and move, stick and move Nigga, you ain't got to explain shit I've been robbin motherfuckers since the slave ships with the same clip and the same four-five Two point-blank, a motherfucker's sure to die That's my word, nigga even try to bogart have his mother singing "It's so hard..." Yes Love, love your fucking attitude because the nigga play pussy that's the nigga that's getting screwed and bruised up from the pistol whipping welts on the neck from the necklace stripping Then I'm dipping up the block and I'm robbing bitches too up the herring bones and bamboos I wouldn't give fuck if you're pregnant Give me the baby rings and a #1 MOM pendant I'm slamming niggaz like Shaquille, shit is real When it's time to eat a meal I rob and steal cause Mom Duke ain't giving me shit so for the bread and butter I leave niggaz in the gutter Huh, word to mother, I'm dangerous Crazier than a bag of fucking Angel Dust When I bust my gat motherfuckers take dirt naps I'm all that and a dime sack, where the paper at? (*sample* "But he's sticking you, and taking all of your money..") Gimme the loot, gimme the loot (*scratching* "I'm a bad, bad, boy..") -Big up, big up, it's a stick up, stick up and I'm shooting niggaz quick if you hiccup Don't let me fill my clip up in your back and head piece The opposite of peace sending Mom Duke a wreath You're talking to the robbery expert Stepping to your wake with your blood on my shirt Don't be a jerk and get smoked over being resistant cause when I lick shots the shits is persistent Huh, goodness gracious the papers Where the cash at? Where the stash at? Nigga, pass that before you get your grave dug from the main thug, .357 slug And my nigga Biggie got an itchy one grip One in the chamber, 32 in the clip Motherfuckers better strip, yeah nigga peel before you find out how blue steel feel from the Beretta, putting all the holes in your sweater The money getter motherfuckers don't have better Rolex watches and colourful Swatches I'm digging in pockets, motherfuckers can't stop it Man, niggaz come through I'm taking high school rings too Bitches get *strangled* for they earrings and bangles and when I rock her and drop her I'm taking her door knockers And if she's resistant "baka! baka! baka!" So go get your man bitch he can get robbed too Tell him Biggie took it, what the fuck he gonna do? I hope apologetic or I'm a have to set it and if I set it the cocksucker won't forget it (*sample* "But he's sticking you, and taking all of your money..") Gimme the loot, gimme the loot (*scratching* "I'm a bad, bad, boy..") -Man, listen all this walking is hurting my feet But money looks sweet (where at?) in the Isuzu jeep Man, I throw him in the Beem, you grab the fucking C.R.E.A.M and if he start to scream "bam! bam!", have a nice dream Hold up, he got a fucking bitch in the car Fur coats and diamonds, she thinks she a superstar Ooh Biggie, let me jack her, I kick her in the back Hit her with the gat... Yo chill, Shorty, let me do that Just get the fucking car keys and cruise up the block The bitch act shocked, gettin shot on the spot (Oh shit! The cops!) Be cool, fool They ain't gonna roll up, all they want is fucking doughnuts (So why the fuck he keep lookin?) I guess to get his life tooken I just came home, ain't tryingto see Central Booking Oh shit, now he lookin in my face You better haul ass cause I ain't with no fucking chase So lace up your boots, cause I'm about to shoot A true motherfucker going out for the loot -
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4:16 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
Verse One: So you wanna be hardcore With your hat to the back, talkin bout the gats in your raps But I can't feel that hardcore appeal that you're screamin, baby I'm dreamin This ain't Christopher Williams, still some MC's got to feel one, caps I got to peel some To let niggaz know... that if you fuck with Big-and-Heavy I get up in that ass like a wedgie Says who? Says me, the lyrical Niggaz sayin, "Biggie off the street, it's a miracle" Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me Just for niggaz actin shifty Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat'll kill you quicker Especially when I'm drunk off the liquor Smokin funk by the boxes, packin glocks is natural to eat you niggaz like chocolates The funk baby Chorus (repeats 8X) "I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk" (LOTUG, Chief Rocka) Verse Two: All I want is bitches, big booty bitches Used to sell crack, so I could stack my riches Now I pack gats, to stop all the snitches from stayin in my business, what is this? Relentless approach, to know if I'm broke or not Just cause I joke and smoke a lot Don't mean I don't tote the glock Sixteen shots for my niggaz in the pen Until we motherfuckin meet again Huh, I'm doin rhymes now, fuck the crimes now Come on the ave, I'm real hard to find now Cause I'm knee deep in the beats In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the Mac-10 by the seats For the jackers, the jealous ass crackers in the (car sirens) I'll make you prove that it's bulletproof Hold ya head, cause when you hit the bricks I got gin, mad blunts, and bitches suckin dick The funk baby Repeat chorus Verse Three: So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side How I smoked funk, smacked bitches on the backside Bed-Stuy, the place where my head rests Fifty shot clip if a nigga wan' test The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya High as a motherfuckin helicopter That's why I pack a nina, fuck a misdeameanor Beatin motherfuckers like Ike beat Tina [What's Love, Got to Do] when I'm rippin all through your whole crew Strapped like bamboo, but I don't sling guns I got bags of funk, and it's sellin by the tons Niggaz wanna know, how I live the mack life Making money smoking mics like crack pipes It's type simple and plain to maintain I add a little funk to the brain The funk baby Repeat chorus
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3:41 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
Who the fuck is this?
pagin me at 5:46 in the morning crack a dawn and now I'm yawnin, wipe the cold out my eye see who's this pagin me and why.. It's my nigga Pop from the barbershop told me he was in the gamblin spot and heard the intricate plot >some niggaz wanna stick you like fly paper neighbour slow down love please chill drop the caper >remember them niggaz from the hill up in Brownsville? >that you rolled dice wit >smoked blunts and got nice wit yeah my nigga Fame up in Prospect nah dem my niggaz nah love wouldn't disrespect >I didn't day dem, they schooled me to some niggaz >that you knew from back when, >when you was clockin minor figures >Now they heard you blowin up like nitro > and they wanna stick the knife >through your windpipe slow...so.. >thank Fame for warnin me cuz I'm warnin you >I got the mac Biggie >tell me what you wanna do... [CHORUS] Damn niggas wanna stick me for my paper [VERSE 2] >They heard about the Rolex's and the Lexus >wit the Texas license plates outta state >they heard about the pounds >you got down in Georgetown >now they heard you got half of Virginia locked down >they even heard about the crib >you bought your mom in south Florida >the fifth corridor.... Call the coroner there's gonna be alot of slow singin and flower bringin if my burgular alarm starts ringin whatcha think all the guns is for? all purpose war got the rottweilers by the door and I feed em gun powder so they can devour The criminals tryin to drop my decimals DAMN.. niggaz wanna stick my for my C.R.E.A.M. and the interdream things ain't always what it seems It's the ones that smoke blunts witcha see your picture, now they wanna grab they guns and come and getcha Betcha Biggie won't slip I got the calico with the black talions loaded in the clip So I can rip through the ligaments Put they fuckers in a bad prediciment where all the foul niggas went Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta Fuck with what I had you with you motherfuckers betta duck I bring pain, blood stains on what remains of his jacket, he had a gun he should've packed it Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket so I can reload and explode down ya rasshole I fuck around and get hardcore, C-4 to ya door no beef no more(nigga) Feel the rush, scandalous The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous I dont give a fuck about you or your weak crew What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you im not runnin, nigga I bust my gun in Hold on I hear somebody comin... |
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4:25 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
Yeah... Yeah... (You ready motherfucker?) (We gon' kill your ass) As I grab the glock, put it to your headpiece One in the chamber, the safety is off release Straight at your dome homes, I wanna see cabbage Biggie Smalls the savage, doin your brain cells much damage Teflon is the material for the imperial mic ripper girl stripper the Henny sipper I drop lyrics off and on like a lightswitch Quick to grab the right bitch and make her drive the Q-45, glocks and tecs are expected when I wreck shit Respect is collected, so check it I got techniques drippin out my buttcheeks Sleep on my stomach so I don't fuck up my sheets, huh My shit is deep, deeper than my grave G I'm ready to die and nobody can save me Fuck the world, fuck my moms and my girl My life is played out like a jheri curl, I'm ready to die As I sit back and look when I used to be a crook Doin whatever it took from snatchin chains to pocketbooks A big BAD motherfucker on the wrong road I got some drugs tried to get the avenue sold I want it all from the Rolexes to the Lexus gettin paid, is all I expected My mother didn't give me what I want, what the fuck? Now I got a glock, makin motherfuckers duck Shit is real, and hungry's how I feel I rob and steal because that money got that whip appeal Kickin niggaz down the steps just for rep Any repercussion lead to niggaz gettin wet The infrared's at your head real steady You better grab your guns cause I'm ready, ready I'm ready to die! (Nah we ain't gon' kill your ass yet) (We gonna make you suffer) In a sec I throw the tec to your fuckin neck Everybody hit the deck, Biggie bout to get some wreck Quick to leave you in a coffin, for slick talkin You better act like CeCe, and keep on walkin When I hit ya, I split ya to the white meat You swung a left you swung a right you feel to the concrete Your face, my feet, they meet, we're stompin I'm rippin MC's from Tallahassee, to Compton Biggie Smalls on a higher plane Niggaz say I'm strange deranged because I put the 12 gauge to your brain Make your shit splatter Mix the blood like batter then my pocket gets fatter after the hit, leave you on the street with your neck split down your backbone to where your motherfuckin cheek drip The shit I kick, rip it through the vest Biggie Smalls passin any test, I'm ready to die! I'm ready (Time to go, we gonna put you out your misery motherfucker) Niggaz definitely know what time it is The Notorious one in full effect for ninety-three! Suicidal, I'm ready! (Now I lay me down to sleep) Yeah (Pray the Lord my soul to keep) (If I should die before I wake) (I pray the Lord my soul to take) (Cause I'm ready to die) (All y'all motherfuckers come with me if you want to) (Biggie Smalls the biggest man) (Rockin on and on in ninety-three, Easy Mo Bee) (Third Eye, and the rest of the Bad Boy fam) (I don't wanna see no cryin at my funeral)
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4:43 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
Sound of phone hanging up
*Biggie's daughter: All you hoes, callin' here for my daddy get off his dick. Like that Mommy? (Answering machine beep in between each message and the beat to "One More Chance in the background.) Message 1: Hi daddy, how you doin', this is Tyiest, I was thinkin' about you last night, mmm, you actin' like you can't call me no more cause you busy and all that, but you tryina tell me it wasn't good? Message 2: That shit is real fucked up what you did, I hooked you up wit my girl and shit you fucked her 8 times you see her you don't say SHIT to her you know what I'm sayin? And all that bitch do is call me all day talkin' bout you: "Why the fuck do he don't want me?" Message 3: Yo Big this is Quita, Kenya told me she saw you and Shana in the mall and I know you aint fuckin' her. You fucked with me last night that's my best friend and we don't get down like that. Message 4: Yeah muthafucka this is Stephanie, I was waitin' outside for your ass for like a fuckin' hour, I don't know what's goin on, muthafuckas tryina raw me, you be dissapearin' and shit I'm waitin' in the cold, what the fuck is goin' on, when you get in give me a fuckin' call, alright? When it comes to sex, I'm similar to the thriller in Manila Honeys call me Bigga the condom filler Whether it's stiff tongue or stiff dick Biggie squeeze it to make shit fit, now check this shit I got the pack of Rough Riders in the back of the Pathfinder You know the ep along by James Todd Smith I get swift with the lyrical gift Hit you with the dick, make your kidneys shift Here we go, here we go, but I'm not Domino I got the funk flow to make your drawers drop slow So recognize the dick size in these Karl Kani jeans I'm in thirteens, know what I mean I fuck around and hit you with the Hennessey dick Mess around and go blind, don't get to see shit The next batter, here to shatter your bladder, it doesn't matter Skinny or fat or white-skinned or black, baby I drop These boricua mommies screamin "Aiy papi!" I love it when they call me Big Poppa I only smoke blunts if they roll propa Look, I gotcha caught up in the drunk flow Fuck tae kwon do, I tote da fo'-fo' For niggaz gettin mad cause they bitch chose me A big black motherfucker with g ya see All I do is separate the game from the truth Big bang boots from the Bronx to Bolivia Gettin Physical like Olivia Newt Tricks suck my clique dick all day with no trivia So gimme a hoe, a bankroll and a bag of weed I'm guaranteed to fuck her till her nose bleed Even if your new man's a certified mack You'll get that H-town in ya, you'll want that old thing back Oh Biggie gimme one more chance I got that good dick girl, ya didn't know (Repeat) Is my mind playin tricks, like Scarface and Bushwick Willie D, havin nightmares of girls killin me She mad because what we had didn't last I'm glad because her cousin let me hit the ass Fuck the past let's dwell on the 500 SL, the E and J and ginger ale The way my pockets swell to the rim with Benjamins Another hon's in the crib, please send her in I fuck nonstop, lick my lips alot, used to lick the clits alot But lickin clits had to stop Cause y'all don't know how to act when the tongue go down below Peep the funk flow, really though I got the cleanest meanest penis, ya never seen this stroke of genius So take off your Tim boots and your bodysuit I mean the spandex and hit my man next Sex gettin rougher when it come to the nut buster Pussy crusher, black nasty motherfucker I don't chase em, I replace em and if I'm caressin em, I'm undressin em Fuck whatcha heard who's the best in New York For fillin fantasies without that nigga Mr. Rourke? Or Tattoo I got you wrapped around my dick And when I'm done I got to split shit Back shots is my position, I gotcha wishin for an intermission Fuck the kissin, lickin down to your belly button, I ain't frontin They don't call me B.I.G. for nuttin, all of a sudden Oh Biggie gimme one more chance I got that good dick girl you didn't know (Repeat |
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1:31 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:58 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
I used to get feels on a bitch
Now I throw shields on the dick To stop me from that HIV shit And niggaz know they soft like a Twinkie filling Playin the villian Prepare for this rap killin Biggie Smalls is the illest Your style is played out, like Arnold wondered "What you talkin bout Willis?" The thrill is gone, the black Frank White is here to excite and throw dick to dykes Bitches I like em brainless Guns I like em stainless steel I want the fuckin Fortune like the Wheel I squeeze gats till my clips is empty Don't tempt me [T-H-O-D Man] You don't want to fuck with Biggie 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] 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 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 Welcome to my center Honies feel it deep in they placenta Cold as the pole in the winter Far from the inventor, but I got this rap shit sewed And when my Mac unloads I'm guaranteed another video Ready to die, why I act that way? Pop Duke left Mom Duke The faggot took the back way So instead of makin hoes suck my dick up I used to do stick-up Cause hoes is irritatin like the hic-CUPS Excuse me, flows just grow 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 |
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5:03 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
Yeah this album is dedicated
to all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin' the people that lived above the buildings that I was hustlin' in front of that called the police on me when I was just tryin' to make some money to feed my daughters and all the niggaz in the struggle you know what I'm sayin' it's all good baby bay bee It was all a dream I used to read Word Up magazine Salt'n'Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine Hangin' pictures on my wall Every Saturday Rap Attack Mr Magic Marley Marl I let my tape rock 'til my tape popped Smokin' weed and bamboo sippin' on private stock Way back when I had the red and black lumberjack With the hat to match Remember Rappin' Duke duh ha duh ha You never thought that hip hop would take it this far Now I'm in the limelight 'cause I rhyme tight Time to get paid blow up like the World Trade Born sinner the opposite of a winner Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner Peace to Ron G Brucey B Kid Capri Funkmaster Flex Lovebug Starsky I'm blowin' up like you thought I would Call the crib same number same hood It's all good and if you don't know now you know nigga You know very well who you are Don't let em hold you down reach for the stars You had a goal but not that many 'cause you're the only one I'll give you good and plenty I made the change from a common thief To up close and personal with Robin Leach And I'm far from cheap I smoke skunk with my peeps all day Spread love it's the Brooklyn way The Moet and Alize keep me pissy Girls used to diss me Now they write letters 'cause they miss me I never thought it could happen this rappin' stuff I was too used to packin' gats and stuff Now honies play me close like butter played toast From the Mississippi down to the east coast Condos in Queens indo for weeks Sold out seats to hear Biggie Smalls speak Livin' life without fear Puttin' 5 karats in my baby girl's ears Lunches brunches interviews by the pool Considered a fool 'cause I dropped out of highschool Stereotypes of a black male misunderstood And it's still all good and if you don't know now you know nigga You know very well who you are Don't let em hold you down reach for the stars You had a goal but not that many 'cause you're the only one I'll give you good and plenty Super Nintendo Sega Genesis When I was dead broke man I couldn't picture this 50 inch screen money green leather sofa Got two rides a limousine with a chauffeur Phone bill about two G's flat No need to worry my accountant handles that And my whole crew is loungin' Celebratin' every day no more public housin' Thinkin' back on my one room shack Now my mom pimps a Ac' with minks on her back And she loves to show me off of course Smiles every time my face is up in The Source We used to fuss when the landlord dissed us No heat wonder why Christmas missed us Birthdays was the worst days Now we sip champagne when we thirstay damn right I like the life I live 'Cause I went from negative to positive And it's all and if you don't know now you know nigga You know very well who you are Don't let em hold you down reach for the stars You had a goal but not that many 'cause you're the only one I'll give you good and plenty and if you don't know now you know nigga Representin' B Town in the house Junior Mafia mad flavor You know very well who you are Don't let em hold you down reach for the stars You had a goal but not that many 'cause you're the only one I'll give you good and plenty |
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5:19 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I know how it feel to wake up fucked up Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell People look at you like youse the user Selling drugs to all the losers, mad buddha abuser But they don't know about your stress-filled day Baby on the way mad bills to pay That's why you drink Tanqueray; so you can reminisce and wish, you wasn't livin so devilish, ssshit I remember I was just like you Smokin blunts with my crew, flippin over 62's Cause G-E-D, wasn't B-I-G I got P-A-I-D, that's why my moms hate me She was forced to kick me out, no doubt Then I figured out licks went for twenty down South Packed up my tools for my raw power move Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves for chumps tryin to stop my flow And what they don't know will show on the autopsy Went to see Papi, to cop me a brick Asked for some consignment and he wasn't tryin to hear it Smoking mad Newports cause I'm due in court for an assault, that I caught, in Bridgeport, New York Catch me if you can like the Gingerbread Man You better have your gat in hand, cause man I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I had the master plan I'm in the caravan on my way to Maryland with my man Two-Tecs to take over this projects They call him Two-Tecs, he tote two tecs And when he start to bust he like to ask, "Who's next?" I got my honey on the Amtrak with the crack in the crack of her ass Two pounds of hash in the stash I wait for hon to make some quick cash I told her she could be Lieutenant, bitch got gassed At last, I'm literally loungin black Sittin back, countin double digit thousand stacks Had to re-up; see what's up with my peeps Toyota Deal-a-Thon had it cheap on the Jeeps See who got smoked, what rumors was spread Last I heard I was dead with six to the head Then I got the phone call, it couldn't hit me harder We got infiltrated, like Nino at the Carter Heard Tec got murdered in a town I never heard of by some bitch named Alberta over nickel-plated burners And my bitch swear to God she won't snitch I told her when she hit the bricks I'll make the hooker rich Conspiracy, she'll be home in three Until then I looks out for the whole family A true G, that's me, blowing like a bubble; in the everyday struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I'm seeing body after body and our mayor Guiliani ain't tryin to see no black man turn to John Gotti My daughter use a potty so she's older now Educated street knowledge I'ma mold 'er now Trick a little dough buyin young girls fringes Dealin with the dope fiend binges, seein syringes in the veins; hard to explain, how I maintain The crack smoke make my brain feel so strange Breakin days on the set, no sweat Drunk off Moet, can't bag yet because it's still wet But when that dry, baggin five at a time I can clock about nine on the check cashin line I had the first and the third; rehearse that's my word Thick in the game, D's knew my first name Should I quit? Shit no! Even though they had me scared Yo they got a eight, I gotta teck with air holes.. ..and that's just how the shit go in the struggle motherfucker Hah.. c'mon.. what you say? I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle Uhh, uhh Junior M.A.F.I.A., right (yeah..) (rock on..) (WOO! .. Biggie Smalls .. right ..) -
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4:01 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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4:13 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
To all the ladies in the place with style and grace Allow me to lace these lyrical duches in your bushes Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies The back of the club, sippin Moet, is where you'll find me The back of the club, mackin hoes, my crew's behind me Mad question askin, blunt passin, music blastin But I just can't quit Cause one of these honies Biggie gots ta creep with Sleep with, keep the ep a secret why not Why blow up my spot cause we both got hot Now check it, I got more Mack than Craig and in the bed Believe me sweety I got enough to feed the needy No need to be greedy I got mad friends with Benz's C-notes by the layers, true fuckin players Jump in the Rover and come over tell your friends jump in the GS3, I got the chronic by the tree [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee Straight up honey really I'm askin Most of these niggaz think they be mackin but they be actin Who they attractin with that line, 'What's your name what's your sign' Soon as he buy that wine I just creep up from behind And ask what your interests are, who you be with Things to make you smile, what numbers to dial You gon' be here for a while, I'm gon' go call my crew You go call your crew We can rendezvous at the bar around two Plans to leave, throw the keys to Lil Cease Pull the truck up, front, and roll up the next blunt So we can steam on the way to the telly go fill my belly A t-bone steak, cheese eggs and Welch's grape Conversate for a few, cause in a few, we gon' do What we came to do, ain't that right boo [truuuueee] Forget the telly we just go to the crib and watch a movie in the jacuzzi smoke l's while you do me [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee [How ya livin Biggie Smallz] In mansion and Benz's Givin ends to my friends and it feels stupendous Tremendous cream, fuck a dollar and a dream Still tote gats strapped with infrared beams Choppin o's, smokin live optimo's Money hoes and clothes all a nigga knows A foolish pleasure, whatever I had to find the buried treasure, so grams I had to measure However living better now, Gucci sweater now Drop top BM's I'm the man girlfriend [Honey check it Tell your friends, to get with my friends And we can be friends Shit we can do this every weekend Aight? Is that aight with you? Yeah... keep bangin] [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee
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5:21 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
Nineteen-seventy somethin', nigga I don't sweat the date My moms is late so I had to plan my escape out the skins, in this world of fly girls Tanqueray and Hennessy until I cold hurl Ten months in this gut, what the fuck I wish moms'd hurry up so I could get buck wild, juvenile rippin' mics and shit New York New York, ready for the likes of this, uh Then came the worst date, May 21st 2:19, that's when my momma water burst No spouse in the house so she rode for self to the hospital, to see if she could get a little help Umbilical cord's wrapped around my neck I'm seein' my death and I ain't even took my first step I made it out, I'm bringin' mad joy The doctor looked and said, "He's gonna be a Bad Boy" Now I'm thirteen, smokin' blunts, makin' cream On the drug scene, fuck a football team Riskin' ruptured spleens by the age of sixteen Hearin' the coach scream at my lifetime dream, I mean I wanna blow up, stack my dough up So school I didn't show up, it fucked my flow up Mom said that I should grow up and check myself before I wreck myself, disrespect myself Put the drugs on the shelf? Nah, couldn't see it Scarface, King of New York, I wanna be it Rap was secondary, money was necessary Until I got incarcerated--kinda scary C74-Mark 8 set me straight Not able to move behind the great steel gate Time to contemplate, damn, where did I fail? All the money I stacked was all the money for bail Ninety-four, now I explore new horizons Mama smile when she see me, that's surprisin' Honeys is tantalizin', they freak all night Peep duckin' cops on the creep all night As I open my eyes and realizin' I changed Not the same deranged child stuck up in the game And to my niggas livin' street life Learn to treat life to the best, put stress to rest Still tote your vest man, niggas be trippin' In the streets without a gat? Nah, nigga you're slippin' If I'm pimpin on The F with weed on my breath Original hustler with the muffler on the Tec Respect to the Mac's and the Ac's To the freaks in the Jeeps, lick shots to my peeps -
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3:28 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
[Intro] No... Fuck the bitches, fuck all the stank-ass hoes, all my niggas know Junior M.A.F.I.A. click, Gucci Don, you know how we play Fuckin skanless-ass bitches; you know how it go Boots I meet a bitch, fuck a bitch next thing you know you fuckin the bitch You just pass it around and shit, pass the shit like a cold and shit Fuck 'em [Verse 1] Now when I'm fuckin off gin I'm invincible Don't love no hoe, that's my priciple cause uh, bitches come [and uh] bitches go That's why I get my nut and I be out the fuckin do' [You know] they might be the one to set me up Wanna get they little brother to wet me up That's why I tote Tecs and stuff to get 'em off my case Just in case the little fucker ends up misplaced I don't give a bitch enough, to catch the bus and when I see the semen I'm leavin Bitches be schemin, I kid ya not That's why I keep my windows locked and my Glock cocked One hoe said, "Big, why you so hard on us? Why you swear all bitches are so scandalous?" Thug nigga 'til the end, tell a friend bitch Cause when I like ya, then ya go and fuck my friend bitch [And you know that ain't right] [Chorus - repeat 4X] You know that ain't right With a friend of mine [Verse 2] You see, I don't sweat these hoes I keep 'em in flavors like Timbos and Girbauds Bitches just like to play the merry-go [Yeah we know, drop the scenario] It was me, Dee, the MPV The blunts and brew thang, knockin' some Wu-tang M-E-T-H-Oh shit, look at them lips and them hips on that bitch Dee hit the dip, so I can drop my mackadocious shit Light the blunt clip, and recognize a pimp Needless to speak, the Gee's obsolete Don't sleep! Banged the skins in a week On the creep up the avenue I seen her on the block, who she rappin' to? That's my nigga Dee, damn he got Gee Now she fuckin him and fuckin me, see You know that ain't right [Chorus] [Verse 3] Uh...now I play her far like a moon play a star She still sweat me hard 'cause I'm a rap star I be cruisin up the block, I be passin her Pimpin hard with the female passenger And the only time I call her to hang Is when me and Dee blunted up, pissy, schemin on a gang-bang She should've used her intuition Then she wouldn't be classified in that position, listen She's sayin I dissed her 'cause I'm fuckin her sister A message to the fellas, that really gets 'em pissed, uh But she started that fuckin family She fucked my man Dee, so why she mad at me? (True) Plus your sister look better than you Give head better than you, pussy get wetter than you So break the fuck out like a rash I'm glad I ain't spend no cash to hit yo' nasty ass [Chorus]
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3:44 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
Verse One: Live from Bedford-Stuyverson, the livest one Representin BK to the fullest Gats I pull it, bastards duckin when Big be buckin Chickenheads be cluckin in my bathroom fuckin It ain't nuttin, they know Big be handlin with the mac in the Ac' door paneling Bandaging MC's, oxygen they can't breathe Mad tricks up the sleeve, red boxers so my dick can breathe Breeze through in the Q-45 by my side, lyrical high And those that rushes my cluthes get put on crutches Get smoked like dutches from the master Hate to blast ya, but I have ta, you see I smoke a lot Your life is played out like Kwame, and them fuckin polka dots Who rock the spot? Biggie! You know how the weed yo, unbelievable Verse Two: B-I-G, G-I-E, AKA, B.I.G. Get it? Biggie Also known as the bon appetit Rappers can't sleep need sleepin Big keep creepin Bulelts heat-seekin, casualties need treatin Dumb rappers need teachin Lesson A - don't fuck with B-I, that's that, oh I, thought he was wack Oh come come now, why y'all so dumb now Hunt me or be hunted, three hundred and fifty-seven ways To summer sautee, I'm the winner all day Lights get dimmer down Biggie's hallway My forte causes caucausians to say He sounds demented, car-weed scented If I said it, I meant it Bite my tongue for no-one Call me evil, or unbelievable Verse Three: Buck shots out the sun roof of Lexus Coupe's Leave no witnesses, what you think this is Ain't no amateurs here, I damage and tear MC's fear me, they too near not to hear me Clearly, I'm the triple beam dream One thousand grams of uncut to the gut It seems fucked up, the way I touched up the grill Tryin to play gorilla, when you ain't no killer The gat's by your liver, your upper lip quiver Get ready to die, tell God I said hi And throw down some ice, for the nicest MC Niggaz know the steelo, unbelievable
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2:54 | ||||
from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
(RING, RING) (Hello? Aw shit, nigga. What the fuck time is it, man? Oh god damn. Nigga do you know what time it is? Aw shit, what the fuck's goin' on? You alright? Aw, nigga what the fuck is wrong wit you?) When I die, fuck it I wanna go to hell Cause I'm a piece of shit, it ain't hard to fuckin' tell It don't make sense, goin' to heaven wit the goodie-goodies Dressed in white, I like black Tims and black hoodies God will probably have me on some real strict shit No sleepin' all day, no gettin my dick licked Hangin' with the goodie-goodies loungin' in paradise Fuck that shit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice All my life I been considered as the worst Lyin' to my mother, even stealin' out her purse Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion I know my mother wished she got a fuckin' abortion She don't even love me like she did when I was younger Suckin' on her chest just to stop my fuckin' hunger I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes? Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies My babies' mothers 8 months, her little sister's 2 Who's to blame for both of them (naw nigga, not you) I swear to God I just want to slit my wrists and end this bullshit Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit And squeeze, until the bed's, completely red I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fuckin' buddah head The stress is buildin' up, I can't, I can't believe suicide's on my fuckin' mind I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin' callin' me Naw you wouldn't understand (nigga, talk to me please) You see its kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack Except when I cross over, there ain't no comin' back Should I die on the train track, like Remo in Beatstreet People at the funeral frontin' like they miss me My baby momma kissed me but she glad I'm gone She knew me and her sista had somethin' goin' on I reach my peak, I can't speak, call my nigga Chic, tell him that my will is weak. I'm sick of niggas lyin', I'm sick of bitches hawkin', matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'. (BANG) (hey yo big...hey yo big)
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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3:43 | ||||
from Bad Boys (나쁜 녀석들) by Mark Mancina [ost] (1995)
B Side, B side, check it
SoSoDef, Bad Boy, collaboration The Notorious BIG's in the house We got Da Brat in the house And me, y'all know who I be Check it I got beats and beats That ya love to rock to Funk from my trunk is what I provide you So slide through your hood with me in your deck Cause yo, correct way to get your groove on, flossin I paid the costs to be the boss as a kid Now I be the one that you can't mess wit They thought luck did it, but it didn't cause I'm back again Back with the Big and my new found friend sliding in from the front, never way behind you're tryin to figure how I came with this style of mine remain, in your seats as I release the clip into yo' hip Brat and Biggie Smalls oh shit, on top of all that, I'm so-so remarkable, flow, making competition know ain't any MC coming close to the Notorious B.I.G. baby, baby I never knew that you never had a clue of who was the king of the street more deep than a range rover jeep, guns under the seat and my man just came home from work release, chrysalis in my lap, chronic in the air (now Biggie pass what's lit like you just don't care) yeah, you on my hit list, Biggie burns spliffs when I'm pissed, release the rolex from your wrist baby, no human being, Korean or European be seeing what we be seeing, now they be peeing in they drawers, because Biggie Smalls will spark a weed brat-tat-tat please speak just close your eyes, cause you already see (fool) the Notorious B-R-A-T The raw combination destination, number one tote a gun with no hestiation live with the funkdified cutie pie gat by the side, the Smalls by her side, if you mess with her you gots to mess with me and we'll be rapping at your eulogy, baby Brat-tat-tat-tat please speak I got the funk in my pocket, keep it locked down shorty you know who represents them platinuim sound now Biggie, baby, I done heard that Juicy didn't find nuthin but truth, in the hook B you're pledging to wreck with a notorious hustler ready to die jump in the benz, took me a little ride round the mountain, broke a left, hit SoSoDef and told the homey JD I was the one, buck the rest we Funkdafied, kicking it live Robin Leach teaching me how to really survive rather it be, track or blunt, ain't no need to front got what you need, and I take everything you ever wanted, nucka we come in mass, is clipping ass, my glass is full of moet the rolex is bar-bayed, parkade, b to the r, ah, a-t rolling off swoll on chrome 17 |
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4:11 | ||||
from Hardball (하드볼) by Mark Isham [ost] (2001)
To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
Allow me to lace these lyrical duches in your bushes Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies The back of the club, sippin Moet, is where you'll find me The back of the club, mackin hoes, my crew's behind me Mad question askin, blunt passin, music blastin But I just can't quit Cause one of these honies Biggie gots ta creep with Sleep with, keep the ep a secret why not Why blow up my spot cause we both got hot Now check it, I got more Mack than Craig and in the bed Believe me sweety I got enough to feed the needy No need to be greedy I got mad friends with Benz's C-notes by the layers, true fuckin players Jump in the Rover and come over tell your friends jump in the GS3, I got the chronic by the tree [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee Straight up honey really I'm askin Most of these niggaz think they be mackin but they be actin Who they attractin with that line, "What's your name what's your sign" Soon as he buy that wine I just creep up from behind And ask what your interests are, who you be with Things to make you smile, what numbers to dial You gon' be here for a while, I'm gon' go call my crew You go call your crew We can rendezvous at the bar around two Plans to leave, throw the keys to Lil Cease Pull the truck up, front, and roll up the next blunt So we can steam on the way to the telly go fill my belly A t-bone steak, cheese eggs and Welch's grape Conversate for a few, cause in a few, we gon' do What we came to do, ain't that right boo [truuuueee] Forget the telly we just go to the crib and watch a movie in the jacuzzi smoke l's while you do me [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee [How ya livin Biggie Smallz] In mansion and Benz's Givin ends to my friends and it feels stupendous Tremendous cream, fuck a dollar and a dream Still tote gats strapped with infrared beams Choppin o's, smokin live optimo's Money hoes and clothes all a nigga knows A foolish pleasure, whatever I had to find the buried treasure, so grams I had to measure However living better now, Gucci sweater now Drop top BM's I'm the man girlfriend [Honey check it Tell your friends, to get with my friends And we can be friends Shit we can do this every weekend Aight? Is that aight with you? Yeah... keep bangin] [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee |
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3:58 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Hah sicka than your average
Poppa Twist cabbage off instinct niggaz don't think shit stink pink gators my Detroit players Timbs for my hoagans Brooklyn Dead right if the head right Biggie there ery'night Poppa been smooth since days of Underroos Never lose never choose to bruise crews who do something to us talk go through us Girls walk to us wanna do us screw us Who us Yeah Poppa and Puff Close like Starsky and Hutch stick the clutch Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M 3 Bang every MC easily busily Recently niggaz frontin ain't sayin nuttin So I just speak my piece keep my piece Cubans with the Jesus piece with my peeps Packin askin who want it you got it nigga flaunt it That Brooklyn bullshit we on it Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid I put hoes in NY onto DKNY Miami D C prefer Versace All Philly hoes dough and Moschino Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi Now who's the real dookie meanin who's really the shit Them niggaz ride dicks Frank White push the sticks on the Lexus LX four and a half Bulletproof glass tints if I want some ass Gon' blast squeeze first ask questions last That's how most of these so called gangsters pass At last a nigga rappin bout blunts and broads Tits and bras menage a tois sex in expensive cars still leave you on the pavement Condo paid for no car payment At my arraignment note for the plantiff Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement Face it not guilty that's how I stay filthy Richer than Richie till you niggaz come and get Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid I can fill ya wit real millionaire shit Escargot my car go one sixty swiftly Wreck it buy a new one Your crew run run run your crew run run I know you sick of this name brand nigga wit flows girls say he's sweet like licorice So get this nigga it's easy Girlfriend here's a pen call me round ten Come through have sex on rugs that's Persian Come up to your job hit you while you workin for certain Poppa freakin not speakin Leave that ass leakin like rapper demo Tell them hoe take they clothes off slowly Hit em wit the force like Obe dick black like Toby Watch me roam like Gobe lucky they don't owe me Where the safe show me homey Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid |
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6:15 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Bone and Biggie, Biggie.
It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie . . . Krayzie: We gonna rock the party [rock the party, party]. Better run and tell everybody [everybody, everybody]. alternating with Layzie: Ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Come on and . . . Bizzy: Get high, get high, get high . . . This is a lake of fire, but I can't even hold on. [Simulated clapping.] Krayzie: Notorious thugs. Layzie: Nothin' but them thugstas. Nothin' but them thugstas [thugstas]. Notorius B.I.G.: Armed and dangerous: ain't too many can bang with us. Straight up weed, no angel dust. Label us notorious thug-ass niggas that love to bust. It's strange to us, y'all niggas be scramblin', gamblin' up in restaurants with mandolins and violins. We just sittin' here tryin' to win, try not to sin, high off weed and lots of gin. So much smoke, need oxygen, steadily countin' them Benjamins. Nigga, you'd should, too, if you knew what this game would do to you. Been in this shit since ninety-two. Look at all the bullshit I've been through: so-called beef with you-know-who, fucked a few female stars or two. Then a blue light, niggas move like Mike, shit, not to be fucked with. Muthafucka, better duck quick, 'cause me and my dogs love to buck shit. Fuck the luck, shit, strictly aim, no aspirations to quit the game. Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your click, squeeze your clip, hit the right one. Pass that weed, I gotsta light one. All them niggas, I gotsta fight one. All them hoes, I gotsta like one. Our situation is a tight one. What you wanna do: fight or run? Seems to me that you'll take B, Bone and B.I.G., nigga, die slowly. I'm a tell you like a nigga told me, cash rules everything 'round me. Shit, lyrically, niggas can't see me. Fuck it. Buy the coke, cook the coke, cut it. Know the bitch, before you caught yourself lovin' it. Nigga, roll the Benz, fuckin' in it. Doesn't it seem odd to you? B.I.G. come through with mobs and crews. Goodfellas down for the Mo Thug crew. Who's the killa: me or you? Puff Daddy: We forgive you, for you know not what you do. Bizzy: Seven A.M. woke in the morning, with Hen and caffiene and green and nicotine. No dough, so pop a couple of those. Little RIPsta, nigga, Mr. Clean make it gleam, deep in my temple, and I go get sentimentally steamed with my instrumelody and heated especially for your team and the forty-five indeed will beam in between the seams, destroy your dreams. You willing to die? We'll see how many flee when I 'cause the scene. We mean mug, Mo Thug, trained to be perfect disciples when it's survival time, die by double-edged sword, triple six rivals spittin' fire, that's the real truth, bitch, breakin' down for lives, my Messiah, better get ready for Armageddon, shoots expired, it's wild. Bless the child, the one that became a man, but them positions' already there, all that I had to do was stare. Test me now, contend, never no surrender, no pretend, pick up my gun in my hand, one of my trusty friend, friends. Hey, open and let 'em see if we're real. We all suited, beg my pardon to Martin, baby, we ain't marchin', we shootin', and daily recrutin'. There's a thug born everyday in the ghetto. We start 'em off little, we give 'em a bottle and a pen and pad. They hit the label, kick it. Krayzie: Little Kray roll on over to the dark spot, to the dome with a shot of burb, now me go back to the curb. Me feelin' that urge to splurge, but I'm broke as fuck. "Sin, gimme that Mossberg swerve." Off into my pad, 'cause I gotta get my mask and shells to put in this twelve-gauge sawed-off, get 'em mauled off, nigga, y'all lost. They get hauled off. Got a nigga callin', though, for the pump, now Leatherface, Sin runnin', thuggin' and cuttin', Lil' Mo! Hart quick to pull it, ain't nothin'. Bitch, if you're steppin', we're buckin' them guts. That's fucked up. Now let me get down for the crime. Got to go purchase a dime, put in the state, nigga double the crime, smokin' the reefer to ease my mind. Swig some wine, step on the block with the rocks, but really me servin' 'em dummies, see. Gotta buck 'em on down, if they come talkin' like, "Give me back me money." Thuggin' with me killas, need us a liter of liquor, but niggas ain't got shit, but a sawed-off pump, chrome .38 pistol, now who ready to get back? Nigga like me fiendin' for them green leaves, but I ain't had no dough. Gotta make some money, so I makin' my dummy rocks, if I go broke. It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie. It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie . . . Krayzie: We gonna rock the party [rock the party, party]. Better run and tell everybody [everybody]. alternating with Layzie: Ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Come on and . . . Bizzy: Get high, get high, get high . . . Layzie: [Yeah.] Little Lay, hey, comin' in the form of scripture, fin to get ya and hit ya with magic, drivin' out late, but I call on my gadgets. With an automatic status, we spray. Time to load the glocks, but I'm thinkin' not, there's another evil force tellin' me to do what I gotta do, so I up my pipe, a nigga dyin' tonight, and I'm always runnin' from the boys in blue, biggy-blue's on my ass. Now, I whip out the cellular phone to call Bone, "What's happenin'? Grab artillery. Niggas start packin', 'cause a muthafucka tried to get me in a jackin', and I did him." Hit 'em right between the eyes. The spot was wise. Wanna test a nigga's size, and it cost him. Nigga fuck around with the wrong shit, y'all get mo mudered all day, all day. We can play that way, and I'm on the run. I'm a call my boys, and bring all the guns. Y'all niggas wanna have a little fun with #1, bloody red, redrum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, bloody red, redrum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, bloody red, redrum. Bizzy: It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie. It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie . . . Krayzie: We gonna rock the party [rock the party, party]. Better run and tell everybody [everybody]. alternating with Layzie: Ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Come on and . . . Bizzy: Get high, get high, get high . . . |
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5:40 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
I Love the Dough
Verse One: Jay-Z We push the hottest V's, peel fast through the city, play Monopoly with real cash Me and Biggie and the models be, ?sugar nase and did he ask? ?And parotta be?, somethin you cats got to see And the watches be all types and shapes of stones Bein broke is childish and I'm quite grown Run up in the club with the ice on, me and Python Scope the spot out, see somethin nice and I'm gone You cats is home, screamin the fight's on I'm in the fifteen hundred seats, watchin Ty-son Same night, same fight But one of us cats ain't playin right, I let you tell it People place yourselves in the shoes of two felons And tell me you won't ball every chance you get and any chance you hit, we live for the moment Makes sense don't it? Now make dollars Cats pop bottles bone chicks that pay for hors d'ourves And rack up frequent flier mileage Chorus: Angela Winbush Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G. I'm poppin Magnums while Jigga bag somethin Watch is platinum, got jet lag from flights back and forth, pop corks of the best grapes Make the best CD's and the best tapes Don't forget the vinyl, take girls break spinals Biggie be Richie like Lionel, shit You seen the Jesus, dipped to H classes, Ice project off lights, chick flashes Blind your broke asses, even got rocks in big mustaches Rock top fashions Ain't shit changed, except the number after the dot on the Range, way niggaz look at me now, kinda strange I hate y'all too Rather be in Carribean sand to rake through It's unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal Bitches used to go, "Ewww!" Still tote steel, tryin to see five mil off the sin-gle, for real You ain't fazin the amazin While your gun's raisin, mine is blazin See you on see me all talkin to sweetness Take it for weakness and leave quick Blocker, rocker, fellow, Bad Boy collabo Two MC's with mad dough, jewelry on! Chorus: Angela Winbush I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey (repeat 2X) Verse Three: Jay-Z, Notorious B.I.G. Miracu-lous, pockets stay full Niggaz skip the bull cause we matadors Snatch the P-89's that we pack in the drawers And we, clappin doors in your Acuras Snap like, cameras or amateurs Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks in floors Erybody got a part to play, back to yours Run up in your crib now, crack your doors Watch the real players live, it's a habit to floss Play the charts like the Beatles, y'all ?dapped and lost? And toast Cristal on behalf of y'all Too bad for y'all, ain't too many as bad as yours truly, do we, we laugh at y'all Little bastards y'all Uhh, uhh We hit makers with acres Roll shakers in Vegas, you can't break us Lost chips on Lakers, gassed off Shaq Country house, tennis courts on horseback Ridin decidin cracked crab or lobster Who say mobsters don't prosper Niggaz is actors, niggaz deserve Oscars Me I'm, critically acclaimed, slug past your brain Reminesce on dames who, coochie used to stink When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places Tito smile everytime he see our faces Cases catch more than outfield-ers Half these rappin cats, ain't seen war Couldn't score if they had point game, they lame Speak my name, I make em dash like Dame Chorus: Angela Winbush I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey (repeat to fade) |
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0:48 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997) | |||||
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4:06 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Yeah, dedicatin' this to my nigga O
We miss you nigga Goin out to all the niggas that died in the struggle Word up, shit is real in the field You know, sparkin' blunts for all you niggaz Word up Each and every day The daydreams of how we used to be See your family And that baby's lookin just like you Why'd you gone away I've been missin you lately Tell me why you're gone and thru O yeah Verse One: Notorious B.I.G. I remember sellin three bricks of straight flour Got my man a beat down to the third power He didn't care, spent the money in a half hour Got some fishscale, ain't no competition that could sour Got the coke cooked up, a crackhead heaven In eighty-eight, when Kane ruled, with Half Steppin A thirty-eight, a lot of mouth, was our only weapon We was king till the G's crept in And now I'm missin em Chorus: Ooh, I'm missin you Tell me why the road turns, why it turns Ooh, I'm missin you Nah nah nah nah nah, oh tell me why why why why Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G. We work all week, we dancin, play the movies We rock flatops, our girls rocked doobies Made a killin, even though the D's knew me Eventually, you know they try to do me Fuck it Fed up, my nigga want to take it down south Sick of cops comin, sick of throwin jacks in his mouth Gave him half my paper, told 'em go that route Few months, he got his brain blown out Now I'm stressed His baby's mother, she trippin, blamin me And his older brothers, understand, the game it be Kinda topsy turvy You win some, you lose some Damn, they lost a brother They mother lost a son Fuck, why my nigga couldn't stay in NY? I'm a thug, but I swear for three days I cried I look in the sky and ask God why Can't look his baby girls in the eye D*mn I miss you Chorus Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G. There was this girl around the way that make cats drool Her name's Drew, played fools out they money in pool People swore we was f*ckin but we was just cool She used to hang while I slang my drugs after school She'd watch my bomb, help my moms with the groceries My little sister, the girl was kinda close to me A little closer than the average girl's supposed to be Far from a lover, my girl was jealous of her Then she started messin with some major players Handled keys, niggas called them the Bricklayers A dread kid, had a baby fore that bitch Taya Found out her baby's father cheatin, now Drew she gotta slay her One night, across from the corner store Taya ran around the block with a chrome four-four Squeezed all six shots in the passenger door The dude lived, what my baby had to die for We missin her Chorus |
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4:18 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
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 Who jewels got robbed who's mostly Goldie down to the blue tube sock, the same ol pimp Mase, you know ain't nuttin changed but my limp Can't stop till 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 niggaz didn't know me ' 91 bet they know me now I'm the young Harlem nigga with the Goldie sound Can't no PhD 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 *singers come in over last line* I don't know what, they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see (2x) Yeah yeah, ahaha, from the C-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 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 with 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 Uhh, uhh 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 mice 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 roadies in the sky Wave em side to side and keep your hands high While I give your girl the eye, player please Lyrically, nigga see B.I.G. be flossin jig on the cover of Fortune Five double oh, get the phone number your name, I got to know, I got to go Got the flow down pizat, platinum plus like thizat, dangerous on trizack, leave your ass blizzack 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? Somebody tell me What's goin on? What's goin on? I don't know what, they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see |
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4:00 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Playa Hater
Good evening And for my last hit I'd like to take you back to the classic A-hem, B.I.G. style of course Uhh *singing* Playaahh, turn your head round Lay on the ground, you've been robbed Wake up, open the door Lay on the floor, you've been robbed Uhh You know, we need this money And you, yes baby, you, should just roll with me Let's go off, together On this robbin spree, we'll make money Uhh Playaahh, turn your head round Take off that crown, you've been robbed Wake up, open the door Don't cry no more, you've been robbed You see, there are two kind of people in the world today We have, the playaz, and we have, the playa haters Please don't hate me because I'm beautiful baby Hear what they talk, about me But my crew so deep, you can't do, a damn thing, to me Playahh, open the door Lay on the floor, you've been robbed Wake up (wake your ass up), take off your jewels You fuckin fools, you've been robbed (this is a robbery nigga) Playahh playahh (hater), Playahh playahh (hater) Playahh playahh (hater), Playahh playahh (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Uhh, thank you... thank you very much *applause* Thank you thank you far too kind, far too kind Thank you, thank you very much Good night everybody, good night! I love all of you, thank you thank you Thank you, thank you very much Good night! |
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4:23 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
<P>Yeah... fuck you
Fuck you too! Fuck you bitch Fuck you motherfucker You ain't shit anyway, fuck you You ain't shit, you fat motherfucker Yeah, whatever whatever Whatevah You wasn't sayin that when you was suckin my dick You wasn't sayin that when you was eatin my bush! You a nasty motherfucker! Check it, uhh Crab ass </P><P>What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue? You cut that hooker off and find someone new I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life </P><P>Uh-huh, uhh, uhh I know he don't treat you like I treat you Time to explain the game you see through Sex is lethal, I ain't gon lie Means to get ya back, I ain't gon try Like this ya'll, my girl sucked anotha nigga dick y'all Light skinned with the chrome die six y'all Thought they was creepin, two trips to V-A every third weekend While you was sleepin, he hit you on the box Sixty-nine go non-stop Shoulda left ya then, but my heart said not You knew too much, the relationship grew too much You knew about the crack vials, means to be trialed Way I hid dough under the bathroom towel Waited for a while, thought you was my right thing Then things got frightening Peep the scene, sorta like Sam Rosten Guess you ginger, huh, go figure Never thought you could be a gold digger Take my dough and spend with the next nigga Asked my man Trigga, my ace boom coon Told me cut the bitch off 'fore the shit balloon Now I'm like Brandy, Sittin In My Room Pissy drunk listenin to Stylistic tunes Or the O-Jays, thinkin bout the old days My nigga's like, fuck that bitch, go play Baller, did she beep you? Don't call her Guess who I seen, that freak bitch Paula She was askin bout ya whereabouts Here's the digits, I know you can wear that out Tear that out the frame, ya game so tight You'll be all fuckin night </P><P>What do ya do when your man is untrue? Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new? I need another man, in my life </P><P>Mmm, uhhh, uhhh! Member when you said you would die for me, shit All of that was just lies to me Motherfucker shoulda never said bye to me Now you cry for me, like Jodeci It's like that y'all, my nigga hit another bitch from the back y'all Black nasty and matter fact ya'll Shoulda seen the hoe, nigga pack ya shit You out the door, ohh What about the fight in the Mirage? I seen ya Benz, parked outside my sister's garage Said it was ya friend Rog, bullshit I ain't gonna keep puttin up wit the bullshit And still I, never sweat these bitches Who be hanged like plaques on the wall and ya pictures Scalin fishes, my love is concrete Stashin ya heat in the passenger seat of the Nautica Jeep, we've been down for so long Still a bitch like me tryin to hold on Teary eyed, damn a bitch steamin Girls steady screamin, 'Kim you need to leave him!' When I testified in court, couldn't think straight thinkin bout the bitches I fought over you, nigga half the shit you bought And fuck you, movin is my last resort You see nine outta ten niggaz, ain't shit One outta five niggaz suck a dick Ya mad at me, too bad she ain't as bad as me Choulda kept the freak bitch off my canape Now you see, ain't no pussy warm as mine Long as mine, ain't no love as strong as this When I sucked ya dick, it's like smokin a roach Uhh, I go from first class to coach </P><P>What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue? You cut that hooker off and find someone new I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life </P><P>What do ya do when your man is untrue? Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new? I need another man, in my life </P><P>What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue? You cut that hooker off and find someone new I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life </P><P>What do ya do when your man is untrue? Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new? I need another man, in my life </P> |
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3:25 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
(Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine"
Uhh, it's the ten crack commandments What, uhh, uhh Nigga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huh Can't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weed To my hustlin niggaz Niggaz on the corner I ain't forget you niggaz My triple beam niggaz, word up (Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "TEN" I been in this game for years, it made me a animal It's rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual A step by step booklet for you to get your game on track, not your wig pushed back Rule nombre uno: never let no one know how much, dough you hold, cause you know The cheddar breed jealousy 'specially if that man fucked up, get your ass stuck up Number two: never let em know your next move Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence or violence Take it from your highness (uh-huh) I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips Number three: never trust no-bo-dy Your moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed up Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck she be layin in the bushes to light that ass up Number four: know you heard this before Never get high, on your own supply Number five: never sell no crack where you rest at I don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounce Number six: that god damn credit, dead it You think a crackhead payin you back, shit forget it Seven: this rule is so underrated Keep your family and business completely seperated Money and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitch Find yourself in serious shit Number eight: never keep no weight on you Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs too Number nine shoulda been number one to me If you ain't gettin bags stay the fuck from police (uh-huh) If niggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listen They be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittin Number ten: a strong word called consignment Strictly for live men, not for freshmen If you ain't got the clientele say hell no Cause they gon want they money rain sleet hail snow Follow these rules you'll have mad bread to break up If not, twenty-four years, on the wake up Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up Caretaker did your makeup, when you pass Your girl fucked my man Jake up, heard in three weeks she sniffed a whole half of cake up Heard she suck a good dick, and can hook a steak up Gotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up, uhh Crack king, Frank Whizzah(White) Uhh (Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "Ten" |
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3:52 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Nasty Boy
[Notorious B.I.G. conversating with someone] Yeahh, worrd I remember I met this one bitch Cause you know me I don't see how I'm the nasty motherfucker I just thought I thought I'da did anything in the world (yeh?) I meets this one bitch, I comes up in the spot, or whatever The bitch got the candles lit or whatever, so She tell me whatever she wanna get her freak on whatever So I'm like WHASSUP whatchu wanna yaknahmsayin I'm read to wear it out or whatever (kssss) The bitch told me she wanted me to shit on her! (*laughing*) Ya know shit I was like whatchu mean shit? I mean I might shit on you after I, hit it I won't call you no more Shit on you like that (*more laughing*) She talkin about no she want me to cock over her And shit, on her stomach! (*laughing through his teeth*) I said bitch what the, what the fuck?? What the fuck I'm sposed to do after I after I shit on her I'm sposed to hit that after that? She's just wilding out so after I shits on the bitch right (*both start laughing*) Ya know I shit, after I shits on the bitch The bitch, ya know, washed that shit off or whatever (Ohhh shit!) [Puff Daddy] Come on, yeah (repeat 10X) Uhh, I go, on and on and on and then take her to the crib and let your bone in Easy, call em on the phone and platinum Chanel cologne and I stay, dressed, to impress Spark these bitches interest Sex is all I expect if they watch TV in the Lex, they know They know, quarter past fo' Left the club tipsy, say no mo' except how I'm gettin home, tomorrow Caesar drop you off when he see his P.O., uhh Back of my mind I hope she swallow (uh-huh) Man She split a drink on my cream Wallows Reach the gate, hungry just ate Riffin, she got to be to work by eight This must mean she ain't tryin to wait Conversate, sex on the first date I state "You know what you do to me" She starts, "Well but I don't usually" then I, whipped it out, rubber no doubt Step out, show me what you all about Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse Pull your G-string down South, aoowww Threw that back out, in the parking lot By a Cherokee and a green drop-top And I don't stop, until I screw Jeans skirt butt-naked it all work I remember we, went to Tennessee Then we came home, mad messages was on my phone Bitch named Symone Screamin, she feenin, for the semen Me bein, the man that I am Took it to her condo, pronto Half indian, called her Tonto Roll the kronk ton in the dark pronto Few buzz, I got load and off to the bedroom we go *mmmmmm* Sex is drama, head to trauma Rip pajamas I'ma stay to tomorrow Satisfyin all my needs twice With the whipped cream, handcuffs and ice The bitch is nice, word is bond Can't wait to put my niggaz on, what, what? Ladies, my Mercedes Hold fo' in the back, two if it's fat Keep a gat, cause cats, try to test me They just fans like DeNiro, Wesley Let's see, the bitch I'm waitin on Gaudy years teens look like they painted on Ask thee, leave it up to me Lay her on back ever so gently She like the way the dope fold up, Rolls roll up Cristal just throw up, bitch grow up Hold up, there's DeGenero Dripped out, iceberg Capero Intro goes without speaking Call me Caese cause I keep em, we can go freakin all weekend, so, roll in Ain't it good that my Lex keeps foldin? Uhh |
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4:37 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Good evenin ladies and gentlemen
How's everybody doin tonite? I'd like to welcome to the stage, the lyrically acclaimed, ha I like this young man, because, when he came out he came out wit the phrase, he went from ashy to classy Ha, I like that So everybody in the house, give a warm, round of applause for The Notorious B.I.G. The Notorious B.I.G. ladies and gentlemen give it up for him ya'll Uhhh A nigga never been as broke as me, I like that When I was young I had two pair of Lees, besides that The pin stripes and the gray (uh-huh) The one I wore on Mondays and Wednesdays While niggas flirt, I'm sewing tigers on my shirt and alligators Ya wanna see the inside, huh, I see ya later Here come the drama, oh, that's that nigga wit the fake, blaow! Why you punch me in my face, stay in ya place Play ya position, here come my intuition Go in this nigga pocket Rob him while his friends watchin That hoes clockin, here comes respect His crew's your crew, or they might be next Look at they man eye, BIG man they never try So we roll wid em, stole wid em I mean loyalty, niggaz bought me milks at lunch The milks was chocolate, the cookies, buttercrunch In gear - Oshkosh with blue and white ducks Pass the blunt Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want Uh-huh, I was a shame, my crew was lame I have enough heart for most of em Long as I got stuff from most of em It's on, even when I was wrong I got my point across They depicted me the boss, of course My orange box-cutter make the world go round Plus I'm fuckin, bitches ain't my homegirls now Start stackin, dabbled in crack, gun packin Nickname Medina, make the seniors tote my ninas From gym class, to Englass, pass off a global The only nigga wit a mobile, Can't You See like Total Gettin larger in waist and taste Ain't no tellin where this felon is headin, just in case Keep a shell at the tip of ya melon, clear da space Ya brain was a terrible thing ta waste Eighty-eight long gates, snatch initial name plates Smokin spliffs wit niggaz, real life beginner killers Prayin God forgive us for being sinners, help us out Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want After realizin, to master enterprisin I ain't have ta be in school by ten, I was in Began to encounter, wit my counter-parts On how ta burn the block apart, break it down into section Drugs by the selection Some use pipes, others use in-jec-tions Syringe sold seperately, Frank the deputy Quick to grab my Smith-n-Wessun, like my dick was missin To protect my position, my corner, my layer While we out here, say the hustlas prayer If the game shakes me or breaks me I hope it makes me a better man Take a better stand Put money in my moms hand Get my daughter this college plan, so she don't need no man Stay far from timid Only make moves when ya heart's in it And live the phrase Sky's The Limit Motherfucker... see you chumps on top Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want ... Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want... |
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3:55 | ||||
from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
[phone number being dialed]
[phone rings three times] [Biggie] Yo! [P. Dad] Yo Big wake up wake up baby [Biggie] Mmm, yo... [P. Dad] Yo Big wake yo' ass up c'mon [Biggie] I'm up! I'm up. *mumbling* I'm up I'm up [P. Dad] Big, wake up! [Biggie] I'm up baby, what the fuck, man? What's up? [P. Dad] C'mon now it's a quarter to six we got the 7:30 flight [Biggie] Mmm, *mumbling* yeah [P. Dad] Yo Big Big, Big [Biggie] Yeah I hear you dogg, I hear you, alright, 7:30 [P. Dad] Yo take down this information [Biggie] Ain't no pen [P. Dad] Tell your girl then to remember it or somethin [Biggie] Aight honey, yeah write this down [P. Dad] Aight, ummm, flight five-oh-four [Biggie] Five-oh-four [P. Dad] Leaving Kennedy [Biggie] mumbling Kennedy [P. Dad] On the L-A-X [Biggie] Oh! Cali?? [P. Dad] No doubt baby, you know we gotta get this paper [Biggie] Ahh, no doubt, aight [P. Dad] You aight? [Biggie] I'm up, I'm up [P. Dad] Yo Big [Biggie] I'm UP man [P. Dad] Flight five-oh-four [Biggie] Alright 7:30 I'ma meet you at the airport [P. Dad] California [Biggie] Yeh [phone clicks] [Verse One: Notorious B.I.G.] When the lala hits ya lyrics just splits ya Head so hard, that ya hat can't fit ya Either I'm witcha or against ya Format venture, back through that maze I sent ya Talkin to the rap inventor Nigga wit the game tight, Bic that flame right Spell my name right, B-I, Double-G, I-E Iced out lights out, me and Ceasar Leo Gettin head from some chick he know See it's all about the cheddar, nobody do it better Going back to Cali, strictly for the weather Women, and the weed -- sticky green No seeds bitch please, Poppa ain't soft Dead up in the Hood, ain't no love lost Got me mixed up, you drunk them licks up Mad cause I got my dick sucked and my balls licked, forfeit, the game is mine I'ma spell my name one more time, check it Its the, N-O, T-O, R-I, O U-S, you just, lay down, slow Recognize a real Don when you see Juan/one Sippin on booze in the House of Blues [Chorus: repeat 4X] I'm going going, back back, to Cali Cali [Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.] If I got to choose a coast I got to choose the East I live out there, so don't go there But that don't mean a nigga can't rest in the West See some nice breasts in the West Smoke some nice sess in the West, y'all niggaz is a mess Thinkin I'm gon stop, givin L.A. props All I got is beef with those that violate me I shall annihilate thee Case closed, suitcase filled with clothes Linens and things, I begin things People start to flash, 818's, 213's 313's, B.I.G. Frequently floss hoes at Roscoe's If I wanna squirt her, take her to Fatburger Spend about a week on Venice Beach Sippin Crist-o, with some freaks from Frisco [Chorus] [Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G.] Cali got gunplay, models on the runway Scream Biggie Biggie gimme One More Chance I be whippin on the freeway, the NYC way On the celly-celly with my homeboy Lance Pass hash from left to right Only got five blunts left to light, I'm set tonight Paid a visit to Versace stores Bet she suck until I ain't got no more, only in L.A. Bust on bitches be-lly, rub it in they tummy Lick it, say it's yummy, then fuck yo' man Fuck your plan, is it to rock the Tri-State? Almost gold, 5 G's at show gate Or do you wanna see about seven digits Fuck hoes exquisite, Cali, great place to visit [Chorus] [Chorus] [Chorus: Again to fade] |