The Notorious B.I.G. Unreleased Songs

1.Nasty Girl

Lyricist：Phalon Anton Alexander, Sean Puffy Combs, Eldra Patrick Jr
Debarge, Ralph N Distasio, Cornell Haynes, Steven Aaron Jordan,
Simon John Le Bon, Howard Spencer Jr Lilly, Nick Rhodes, Joyce E
Sims, Angie Stone, John Taylor, Christopher Wallace, Antoine
Junias Whitley

The Biggie Duets
(Uh)
Jazzy Fizzle, Jagged Edge
(Biggie Smalls)
Ladies and gentlemen

I go, on and on and on and
Don't take 'em to the crib unless they bonin'
Easy, call 'em on the phone and
Platinum Chanel cologne and
(Ooh we)

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.
(Hey)
Back of my mind I hope she swallow
Man she spilled 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 off, 'But I don't usually'
(Let's go)
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
(Aow)
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
And I don't stop, until I squirt
Jeans, skirt, butt-naked it all work

Gotta love my lil' nasty girl
Know I love my lil' nasty girl
I love my lil' nasty girl
All the ladies if you feel me
Grab your titties for B I G

My lil' nasty girl
All my women from around the world
I love my lil' nasty girl
All the ladies if you feel me
Grab your titties for B I G

You know I like nasty girls
I need you to dance, I need you to strip
I need you to shake your lil' ass and hips
I need you to grind like you workin' for tips

And gimme what I need while we listin' to prince
'Cause miss you ain't seen the world yet
Rock la pearl yet,rock them pearl sets,flew in a pearl jet
My style make a low profile girl go smile

Blow a chick back like I blow through a trial
(Take that)
And now you and me can drink some Hennessey, then we get it on
Made women wantin' to bone Sean Combs, sippin' on patron
Speedin' be leanin' got' 'em feenin'

Then when I did it to you throw it right back
(Right back)
And tell me, 'Yeah Diddy I like it like that'
(Like that)
Lift your shirt, you know how I flirt
Heels and skirt let's take it off now let's work
(Let's work)

Gotta love my lil' nasty girl
Know I love my lil' nasty girl
I love my lil' nasty girl
All the ladies if you feel me
Grab your titties for B I G

My lil' nasty girl
All the women from around the world
I love my lil' nasty girl
All the ladies if you feel me
Grab your titties for B I G

J and B I G
(What？ What？)
Got the keys from Diddy
(Uh uh)
We're a man lookin' no stress
Meet us upstairs in ya best, yes

Dress, to impress, spark this bitch's interest
Jazzy on the beat so sweet
Ladies if ya feel me grab ya titties for B I G

Okay ma, what's ya preference nice and slow or fast and reckless
Boo you heard girl bite cha neckless
Lemme show you what a nigga from the Lou' is blessed with
(Hey)

I make ya sprang a leak when I'm done flip
The mattress change the sheets
(Gotta change 'em)
I'm like the radical one

I vibrate a lil' more than your mechanical one
(From yo' titties to ya thong)
Either way mama I'ma make you do what it do
(Girl I'm about to make you cum)
Guaranteed when you fuckin' wit me

'Cause I'll go on and on and on
On and on and on, on and on
Ladies if you feel me, grab them thangs for Biggie

Gotta love my lil' nasty girl
Know I love my lil' nasty girl
I love my lil' nasty girl
All the ladies if you feel me
Grab your titties for B I G

My lil' nasty girl
All the women from around the world
I love my lil' nasty girl
All the ladies if you feel me
Grab your titties for B I G

Gotta love my lil' nasty girl
Know I love my lil' nasty girl
I love my lil' nasty girl
All the ladies if you feel me
Grab your titties for B I G

My lil' nasty girl
All the women from around the world
I love my lil' nasty girl
All the ladies if you feel me
Grab your titties for B I G

Ladies and gentlemen you are now in tune into the very best
Jazzy Fizzle, Nelly man, Jagged Edge
The Notorious, Notorious B I G, the Biggie Duets
Notorious, Bad Boy, sho nuff sho nuff
Notorious, Notorious, ladies and gentlemen
Gentlemen, gentlemen, gentlemen, let's go
Let's go, let's go


2.Hustler's Story

Lyricist：Rahim Beyah, Brad Jordan, Jack Knight, Nashiem Sa Allah
Myrick, Miguel T Scott, Aliaune Thiam, Christopher Wallace

Akon and B. I.G. yeah

Niggaz talkin' it but ain't livin' it
Cristyle pop I'm sippin' it, mob hats and lizard shit
Gator chunks bitch, rollin' blunts with the willyist of the
Willie
Hitch link cop, M1's and 9-Milli's, stories like a motherfucker

Model bitch is wonderin' if I'ma fuck with her
She knows I treat my bitches like gavana
Dolce and Gabbana drippin', Big Poppa never slippin'
H-Class diamond, shinin', dinner with wifey whinin', dinin'

Smokin' cigars and Bogatar with Columbian nigga's
Named Panama and Enrique and shit, games we play, life endin'
Bitches bendin' over with ease for a pair of Moschino jeans

Donna Karan Tank-top I got your bank stock, say who's on top？
Benjamins under the rest of them, advancing from duplex to
mansion
Stashin' keys, hidin' g's over seas, VCR's in my veins
Game elevates, money I make into stocks and real estate, bitch
Jet-skiing in the Caribbean, white sand, discussin' plans with
my man

Dark blue land, smoke tint, chrome rims
And a system that leave my rear views trembling
Whatchu gonna do when poppa catch ya attitude
Drop to your knees and show gratitude
Kiss my ring, it's a frank white thing
I stay potent, bitches devoted, take my dick and deep throat it

Eternal sunshine in this elevated world of mine
Lookin' for this hour glass of time
Tryna find my purpose on this grand design

Is there anybody out there living
4, 5, 6's on the streets they shootin'
Is there any money out there for me？
You just listen to this hustler's story

Picture me, a product of the zone three
Scareless, don't know what I am supposed to be
Shit 'cause, money never came to me
When shit shout, I suffered unshamelessly

The Lord humble nigga's especially if they act like
They too big for they draws when they stacks right
Think I'm bullshittin' a buncha niggas back like
Right back home hungry, they stacks gone they forget price

I know a nigga sold his soul for a nickel rock
I know some hoe's for some dro you can hit the cock
I know a nigga workin' 9-5 been on it
Fifteen years ain't got a car to drive

I know some niggas wanna act hard flicks bitch
Fake jack boys, can't rob, get killed
Got kinfolk back yard big whips
That's got to lift my homeboys this year

Eternal sunshine in this elevated world of mine
Lookin' for this hour glass of time
Tryna find my purpose on this grand design

Is there anybody out there living
4, 5, 6's on the streets they shootin'
Is there any money out there for me？
You just listen to this hustler's story

Akon, while B.I.G. is sittin' up with Enrique
I'm on the coastline politician' with Jose
We got the birds flyin' in the Coupe all day
Tryin' to find a new way to smuggle in pure yay

We 'bout our business, ain't no small time thiefs
If you ain't growing the caine then we ain't gonna meet
See, I am the one to call when things get deep
And my Africans will put your main man to sleep

Now, in Mexico far from the block
Tryin' to figure out how many glocks to a box
Now, sellin' arms is what has rocks in my socks
If you can show me the money, here's the keys to the lock

Now, yeah, you know the streets is my territory
Ain't scared of nothing, let you fear it for me
Yeah, whether win, lose or draw
Believe the death is waiting for all

Eternal sunshine in this elevated world of mine
Lookin' for this hour glass of time
Tryna find my purpose on this grand design

Is there anybody out there living
4, 5, 6's on the streets they shootin'
Is there any money out there for me？
You just listen to this hustler's story

Nigga's is quick to chuck rocks and hide hands
Make a break for it, get away from it
That was the plan but

The whole time I've been plotting on this man
Caught him slipping and sleepin'
I hit his ass with the cane
Here's something that you can't understand
How can one be so cold and snatch a nigga so down

I am on some get back shit, there comes a time
In every mans mind when he's deeper than dollar signs
I been on the grind, got homies doing time
Behind niggas actin' like bitches and bitches droppin' dimes

Duckin' and dockin', pussy's is red wise
Niggaz is been telling no, there ain't no way that it slimmed
But nothin', we gotta ride and and we gotta die
So you catch up to his ass before I catch up, give him mine
But that's one thing the real nigga here despise
I'm a 5K one killer, I've set his ass on fire

Eternal sunshine in this elevated world of mine
Lookin' for this hour glass of time
Tryna find my purpose on this grand design

Is there anybody out there living
4, 5, 6's on the streets they shootin'
Is there any money out there for me？
You just listen to this hustler's story


3.Mi Casa

Lyricist：Robert Bell, Ronald Nathan Bell, Donald Boyce, George Melvin
Brown, Osten S Harvey, Robert Kelly, Black Mambo, Robert Spike
Mickens, Meekaaeel Muhammed, Otha Nash, Claydes Smith, R. Dean
Taylor, Dennis Thomas, Earl Toon, Christopher Wallace, Richard
Westfield, Charlie Wilson


You see I don't sweat these hoes
I keep 'em in flavors like Timbos 'n' Jibos
Bitches just like to play the Merigo
Yer, we know drop the scenario

It was me, D, the M P V
The blunts and brew things knockers and Wu-Tang
M E T H O shit
Look at those lips and hips on that bitch, girl

We hit the crib so I can drop my macadoshar shit
Like the blunt clip and recognize a pimp
Read Mr., speak the G's obsolete
Don't sleep bang the skims in the week

On the creep of the avenue
I seen her on the block who she rappin' to？
That's my nigga D damn he got G
Now she fuckin' him and fuckin' me see

Me casa, you casa
O, I ain't lookin' for no wife, I just wanna give dick to ya
Hit the club, drink ass on ice but ya
Hit the pussy good, am I doing the thing for you？

Girl, show me how ya work that thing
You make a motherfuckin' thug wanna sing
And baby, baby, can't you see？
We gonna fuck 'til 6 in the morning

Now I play her far like a move player star
She still sweatin' me hard because I'm a rap star
I be cruisn' up the block I be passin' her
Pimpin' hard with the female passenger

And the only time I call to hang
Is when me and deep blood is up scheming on the gang bang
She shoulda used her intuition
Then she wouldn't be classified in that position

Listen, she sayin' I dissed her 'coz I'm fuckin' her sister
A message to the fellers that really gets some piss, uh
But she started that fuckin' family
She fucked ma man D, so why she mad at me？

Fuckin' sister look better than you
Give head better than you, pussy, gets wetter than you
So break the fuck out like a rash
I glad I ain't spend no cash to hit your nasty ass

Red bones to lift ons dubies
Hip huggers to show off ya booty
I'm hangin' with the best of them sleep
If you want I'm a veteran

When I show up to the club it's VIP
I'll be dancin' in the club if it's B.I.G
I'm not lookin' to find a wife
Just someone to make a friend of mine

Me casa, you casa
O, I ain't lookin' for no wife, I just wanna give dick to ya
Hit the club, drink ass on ice but ya
Hit the pussy good, am I doing the thing for you？

Girl, show me how ya work that thing
You make a motherfuckin' thug wanna sing
And baby, baby, can't you see？
We gonna fuck 'til 6 in the morning

I roll up off rack and polla
I'm so high when I walk in the club
I see this chick that used to get the dick
Now she freakin' on the floor, makin' a nigger reminisce

Oh, I want her back in ma ride, back in ma ride
I want no girlfriend
See I just wanna hit it and we can be cool
We can do this if you feelin' the same I do

Come on girl, let's go to ma hotel
Have a party all night in ma hotel
Pop bubble smoke dope in ma hotel
In 20 minutes girl, hit me on ma self

Me casa, you casa
O, I ain't lookin' for no wife, I just wanna give dick to ya
Hit the club, drink ass on ice but ya
Hit the pussy good, am I doing the thing for you？

Girl, show me how ya work that thing
You make a motherfuckin' thug wanna sing
And baby, baby, can't you see？
We gonna fuck 'til 6 in the morning

Oh
Just a friend of mine
Oh
You're friend of mine


4.Whatchu Want (Featuring Jay-Z)

Lyricist：Shawn C Carter, Osten S Harvey, Christopher Wallace

Throw your hands in the sky, nigga

I'm stickin' ice picks on the tip of ya dick
Give your testicles a swift kick, ain't that some shit？
Am I hard hard core, harder than a Plymouth
It ain't no myth, it's a nigga with the spliff

And a chrome four fifth pressed on ya back
So what you want, nigga？ How you wanna act？
I hope civilized 'cause I love to see niggaz die
Brains all leakin' out on the street

And the pastor preachin', 'He was a good man'
Played the bad man when the burner was in his hand
Now he's singin' sad songs with Elvis
Three to the head, 'bout six cross the pelvis

Ya fuck with the high guy ya die
Yeah, the same motherfucker yellin', 'Look up in the sky'
I'm on some old neck shit, Suplex shit
Hardcore sex shit, and Tec shit

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

A repetitive loop, all I need to destroy a soloist or group
Huh, I put it to ya boy, hope you got the scoop
Biggie Smalls, the rap genius
I keep the glock by the penis, the cleanest cut

Fuck the sluts with the big humongous butts
Huh, I use a rubber, but
My style is gushy like the hooker's pussy
And it don't take a lot of back talk to push me

Into flamin' 'em like that little nigga Damien
Pop 19 to my motherfuckin' cranium
Game tight, gun totin' motherfucker
Niggaz in the grave thought Biggie was a sucker

I tricked 'em, I gave 'em work then I sticked 'em
I stripped 'em, 'cause niggaz don't want the friction
Told you before how I bring the drama
Slam Larry Johnson and his Grandmama

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Lucky Lefty of the Commission, bow down
By now you fuckers know this is our crown
Two Uptown bullies, Brooklyn Biggie
Bedstuy Hov like Bedstuy Gold

Behold the flyest, it's the Commission
Bentley drivers, Louis Vuitton buyers
Jet fuel abusers, sippin' Patruise
Once upon a time in America's muse

You based on us, you fiction
Ya eight's don't bust, you a constant contradiction
Ladies please use contraception
Conception's at a all time high with sexin', use protection

You fuckers shoulda never been born, shoulda never got signed
How the fuck you got on？
How the fuck you got Shawn？
I'm too advanced, the Lance Armstrong of the dance

Rubberband man before T.I. was
King of New York like B.I. was
B.K. all day, it's in my blood
You wanna see my mask and gloves？ What the fuck you want？

(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Two of the world's greatest
Brooklyn's Finest
The Commission lives on
B.I.G. Forever
The Biggie Duets
Let's go


5.Beef (Featuring Mobb Deep)

Lyricist：Burt Bacharach, Carlos Broady, Sean Puffy Combs, Hal David,
Phil Hurtt, Albert Johnson, Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Nashiem
Myrick, Bunny Sigler, Kazumi Tabata, Christopher Wallace

We here
We ain't goin' nowhere
Ya'll motherfuckers don't know what beef is

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 it

My Calico been cocked, this rap Alfred Hitchcock
Drop top notch playa hating won't stop
This instant, rappers too persistant
Quick to spit Biggie name on shit

Make my name taste like ass when you speak I
See me in the street your jewelry you can keep it
That'll be our little secret, see me, B that is, I that is, G
whiz
Motherfuckers still in my biz

Hope they know my nigga Gutter fuckin' kidnip kids
Fuck 'em in the ass, throw 'em over the bridge
That's how it is, my shit is laid out
Fuck that beef shit, that shit is played out

Y'all got to go, all I make is one phone call
All y'all dissapear by tomorrow
All your guns is borrowed, I don't feel sorrow
Actually, your man passed the gat to me, now check this

What's beef？ Beef is when you need two gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your moms ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you, guaranteed to be an ICU, one more time
What's beef？ Beef is when you make your enemies start your Jeep
Beef is when you roll no less than thirty deep
Beef is when I see you guaranteed to be a ICU, check it

I done clapped at the best of them
Been caused the death of them
These dudes don't want no more
Shit is affecting them tops popped off

Them niggaz from the bridge just be
Wildlin' on you line that red dot on you
Don't know or warn you, catch them all hogged up
Sober that ass up with clips, the ratchet spit

Number one with the buddhaka
Henny-Sour Diesel
Ain't no tellin what I do to ya
It's obvious ma you ain't fucking keep it moving ma

Pow, pow, pow, pow, pow they shot 'em in their cars
I wish I was there, I would of shot back all 'em
They fire return fire put it right back on 'em
Sacrifice myself for you no problem

In the flames I burn for my niggaz that's gone
And the niggaz that took the hits on my niggaz you been warned
P's not the one, Hav not the one
You try to run up on us, we already bustin' the guns

What's beef？ Beef is when you need two gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your moms ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you, guaranteed to be an ICU, one more time
What's beef？ Beef is when you make your enemies start your Jeep
Beef is when you roll no less than thirty deep
Beef is when I see you guaranteed to be a ICU, check it

They'll be nothin' but smooth sailing
When I spit shots, now your crew's bailing
All I got is heat and tough talk for you
Tie you up, cut your balls off just for you

Man this is straight torture, look what that slick shit bought
ya
A first class ticket to Lucifer, real name Cristopher
Watch me set it off like Vivica
Here lies your demise, close your eyes

Think good thoughts, die while your skin start to glisten
Pale blue hands get cold, your soul's risen
It's bad 'cause I just begun
What make the shit real bad I was havin' fun

What's beef？ Beef is when you need two gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your moms ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you, guaranteed to be an ICU, one more time
What's beef？ Beef is when you make your enemies start your Jeep
Beef is when you roll no less than thirty deep
Beef is when I see you guaranteed to be a ICU, check it

Beef doesn't happen on records
Beef does not happen on records
You don't know what beef is
You don't want no beef you fuckin' fake

Studio ass gangsta rapping motherfuckers
Fuck outta here, Beef is B.I.G. not being here
Beef is your love ones not being here
Beef is every so-called ghetto superstar that rose

To the top and dropped just as quickly on some bullshit
What's beef 2006？ What's beef？
Yall motherfuckers don't know what beef is, fuck all ya'll
Bad Boy Bitch we still here


6.Hold Ya Head (Featuring Bob Marley)

Lyricist：Robert A Hall, Rita Marley, Christopher Wallace

Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause, her son had been shot down in the street and died
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause, her son had been shot down in the street and died

When I die, fuck it, I want to go to hell
'Cuz I'm a piece of shit, it ain't hard to fucking tell
It don't make sense going to heaven with the goodie goodies
Dressed in white, I like black timbs and black hoodies
God, would probably on some real strict shit
No sleepin' all day, no geting my dick licked

Hanging with the goodie goodies loungin' in the paradise
Fuck that shit, I want to tote guns and shoot dice
All my life, I've been considered as the worse
Lying to my mother, even stealing out her purse
Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion
I know my mother wish she got a fucking abortion

Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause, her son had been shot down in the street and died

I swear to God, I want to just slit my wrists and end this
bullshit
Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit
And squeeze, until the beds, completely red
I'm glad I'm dead, I'm worth a fuckin' Buddha 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
But no, you wouldn't understand

You see, it's 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's glad I'm gone
She knows, me and her sister had somethin' goin' on
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes？
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies

Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause, her son has been shot down in the street and died
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause, her son has been shot down in the street and died

I reach my peak, but I can't speak
Call my nigga Cheek, tell him that my will is weak
I'm sick of niggaz lyin', I'm sick of bitches hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'


7.Just a Memory (Featuring the Clipse)

Lyricist：Charles Aznavour, Don Black, Sean Combs, Robert Gall, Gerry
Goffin, Robert A Hall, George Johnson, Steven A Jordan, Ethram
Lopez, Jean Louhsdon, Michael Masser, Derek Murphy, Billy
Preston, Christopher Wallace

It's bad boy bitch
Scram Jones, the Clipse, B.I.G.
Let's go

Niggaz in my faction don't like asking questions
Strictly gun testing, coke measuring
Giving pleasure in the Benz-ito
Hitting 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
Muah, 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 crying
The kids, the dog, everybody dyin', no lying
So don't you get suspicious
I'm Big dangerous you're just a likkle 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
(Big don't fold y'all)
I spit phrases that'll thrill you
(Thrill you)
You're nobody till somebody kills you
(I don't wanna die)

Do you know where you're going too
Just, just a memory, everybody dying
When I throw my clip in the AK
May you rest in peace
You're nobody till somebody kills you

Do you know where you're goin' too
Just, just a memory, so, so you better pack a pistol
Everybody dying, death controls y'all
You're nobody till somebody kills you

Label limbo, I treat it like the wind blows
My back don't bend, see papi is my kinfolk
Spin out the work, as if it's on a ten spoke
Soul benefactor the Benz, he made the rims poke
Trust me they can't touch P, in one touchier
Turn drop-head coupe to dune-buggy
Admire the verses, their inspired by the hearses
That carried my niggaz, and had the church mothers cursing

Imagine the glamor that comes out the flow
Of a nigga who still play in the snow like Santa
The wrist is rushing, my ears is blushing
And the diamonds in my chain, big as grandma's buttons
(Yes)
On the flip side, the steel I'm gripping
You thought all the floss had me slipping？
Think again, blink again let me know that your bluffing
Lead give permanent concussion, your nothing

Do you know where you're going too
Just, just a memory, everybody dying
When I throw my clip in the AK
May you rest in peace
You're nobody till somebody kills you

Do you know where you're goin' too
Just, just a memory, so, so you better pack a pistol
Everybody dying, death controls y'all
You're nobody till somebody kills you

Ha ha ha ha ha, check out the fisad
On the face of rap, so we gon raise the bar
A mil on the crib, mean a quarter on the car
Bentley coupe another short of the arnage
Even as a youth I was laundering the stoop
Underneath the nose, and the Feds had no clue
I was pushing keys in a V with no roof
Rich, black, two big guns and no coof

Things at the label, well they tend to get unstable
And that pretty much leave Malice at the table
Or over the stove with the flame to the ladle
Because I'm a provider as long as I am able
This here hughe the most foolish of blues
When I tell my mom the price, she damn near sent me to my room
It's the M A L I C I O U S
You don't wanna try nigga, you next

Do you know where you're going too
Just, just a memory, everybody dying
When I throw my clip in the AK
May you rest in peace
You're nobody till somebody kills you

Do you know where you're goin' too
Just, just a memory, so, so you better pack a pistol
Everybody dying, death controls y'all
You're nobody till somebody kills you

Biggie duets, born again
Life after death, legacy lives on and on, and on
These motherfuckers still can't see you Big
Shit you ain't even here
Motherfuckers better step their game up
Greatest of all time, greatest of all time
Motherfuckers


8.Hope You Niggas Sleep - Featuring Hot Boys／Big Timer

Lyricist：O Harvey, Christopher Wallace

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 s＊＊＊
Chump, I'm making hits, no time for the crack rock and s＊＊＊
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 Teddy 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 n＊＊＊＊s just can't understand it

I bust a cap for the brothers in Nap Nap, Comstock
And Clinton, you know my s＊＊＊ is hitting
Yeah ya'll a fly n＊＊＊＊, Biggie Smalls
Kicking flavor, make a n＊＊＊＊ 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 n＊＊＊＊s sleep

I throw a bomb through you window
Burn you up and your h＊＊
I catch your mama going to therapy
And cut her throat

You lil' sister walking home from school
I abduct her, then I f＊＊＊ her
I hit ya park close up with the Louisville Slugger
BGeezy is the h＊＊＊＊＊, ignorant motherf＊＊＊er

I was taught how to bust heads by the best head busters
Cluckers, you know I got'em 2 for 1 my n＊＊＊＊
I'm on V.L. if you want me, get some my n＊＊＊＊, come on

Thuggin' is my thing, if I'm beefing I'm bangin'
Slanging, it's in my nature, gotta be about my paper
Haters, I don't like 'em, b＊＊＊＊es, I don't trust 'em
N＊＊＊＊s, I can't stand 'em, I creep down and pluck 'em

Strap say in my hand, I gotta protect mine
N＊＊＊＊s trying to pull it off, pop goes the nine
That's how it gotta be in these uptown streets
And a n＊＊＊＊ like me, I play the game for keep

I remember when n＊＊＊＊z 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 B＊＊＊＊
On some ol' n＊＊＊＊ f＊＊＊ wit me I'ma do 'em s＊＊＊

N＊＊＊＊ 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 Hennessey
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 s＊＊＊ cause I don't f＊＊＊ with scrubs
I don't need you harassing me when I'm up in the club
Trying to hustle a n＊＊＊＊, asking me for a dub
Quarter, ki's, and halfs is what I sling â~cause that's what I
love

I know you b＊＊＊＊es know that I ain't to be played with
Dont have no picks and chooses who get they head split
They die quick, f＊＊＊in' 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 n＊＊＊＊ steal me
F＊＊＊ 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

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 â~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, n＊＊＊＊ break it off, what

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 n＊＊＊＊s


9.Notorious B.I.G. - Featuring Lil' Kim／Puff Daddy

Lyricist：Sean Combs, Kimberly Jones, Simon Lebon, Nick Rhodes, John
Taylor, Davin Paul Vanderpool, Christopher Wallace

Yo, check it, call Lil' Cease
Tell that muh'f＊＊＊er to bring me some muh'f＊＊＊in' weed
For this hospital, man f＊＊＊ 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'f＊＊＊er get this n＊＊＊＊ next door up out of here
N＊＊＊＊ be snorin' all night I can't sleep
Call that big butt nurse with the long hair to come suck my dick

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

N＊＊＊＊z say I died dead in the streets
N＊＊＊＊ I'm gettin' high, gettin' head on the beach
Chillin', sittin' on about half a million
With all my n＊＊＊＊z, 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, f＊＊＊ them tricks
Any repercussion, Junior M.A.F.I.A. spit clips

All the time, Big Poppa kick the war rhymes
Raw flows, and that's how it goes

Notorious
C'mon, we are, we are
No, no, no, notorious
He is, he is
No, no, no, notorious

This for my n＊＊＊＊z slingin' thangs, had my ring encaged
Truck, necklace, igloo ring and things
For the b＊＊＊＊es, who see them rims spin and grin
That s＊＊＊ with the V-trim that win

And the enormous fields disperse of rap
On the road to the riches more furs to drag
More n＊＊＊＊z 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 f＊＊＊
Untwist and bend her up, you know the deal

N＊＊＊＊z talkin' real greasy on some ballin' s＊＊＊
Funny how quick these pricks forget
Actin' like I ain't the reason they traded they s＊＊＊
Switched that 5, copped that 6

It's all good, you know who the clone is
F＊＊＊ the Joneses, n＊＊＊＊z tryin' to keep up with the Combses

C'mon y'all
Notorious
We are, we are
No, no, no, notorious
He is, he is
No, no, no, notorious

Who that queen b＊＊＊＊, 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 f＊＊＊

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 '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 stilettos

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

She did you a favor, c'mon now, yeah
Notorious
No, no, no, notorious
He is, he is
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
No, no, no, notorious
We are, we are
Bad Boy 2000
No, no, no, notorious

B.I.G. Born Again
And he won't stop
No, no, no, notorious
â~Cause he can't stop, yeah
We are, we are
No, no, no, notorious
He is, he is


10.Dangerous MC's - Featuring Mark Curry／Snoop Dogg／Busta Rhymes

Lyricist：Calvin Broadus, Mark Curry, Dominick Lamb, Trevor Smith,
Christopher Wallace

Yeah, ninety-six, for my Nordstrom Ave n＊＊＊＊z
My Fulton Street n＊＊＊＊z, dangerous MC's

Diamonds on my neck, chrome drop-top
Chillin' on the scene, smokin' pounds of green
Ooh wee, you see, the ugliest
Money-hungriest, Brooklyn Loch Ness

Nine millimeter cock test, wan fi' test？
And the winner is, y'all n＊＊＊＊z know the rules
I blast on n＊＊＊＊z so 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 s＊＊＊ 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 n＊＊＊＊
But your weak-a＊＊ 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
Missed you by pinches, your talk is senseless

Actor needs chiropractor for cracked jaw
Yes I rocked your cheddar box
Dangerous you're not I gets down
Twist your body round and â~round, upside down

C'mon, yo, throw your hands c'mon
B＊＊＊＊ grab your tits c'mon
Let me know you in the spot
Bump your fists, c'mon

Thugs tote yo' s＊＊＊
We 'bout to get mo' rich, c'mon
Let's blow the club, c'mon
F＊＊＊ the place up, c'mon

Shake yo' nasty a＊＊
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
B＊＊＊＊ lick yo' lips, c'mon
Dangerous MC's
My n＊＊＊＊ this be the s＊＊＊, c'mon

Dangerous MC's
My n＊＊＊＊ this be the s＊＊＊, c'mon

Make money hand over fist
The bo-vines roam where chicken hearts 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 s＊＊＊, c'mon
N＊＊＊＊z grab your dicks, c'mon, b＊＊＊＊es rub your tits, c'mon

C'mon, yo, throw your hands c'mon
B＊＊＊＊ grab your tits c'mon
Let me know you in the spot
Bump your fists, c'mon

Thugs tote yo' s＊＊＊
We 'bout to get mo' rich, c'mon
Let's blow the club, c'mon
F＊＊＊ the place up, c'mon

Shake yo' nasty a＊＊
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
B＊＊＊＊ lick yo' lips, c'mon
Dangerous MC's
My n＊＊＊＊ this be the s＊＊＊, c'mon

Aww nah, big Snoop Dogg
Slap you with my paw, all across your jaw
Break fool on these b＊＊＊＊es while I'm breakin' the law
You come up in my room look b＊＊＊＊ you takin' it off

Follow me, I slip â~em, slide â~em, rip â~em, ride â~em,
provide â~em
With that West coast G s＊＊＊, L.B.C. s＊＊＊
We dips to this, make chips to this
And buy brand new whips and s＊＊＊, uh huh

I bet you didn't know that yo' b＊＊＊＊ was suckin' dick
Who you think she f＊＊＊in with？ Look here
My, Eastside lifestyle is way foul, move the crowd
Point a pistol at you b＊＊＊＊ n＊＊＊＊s, bla dow

How you like me now？
You got stuck and f＊＊＊ed, Doggystyle
100 spokes Day-tonas, bendin' the corner
All up in Crooklyn, bad b＊＊＊＊es are lookin'

C'mon, yo, throw your hands c'mon
B＊＊＊＊ grab your tits c'mon
Let me know you in the spot
Bump your fists, c'mon

Thugs tote yo' s＊＊＊
We 'bout to get mo' rich, c'mon
Let's blow the club, c'mon
F＊＊＊ the place up, c'mon

Shake yo' nasty a＊＊
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
B＊＊＊＊ lick yo' lips, c'mon
Dangerous MC's
My n＊＊＊＊ this be the s＊＊＊, c'mon

So you lovin' us so much this s＊＊＊ is bleedin' through you
If I worked in a restaurant
I'd s＊＊＊ in the food and feed it to you
Most of my n＊＊＊＊z cuckoo, easy to gas to shoot you

Even all of them Haitian n＊＊＊＊z won't believe this voodoo
Can yo' pussy be chaka, don't let me speak in patois
And kick you in your face like we playin' a game of soccer
I love to cock the glocka, stack up on loot and vodka

And f＊＊＊ your crew because all of y'all n＊＊＊＊z full of ca-ca
The way we doin damage tell me how the f＊＊＊ you manage
With my n＊＊＊＊z who marinate on foul thoughts and think savage
Them n＊＊＊＊z'll throw you in a manhole and push they hand in yo'
a＊＊

And pull yo' head right out yo' a＊＊hole
Parkay n＊＊＊＊ we rugged all day n＊＊＊＊
You ready to f＊＊＊ b＊＊＊＊？ F＊＊＊ the foreplay n＊＊＊＊
This me for all consumers, my n＊＊＊＊ f＊＊＊ the rumors
Three in the worst way of pure coke for all you drug abusers

C'mon, yo, throw your hands c'mon
B＊＊＊＊ grab your tits c'mon
Let me know you in the spot
Bump your fists, c'mon

Thugs tote yo' s＊＊＊
We 'bout to get mo' rich, c'mon
Let's blow the club, c'mon
F＊＊＊ the place up, c'mon

Shake yo' nasty a＊＊
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
B＊＊＊＊ lick yo' lips, c'mon
Dangerous MC's
My n＊＊＊＊ this be the s＊＊＊, c'mon

C'mon, yo, throw your hands c'mon
B＊＊＊＊ grab your tits c'mon
Let me know you in the spot
Bump your fists, c'mon

Thugs tote yo' s＊＊＊
We 'bout to get mo' rich, c'mon
Let's blow the club, c'mon
F＊＊＊ the place up, c'mon

Shake yo' nasty a＊＊
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
B＊＊＊＊ lick yo' lips, c'mon
Dangerous MC's
My n＊＊＊＊ this be the s＊＊＊, c'mon

C'mon, yo, throw your hands c'mon
B＊＊＊＊ grab your tits c'mon
Let me know you in the spot
Bump your fists, c'mon

Thugs tote yo' s＊＊＊
We 'bout to get mo' rich, c'mon
Let's blow the club, c'mon
F＊＊＊ the place up, c'mon

Shake yo' nasty a＊＊
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
B＊＊＊＊ lick yo' lips, c'mon
Dangerous MC's
My n＊＊＊＊ this be the s＊＊＊, c'mon
â¦


11.Bust A Nut

Lyricist：Luther R Campbell, Allen Toussaint, Christopher Wallace

Muthafucka, sometimes you feel like a nut
That's what you do
What we got here, uh, check it out
Here's another one, uh, uh
By the Notorious B.I.G.

Head, head and mo' head
Representing for the bitches
Head, head and mo' head
Check it out, check it out now, what？
Check it out, check it out now
Check it out, check it out now, uh, uh

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, yeah)
She even take it in the butt

Fuck for about an hour, now she want a golden shower
You didn't know that we be pissing on hoes, bitch
Luke and Biggie straight shitting on hoes, bitch

Lick your toes bitch, fuck no, you must be crazy
Squirt in your face and then I'm swayze
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 your ass on home
I roam in Lexuses and Benzes, the fly way
With the fliest bitch getting head on the highway

My way, deep throat on Luke's boat
When the moon rises, I'm coming in her eyeses
Just the way playas play
Leave it up to me, I get fucked all day

Sucked all day, smoking blunts, counting cheese
Fucking bitches 'til their assholes bleed
What you say, baby？

Sometimes Biggie Smalls like busting nuts
Sometimes Biggie Smalls like getting gut
Sometimes yours truly like busting nuts
Sometimes yours truly like getting guts

I gotta fuck her in the butt snatch
(Yeah)
I gotta fuck her in her muthafucking pussy
(Yeah)
I gotta fuck her doggie-style now
(Yeah)

I gotta fuck her muthafucking doggie-style
(Yeah)
We gotta suck, fuck, 69 now
(Yeah)
We gotta suck, fuck, 60-muthafucking-9
(Yeah)

But I tell you what I, I, I owe her one
All the fellas in the house say this
'This head is so damn good'
Tell them hoes
(This head is so damn good)

Now all the ladies in the house say
'This pussy, it taste so damn good'
Tell them niggas
(This pussy, it taste so damn good)

Now all the fellas in the house say
Say, 'This dick, it taste so damn good'
Tell them hoes
(This dick, it taste so damn good)

Sometimes Biggie Smalls like busting nuts
Sometimes Biggie Smalls like getting gut
Sometimes yours truly like busting nuts
Sometimes yours truly like getting guts

Biggie bag bitches from barbecues to Barmitzvah's
The Big don't fit, use your lips 'cause
I'm feeling kinda itchy for a quicky
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

In the duke shoot, then the bitch get the boot
Unless you 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

Yo, yo check it out, come on
Now check, check, check, check it out, now
My pee-pee has a first name
It's D-I-C-K-Y
My pee-pee has a best friend
It's P-U-S-S-Y

Now what I really wanna say
Now what I really wanna say
Is I hit it, eat it everyday

Now, before we go, we wanna know
If all the ladies in the house is strictly-dickly
Say it
(Strictly-dickly)
Say it
(Strictly-dickly)
Say it
(Strictly-dickly)

Now all the fellas in the house, all the fellas in the house
Say, say, we are muthafucking strictly-clikly
Say it
(Strictly-clikly)
Say it
(Strictly-clikly)
Say it
(Strictly-clikly)

Now all the ladies in the house, all the ladies in the house
I know we got to go now, I know we got to go now
I know we got to go now, so see you on the next page
See you on the muthafucking next page, biatch


Lyricist：Melissa A Elliott, Fabian Hamilton, Isaac Hayes, Kimberly
Jones, Christopher Wallace

Come on
It goes B to the I to the G so proper
Missy and Big Poppa
(Check it out)
Call us chief knockers

Damn ma, I love you like the lah, the ganja
Sensimilla, can I feel ya
All I wanna do is touch ya
The ultimate rush, you're drugs baby

Don't you know I'm the ultimate？ To get this nookie, be
fortunate
Just like tastin' pussy with pork in it
People stop when I'm walkin' in, I'm twistin' twistin' 'em
Back on ten, I'm talkin' 'bout like when Mase come back again

My ski's is immaculate, my paper stackin' keep trackin'
I'm mackin' yo slackin', reaction makes y'all dicks grin
I'm mo' better than gold diggers with figures
Mo' bigger than Jigga's and even Paris Hilton's

Damn sir, sniff me like the coke
Three lines, me one, give you none
Sent am-ilia, all you wanna do is sniff me
The ultimate rush, get high baby

Damn sir, sniff me like the coke
Three lines, me one, give you none
Sent am-ilia, all you wanna do is sniff me
The ultimate rush, the drugs baby

Damn ma, I love you like the lah, the ganja
Sensimilla, can I feel ya
All I wanna do is touch ya
The ultimate rush, you're drugs baby

Damn ma, I love you like the lah, the ganja
Sensimilla, can I feel ya
All I wanna do is touch ya
The ultimate rush, you're drugs baby

Now biggie smalls is not the type to fall in love with 'em
Hit 'em and forget 'em and go handle my business
I like the kind of whine and dine, who grindin' all the time
Your ex-girl was a fly, but now lucked up on a dime nigga

What is this with you？ All you wanna do is lay around
And stay around and get mad when I play around
I like to lay never work, put your money in my purse
To the mall, I go search matchin' shoes for my skirt

Tuesday, I saw you on the zee, but you still wanna get wit me
Wednesday is the Benz day, that's what your friends say
Me and my friends got your Benz, attractin' mens
And spendin' dividends, blowin' like the wind

Damn ma, I love you like the lah, the ganja
Sensimilla, can I feel ya
All I wanna do is touch ya
The ultimate rush, you're drugs baby

Damn ma, I love you like the lah, the ganja
Sensimilla, can I feel ya
All I wanna do is touch ya
The ultimate rush, you're drugs baby

So I guess you think I'm slippin' 'cause I ain't flippin'
Baby, I'm Big Poppa, ain't no need to be trippin'
I ain't trippin' nor flippin', I'm just liquor sippin'
At the bar, tippin' wit your money, can you pay the difference？

It seems like it's a waste of time, that's why I wrote the rhyme
I hear you jump in every car, except for mines
Nigga, I don't jump in cars, I'm a super star
Face way to flaw, you should hang me on your wall

All I do all day is drink Tanqueray
Thinking of a way to put a smile on your face
Make me smile, see them teeth, me look cute down to them
features
My waste, my physique, me don't want freak-a-leek

Should I whine and dine？ You put ring on your fingers
While sex from the next man in the bedroom lingers
Sex will never linger, hold up, put up the blinkers
I flow just like sprinklers, give yo ass the middle finger

You better slow your role baby
You ain't got enough dough to pay me
You know the pin number
Just page me when you will baby

Damn ma, I love you like the lah, the ganja
Sensimilla, can I feel ya
All I wanna do is touch ya
The ultimate rush, you're drugs baby

Damn ma, I love you like the lah, the ganja
Sensimilla, can I feel ya
All I wanna do is touch ya
The ultimate rush, you're drugs baby


Lyricist：Robert A Hall, Rita Marley, Christopher Wallace

Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died

When I die fuck it I want to go to hell
'Cuz I'm a piece of shit it ain't hard to fucking tell
It don't make sense going to heaven with the goodie goodies
Dressed in white, I like black timbs and black hoodies

God would probably have me on some real strict shit
No sleepin' all day, no getting my dick licked
Hanging with the goodie goodies loungin' in the paradise
Fuck that shit I want to tote guns and shoot dice

All my life I've been considered as the worst
Lying to my mother even stealing out her purse
Crime after crime from drugs to extortion
I know my mother wish she got a fucking abortion

Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died

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 beds, completely red
I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fuckin' buddha-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
But naw, you wouldn't understand

You see it's kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I crush 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 know me and her sister had somethin' goin' on
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes？
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies

Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son has been shot down in the street and died
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son has been shot down in the street and died

I reach my peak, I can't speak
Call my nigga Cheek, tell him that my will is weak
I'm sick of niggaz lyin', I'm sick of bitches hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'


Lyricist：Deric Michael Angelettie, Reginald Arvizu, Henri Charlemagne,
Jonathan Howsman Davis, Dwight Grant, O'shea Jackson, Eric
Matlock, Atticus Ross, Robert Ross, James Christian Shaffer,
Christopher Wallace

I wish I had another chance, another place in mind
I wish I had another chance and life had just begun

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'

The lesson from the Smith and Wesson 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

I am here, I'm watching you
(If I should die before I wake)
Love, the flesh, my blood's pourin' through
(If I should die before I wake)

This, can be, reality
(If I should die before I wake)
Wake, up, my dead face I see
(If I should die before I wake)
My dead face I see, my dead face I see

I wish I had another chance, another place in mind
I wish I had another chance and life had just begun

On your mark, get set, when I spark you're wet
Look how dark it get when you're marked wit death
Should I, start your breath or should I let you die
If he start to cry, ask why？

Lyrically, I'm worshiped, don't front, the word's sick
You cursed it, but rehearsed it
I drop unexpectedly like bird shit
You herbs get, stomped quickly for raw T's and show money

Don't forget the publishin', I'm punishin'
I'm done wit them, son I'm surprised you run wit them
I think they got comin', 'cause they nothin' but bitch
Tryna blow up like nitro wit dynamite sticks

Mad I smoke, but yo I rock diamonds that's sick
Got paper off my flow, ride wit my own click
Take chicks to Cairo, layin' wit yo' bitch
I know you playin' you was rich fuck you prick, when I see you
I'ma

I am here, I'm watching you
(When I see you I'ma)
Love, the flesh, my blood's pourin' through
(When I see you I'ma)

This, can be, reality
(When I see you I'ma)
Wake, up, my dead face I see
(When I see you I'ma, when I see you I'ma)
My dead face I see, my dead face I see
(When I see you I'ma)

I wish I had another chance, another place in mind
I wish I had another chance and life had just begun

I wish I had another chance, another place in mind
I wish I had another chance and life had just begun

I don't have to run, I don't have to run
I don't have to run, I don't have to run
When I see you I'ma, I don't have to run
When I see you I'ma, I don't have to run


15.1970 Somethin' (Featuring The Game ＆ Faith Evans)

Lyricist：Harry Wayne Casey, Stephen Ellis Garrett, Diana Eugena King,
Jack Knight, Jayceon Taylor, Christopher Wallace

1970 somethin'
1970 somethin'
1970 somethin'
1970 somethin'
1970 somethin'
1970 somethin'
1970 somethin'

1970 somethin'
Nigga I don't sweat the date my moms was late
So I had to plan my escape, out the skins
In this world the fly girls
Tangeray and Hennessey, until I call earl
10 months in this gut, wut the fuck
I wish moms would hurry up, so I can get buck wild
Juvenile with the mics and shit

New York, New York, ready for the likes of this
Then came the worst date, May 21st
2：19 was when my momma water burst
No spouse in the house, so she rolled herself
To the hospital, to see if she could get a little help
Umbilical cords 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 bad boy

I remember back in time
Before all the homies died
Before all the dollars and nines
I knew that I was goin' somewhere

Let me take you back in time
Before I even got the rhyme
Before I had nickels and dimes
I knew that I was goin' somewhere

When pop realized, if you let pac drive
Swear to God to reverse it I give my left eye
With the right I visualized, the king of bed-stuy
Checkin' his daughter T'Yonna into junior high
If I was in Brooklyn, and B.I. was still alive
In 2006 it might sound like this
N.Y. 718 212, with sues rendezvous
It's like Moulin Rouge

High fashion, up town Air Force Ones and Vasquez
Puerto Ricans with fat asses
Lace dutch masters, we dump ashes
On models and S classes, for you bastards
Catch a cab to Manhattan, with that Broadway actin'
You hype that belly shit, would you get you capped
And wrapped in plastic, tell the captain, S Roge what's
happenin'？

I remember back in time
Before all the homies died
Before all the dollars and nines
I knew that I was goin' somewhere

Let me take you back in time

Now I'm 13 smokin' blunts, makin' green
Or on the drug scene, fuck the football team
Risk it, 'rupt your spleens, by the age of 16
Hearin' the coach scream, make my lifetime dream
I mean, I wanna blow up, stack my doe up
So school I didn't show up, and fuck 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, naw! I 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
See 74' March 8, set me straight
Not able to move behind a great steal gate
Time to contemplate, damn were did I fail
All the money I stacked, was all the money for bail

I remember back in time
Before all the homies died
Before all the dollars and nines
I knew that I was goin' somewhere

Let me take you back in time
Before I even got the rhyme
Before I had nickels and dimes
I knew that I was goin' somewhere, yeah
(But I knew I)
(Knew that I was goin' somewhere, yeah, yeah)


16.DA-B-side

Lyricist：Kandi Burruss, Raymond Calhoun, Jermaine Dupri, Herbie
Hancock, Shawntae Harris, Carl Lowe, Christopher Wallace

B side, B side, ha check it, So So Def
Bad Boy collaboration, the Notorious B.I.G. in the house
We got Da Brat in the house and me
Y'all know who I be, check it

I got that shit all you niggas just love to ride to
Funk for your trunk is what I provide you
So slide through your hood with me in your deck
Cause your correct way to get your groove on flomps

And I paid the costs to be the boss as a kid
Fucked around and made some shit you can't fuck with
They thought luck did it but it didn't 'cause I'm back again
Back with the B.I.G. and my new-found friend

Sliding in from the front, never way behind
Niggas wonder how I came with this style of mine
Remain in your seats as I release the clip into yo' hip
Brat and Biggie Smalls

Aw shit, on top of all that, I'm so, so remarkable
Flow to make you motherfuckers know
Ain't an MC coming close to touch
Bitches I like to fuck, guns I like to bust, so

Lay on back, light up the blunts
As we give you motherfuckers just what you want
Lay on back, light up the blunts
As we give you motherfuckers just what you want

I never knew, niggas had a clue on who was the king of the
street
More deep than a Range Rover jeep, guns under the seat
And my nigga just came home from work, release
Cristal in my lap, chronic in the air

Nigga, pass that shit like you just don't care
Yeah, you on my shit list, Biggie burns spliffs
When I'm pissed, release the Rolex from your wrist
Nigga, no human being, Korean or European

Be seein' what B.I.G. be seein', I leave 'em peein'
In they draws because Biggie Smalls is far from weak
Brat-tat-tat, please speak, nigga close your eyes
'Cause you already see the Notorious B R A T

The raw combination, the destination
Number one tote a gun with no hesitation
Live with the funkdafied cutie pie
Gat by the thigh, the Smalls by her side

If you fuck with her you got to fuck with me
And we'll be rapping at your motherfuckin' eulogy, so

Lay on back, light up the blunts
As we give you motherfuckers just what you want
Lay on back, light up the blunts
As we give you motherfuckers just what you want

Brat-tat-tat-tat, please speak

I got the funk in my pocket, shit stay locked down
The nigga you know who represent them platinum sounds
Now baby Biggie, I done heard that Juicy
Didn't find nothin' but truth in the hook B

You're pledging to wreck with a notorious nigga ready to die
Jump in the Benz, took me a little ride
Round the mountain, broke a left, hit So So Def
And told the nigga JD I was the one, fuck the rest

We funkdafied, kicking it live
Robin Leach teach a nigga how to really survive
Whether it be track or blunt, ain't no need to front
Got what you need and I take everything you ever wanted

Nigga, we comin' mass, his pimpin' ass
His glass is full of Moet, the Rolex is bar-bayed
Parkade, B to the R A T
Rolling off swoll on chrome 17

Lay on back, light up the blunts
As we give you motherfuckers just what you want
Lay on back, light up the blunts
As we give you motherfuckers just what you want

Lay back, listen to the B side, slide, glide
Do whatever you want, get out your lighters
We be the rhyme writers, starters from the heart of College Park
New York, Chicago, wherever you wanna go


17.Spit Your Game

Lyricist：Joey Brooks, Sean Puffy Combs, Anthony Henderson, Steven
Howse, Steven Jordan, Bryon Mccane, Carl Terrell Mitchell,
Christopher Wallace

Notorious

Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat
Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat
Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks

Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one
Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks

Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one

Armed and dangerous, ain't too many can bang wit' 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, tryin' not to sin
High off weed and lots of gin, so much smoke need oxygen
Steadily countin' them Benjamins
Nigga you should to if you knew wut this game would do to you
Bin in this shit since '92, 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 knew like Mike-shit not to be fuck wit'
Muthafucka betta duck quick, 'cuz me and my dogs love to buck
shit
Fuck the luck shit, strictly aim no aspiration to quit da game

Spit yo' game, talk yo shit, grab yo gat, call your clicks
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass dat weed, l gotta
light one
All them niggas l gotta fight one, all them hoes l gotta like
one
Our situation is a tight one, what you wanna do？ Fight or run？

Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one

Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one

Making money livin' marvelous, in God we trust
Don't too many niggas wanna start wit' us
Got big guns in the cars wit' us
Bust at any muther fucka actin' hard wit' us

Don't really wanna show you wut a G.I.B.
I'd rather be sippin' Remy in V.I.P.
When you hear the music it'll be by me
Twista with the legendary nigga B.I.G.

Brooklyn and K-Town, when you checkin' out the flow
You know it's gonna rain with persistence
Two legends on the same track
Two different plains of existence

Let's get it crackin' I love to bust flows
Hit it from the back, 'cus I love to buck hoe
Spit it for the city, I love Chicago
Calicoes buck, I love to bust those

You think you can spit on the mike like Biggie
And flow just as steady as I
Shit is real you know you love him
You ain't got ready to die

Life after death, give to 'em, however you want it nigga
That a day after, give it to ya, however you want it nigga
'Cus the shit is giddie, so I carry big heat
Screamin' come and get me, Twista and Biggie on the Swizz beat

Three mils I love to make one, all these cars I love to ride one
All these hoes I love to cut one, a tribute to B.I.G. I love to
bust one

Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one

Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one

In the middle of it hammer, bring niggas more drama
Than they baby mama, nigga on my back I'ma bomb ya
One man but attack like a pack of piranhas, like terracotta
Niggas always ready for war, they don't really wanna see a nigga
tho
We can hit 'em, in a minute, then be finished with 'em
Hit 'em with the venom of a nigga with a sick-o flo

Here wit Swizz, oh, no, niggas in trouble
Somebody better call po-po, it's gonna be murder
When I get to servin' them burners
And niggas y'all heard of me, brick city killa, nigga word to me
And I'm passed that like Bernie Magic wit' a jack
That'll snatch that rep and stack some, drag him

Double on that back random, with the bullets stop brand him
Feeling hard you can't harass him
Put it up in your magic, catch the magnum flashing cannons
Niggas ain't ready for this one, 'cus I'm on a mission
To get even better than, believe it I'm heavily heated
It's easy to see it, if you wanna see me let that be the reason

Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one

Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your clicks
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one
Squeeze your clip, hit the right one, pass that weed, I got to
light one

Notorious, Notorious
Notorious, Notorious


18.DJ Enuff Freestyle

Lyricist：Cameron Giles, Greg Green, Laron James, J Jones, Renee Kirk,
Earl Randle, S Thomas

All I want is bitches, big booty bitches
Use to sell crack so I could stack my riches
Now I peak gnats to stop all the snitchin'
From stayin' in my business

What is this？ Relentless approach to know if your broke or not
Just 'cuz I joke and smoke alot
Don't mean I don't tote the glock
16 shots for my niggaz in the pen
Until we mothafuckin' meet again, yeah

I'm doin rhymes now fuck the crimes now
C'mon on to ave, I'm real hard to find now
'Cuz I knee deep in the beats
In the landcruiser jeep with the mack 10 by the seats

For the jackers and jealous ass crackers in blue suits
Make your prove that its bullet proof
Hold your head 'cuz when u hit the bricks I got jin mad blunts
And bitches suckin argh

I'm stickin ice picks on the tip of your dick
Give your testacles a swift kick ain't that some shit
Am I hard hard-core harder than the plymeth
Aint no myth its a nigga with its spliff and the crome four
fifth

Pressed on ya back
So wat u want knocka
What u want to act？

I hope civilized 'cuz I love to see niggaz die
Brains all leakin' out on the streets
And the pastor preachin', 'He was a good man'
Claimed a bad man when the burner was in his hand

Nows hes singin' sad songs with Elvis
3 to the head 'bout 6 across the pelvis
Fuck wit the high guy uou die
Your the same mothafucka kickin', look up in the sky

I'm on some more neck shit, suplex shit
Hardcore sex shit and text shit, what u want knocka？


19.Whatchu Want - The Commission (Featuring Jay-Z)

Lyricist：Shawn C Carter, Osten S Harvey, Christopher Wallace

Throw your hands in the sky, nigga

I'm stickin' ice picks on the tip of ya dick
Give your testicles a swift kick, ain't that some shit？
Am I hard hardcore？ Harder than the Plymouth
It ain't no myth, it's a nigga with the spliff

And a chrome four fifth pressed on ya back
So what you want, nigga？ How you wanna act？
I hope civilized 'cause I love to see niggaz die
Brains all leakin' out on the street

And the pastor preachin', 'He was a good man'
Played the bad man when the burner was in his hand
Now he's singin' sad songs with Elvis
Three to the head, 'bout six cross the pelvis

Ya fuck with the high guy, ya die
Yeah, the same motherfucker kickin', 'Look up in the sky'
I'm on some old neck shit, suplex shit
Hardcore sex shit and Tec shit

Whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？

Whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？

Whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？

Whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？

A repetitive loop, all I need to destroy a soloist or group
I put it to ya boy, hope you got the scoop
Biggie Smalls, the rap genius
I keep the Glock by the penis, the cleanest cut

Fuck the sluts with the big humongous butts
I use a rubber butt
My style is gushy like a hooker's pussy
And it don't take a lot of back talk to push me

Into flamin' 'em like that little nigga Damien
Pop 19 to my motherfuckin' cranium
Game tight, gun totin' motherfucker
Niggaz in the grave thought Biggie was a sucker

I tricked 'em, I gave 'em work then I sticked 'em
I stripped 'em 'cause niggaz don't want the friction
Told you before how I bring the drama
Slam Larry Johnson and his grandmama

Whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？

Whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
(Yeah, aye yo)
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
(Time to bring 'em back)

Whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
(It's the Commission, niggaz)
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
(B.I.G. lives on)

Whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
(No remorse, Brooklyn)
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
(Let's go)

It's fuckin' deadly, Lucky Lefty of the Commission
Bow down, by now you fuckers know this is our crown
Two Uptown bullies, Brooklyn Biggie
Bedstuy Hov like Bedstuy Gold

Behold the flyest, the Commission, the Commission
Bentley drivers, Louis Vuitton buyers
Jet fuel abusers, sippin' Patruise
Once upon a time in America's muse

You based on us, you fiction
Ya Eight's don't bust, you a constant contradiction
Ladies, please use contraception
Conception's at a all time high with sexin', use protection

You fuckers shoulda never been born
Shoulda never got signed, how the fuck you got on？
How the fuck you got Shawn？
I'm too advanced, the Lance Armstrong of the dance

Rubberband man before T.I. was
King of New York like B.I. was
B.K. all day, it's in my blood
You wanna see my mask and gloves？

What the fuck you want？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？

Whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？

Whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？

Whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want, nigga？
Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want, nigga？

Two of the world's greatest, Brooklyn's finest
The Commission lives on, B.I.G. forever
The Biggie Duets, let's go


Lyricist：Burt Bacharach, Carlos Broady, Sean Puffy Combs, Hal David,
Phil Hurtt, Albert Johnson, Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Nashiem
Myrick, Bunny Sigler, Kazumi Tabata, Christopher Wallace

We here, we ain't goin' nowhere
Y'all motherfuckers don't know what beef is

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'
We'll reach the fuckin' ceilin', check it

My Calico been cocked, this rap Alfred Hitchcock
Drop top notch, playa hatin' won't stop
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'll be our little secret, see me, B that is, I that is, G
whiz
Motherfuckers still in my biz

Hope they know my nigga gutter fuckin' kidnap kids
Fuck 'em in the ass, throw 'em over the bridge
That's how it is, my shit is laid out
Fuck that beef shit, that shit is played out

Y'all got to go, all I make is one phone call
All y'all disappear by tomorrow
All your guns is borrowed, I don't feel sorrow
Actually, your man passed the gat to me, now check this

What's beef？ Beef is when you need two gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your mom's ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you, guaranteed to be an I.C.U., one more
time

What's beef？ Beef is when you make your enemies start your Jeep
Beef is when you roll no less than thirty deep
Beef is when I see you, guaranteed to be an I.C.U., check it

I done clapped at the best of them, been caused the death of
them
These dudes don't want no more, shit is affectin' them
Tops popped off, them niggaz from the bridge
Just be wildin' on you line, that red dot on you

Don't know or warn you, catch them all hogged up
Sober that ass up with clips, the ratchet spit
Number one with the buddhaka
Henny sour diesel, ain't no tellin' what I do to ya
It's obvious ma, you ain't fuckin', keep it movin' ma

Pow pow pow pow pow, they shot 'em in they cars
I wish I was there, I would've shot back all 'em
They fire return fire, put it right back on 'em
Sacrifice myself for you no problem

In the flames I burn for my niggaz that's gone
And the niggaz that took the hits on my niggaz
You been warned, P's not the one, Hav not the one
You try to run up on us, we already bustin' the guns

What's beef？ Beef is when you need two gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your mom's ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you, guaranteed to be an I.C.U., one more
time

What's beef？ Beef is when you make your enemies start your Jeep
Beef is when you roll no less than thirty deep
Beef is when I see you, guaranteed to be an I.C.U., check it

They'll be nothin' but smooth sailin'
When I spit shots, now your crew's bailin'
All I got is heat and tough talk for you
Tie you up, cut your balls off just for you

Man this is straight torture, look what that slick shit bought
ya
A first class ticket to Lucifer, real name Christopher
Watch me set it off like Vivica, here lies your demise
Close your eyes, think good thoughts

Die while your skin start to glisten
Pale blue hands get cold, your soul's risen
It's bad 'cause I just begun
What make the shit real bad, I was havin' fun

What's beef？ Beef is when you need two gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your mom's ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you, guaranteed to be an I.C.U., one more
time

What's beef？ Beef is when you make your enemies start your Jeep
Beef is when you roll no less than thirty deep
Beef is when I see you, guaranteed to be an I.C.U., check it

Beef doesn't happen on records, beef does not happen on records
You don't know what beef is, you don't want no beef
You fuckin' fake studio ass, gangsta rappin' motherfuckers
Fuck outta here

Beef is B.I.G. not bein' here, beef is your love ones not bein'
here
Beef is every so called ghetto superstar that rose to the top
And dropped just as quickly on some bullshit, what's beef 2006？
What's beef？ Y'all motherfuckers don't know what beef is
Fuck all y'all, Bad Boy Bitch we still here


Lyricist：Charles Aznavour, Don Black, Sean Combs, Robert Gall, Gerry
Goffin, Robert A Hall, George Johnson, Steven A Jordan, Ethram
Lopez, Jean Louhsdon, Michael Masser, Derek Murphy, Billy
Preston, Christopher Wallace

It's Bad Boy bitch, Scram Jones, the Clipse B I G, let's go

Niggaz in my faction don't like asking questions
Strictly gun testing, coke measuring
Giving pleasure in the Benzito
Hitting 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
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 crying
The kids, the dog, everybody dyin', no lying
So don't you get suspicious
I'm Big dangerous you're just a Likkle 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, I spit phrases that'll thrill you
You're nobody till somebody kills you

Do you know where your going too
Just a memory everybody dying
When I throw my clip in the AK
May you rest in peace
Your nobody till somebody kills you

Do you know where your goin' too
Just a memory so you better pack a pistol
Everybody dying, death controls y'all
Your nobody till somebody kills you

Label limbo, I treat it like the wind blows
My back don't bend, see papi is my kenfolk
Spin out the work, as if its on a ten spoke
Soul benefactor the Benz, he made the rims poke

Trust me they can't touch P, in one touchie
Turn drop head coupe to dune buggy
Admire the verses, their inspired by the hearses
That carried my niggaz and had the church mothers cursing

Imagine the glamor that comes out the flow
Of a nigga who still play in the snow like Santa
The wrist is rushing, my ears is blushing
And the diamonds in my chain, big as grandma's buttons, yes

On the flip side, the steel I'm gripping
You thought all the floss had me slipping？
Think again, blink again let me know that your bluffing
Lead give permanent concussion, your nothing

Do you know where your going too
Just a memory everybody dying
When I throw my clip in the AK
May you rest in peace
Your nobody till somebody kills you

Do you know where your goin' too
Just a memory so you better pack a pistol
Everybody dying, death controls y'all
Your nobody till somebody kills you

Check out the fisad
On the face of rap, so we gon raise the bar
A mil on the crib, mean a quarter on the car
Bentley coupe another short of the arnage
Even as a youth I was laundering the stoop
Underneath the nose and the Feds had no clue

I was pushing keys in a V with no roof
Rich, black, two big guns and no coof
Things at the label, well they tend to get unstable
And that pretty much leave Malice at the table

Or over the stove with the flame to the ladle
Because I'm a provider as long as I am able
This here hughe the most foolish of blues
When I tell my mother the price
She damn near sent me to my room

It's the M A L I C I O U S
You don't wanna try nigga, you next, uh

Do you know where your going too
Just a memory everybody dying
When I throw my clip in the AK
May you rest in peace
Your nobody till somebody kills you

Do you know where your goin' too
Just a memory so you better pack a pistol
Everybody dying, death controls y'all
Your nobody till somebody kills you

Biggie Duets, Born Again, Life After Death
Legacy lives on and on, and on
These motherfuckers still can't see you BIG
Shit you ain't even here
Motherfuckers better step their game up
Greatest of all time, greatest of all time, motherfuckers


22.1970 Somethin' (Featuring The Game and Faith Evans)

Lyricist：Harry Wayne Casey, Stephen Ellis Garrett, Diana Eugena King,
Jack Knight, Jayceon Taylor, Christopher Wallace

1970 somethin', 1970 somethin'
1970 somethin', 1970 somethin'
1970 somethin', 1970 somethin'
1970 somethin',

1970 somethin' nigga I don't sweat the date my moms was late
So I had to plan my escape, out the skins, in this world the fly
girls
Tangeray and Hennessey, until I call Earl, 10 months in this gut
What the fuck, I wish moms would hurry up, so I can get buck
wild

Juvenile with the mics and shit, New York, New York
Ready for the likes of this then came the worst date
May 21st, 2：19 was when my momma water burst
No spouse in the house, so she rolled herself to the hospital

To see if she could get a little help, umbilical cords 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, â½He's gonna be bad boyâ

I remember back in time, before all the homies died
Before all the dollars and nines, I knew that I was goin'
somewhere
Let me take you back in time, before I even got the rhyme
Before I had nickels and dimes, I knew that I was goin'
somewhere

Would Pac be alive？ If you let Pac drive swear to God to reverse
it
I give my left eye, with the right I visualized, the King of
Bedstuy
Checkin' his daughter Tianna into junior high, if I was in
Brooklyn
And B.I. was still alive, in 2006 it might sound like this, N.Y.
718 212

With sues rendezvous, it's like Moulin Rouge, high fashion
Up town air force ones and Vasquez, Puerto Ricans with fat asses
Lace dutch masters, we dump ashes on models and S classes
For you bastards, catch a cab to Manhattan with that Broadway
actin'

You hype that belly shit, would you get you capped
And wrapped in plastic, tell the captain, S Roge was happennin'
Nor hear nor speak no evil, inside the magnum

I remember back in time, before all the homies died
Before all the dollars and nines, I knew that I was goin'
somewhere
Let me take you back in time

Now I'm 13 smokin' blunts, makin' green, or on the drug scene
Fuck the football team, risk it, rupt your spleens, by the age
of 16
Hearin' the coach scream, make my lifetime dream, I mean
I wanna blow up, stack my doe up, so school I didn't show up

And 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 I 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, see '74 March 8, set me straight, not able to move
Behind a great steal gate, time to contemplate, damn were did I
fail
All the money I stacked, was all the money for bail

I remember back in time, before all the homies died
Before all the dollars and nines, I knew that I was goin'
somewhere
Let me take you back in time, before I even got the rhyme
Before I had nickels and dimes, I knew that I was goin'
somewhere, yeah

1970 somethin'
1970 somethin'
1970 somethin'
1970 somethin'

1970 somethin'


23.Breakin' Old Habits (Featuring T.I. and Slim Thug)

Lyricist：Shawn Carter, Sean Puffy Combs, Earl Ceasar De Rouen, Todd
Eric Gaither, Clifford Harris, Eddy Howard, Kelly Price, Oliver
Sain, Burton Smith, Rashad L. Gee Smith, Stayve Thomas,
Christopher Wallace

Hey, what it is pimpin'
Slim Thug and T.I.P. doing it B.I.G with B.I.G
Ya'll understand what I'm sayin', hey
PSC pimpin', ya'll already know what it is man, it's a bad boy
thang man
Grand hustle collaboration, ya'll already know man
Boss hog was happenin', a, a town pimpin', slim thugga

I roll scrap Glock 40 in my left
I rap but still think like I'm grindin' in the trep
Trynna dept to the change from the streets to the game
Can't be selling CDs and still selling dem thangs
'Cause bitches drop names and bring a lot of problems
And puttin' somthing in the head the only way you gonna solve
'em
Jack a stay plottin' watchin' your every move
And the minute you snooze will be the minute you lose, dude

Thus the rules, so I cruise with the 2's
To fix the damn fools that think I'm slippin' with my juice
Breakin' old habits so hard to do
Thus why you see me on the same block wit the same crew
And everybody sitting fat living good
And I'm the only nigga that be rappin' in my hood
I was raise by the hustlas and gain by the G's
And taught by the bosses howda stack that cheese

You got rich n g shits still a part of you
'Cause breakin' old habits so hard to do
You still watch for the haters and the rugged crew
'Cause breakin' old habits so hard to do
When I was shot that nigga like I started to
'Cause breakin' old habits so hard to do
Fresh out the dealership crackin' up with cigars in the coup
Man, 'cause breakin' old habits so hard to do, do

Damn, it feel good to see people up on it
Flip to keys in 2 weeks and didn't flawlet
My brain is horny with mean dreams GS's wit BB's on it
Supreme skeems to get richer, the richest quickly
Niggas wanna hit me if they get me trust my body
Check it, my lyrical carjack make ur brun splat
High callable gacks is all I fuck wit now keep the rough shit

In my circumfrence mad bitches, with mad noochies bulletproof
vestes Under they coochies spitting my oozie, don't lose me
My trigger niggas represent driving dirty in jay 30 getting bent
Until my hit hos my murder mamis
I be smoking trees in Belize when they find me
While you still killing niggas with my Lali like Cami
And Cyber Supres Cypress fucking Roy on the floor with the
finest

While I just slip coke smoke pounds of chope
Got lawyers watchin' lawyers, so I won't go broke
Now check it, dem country niggas call me Frank White
I'm spurtin' off in my law of course I know my shits tight
Suprise, open my eyes still suprise
Got my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs with
lovely
Utincils suhen my suhen my china thing
She half black half orientak 86 she got me rentals

You got rich n g shits still a part of you
'Cause breakin' old habits so hard to do
You still watch for the haters and the rugged crew
'Cause breakin' old habits so hard to do
When I was shot that nigga like I started to
'Cause breakin' old habits so hard to do
Fresh out the dealership crackin' up with cigars in the coup
Man, 'cause breakin' old habits so hard to do, do

I use to drive a Chevy Monte Carlo bricks n blow all in it
I was taught to sell dis shit you putcho nose all in it
Let my bitch drive da Benz but dem roads off limit
And how you call urself pimpin' with hos all in your bidness
What it is the music bidness of the streets, make the decision
I do this in my sleep and you way outcho division pimpin'
This game we play for keeps and the rules remain hidden
This ain't a place for laying the snitchin' shit is forbidden

I was sittin' in the kitchen and weepin' with hopes of getting
back
All that I forget to go blow see even 50 stacks
And now I am sittin' back thinkin' 'bout the time
When a nigga get a 100gs think he went down
And thangs ain't the same, they change it ain't fair
Real niggas there doin' dey time and ain't here
You commit the same crime, come home the same year

You got rich n g shits still a part of you
'Cause breakin' old habits so hard to do
You still watch for the haters and the rugged crew
'Cause breakin' old habits so hard to do
When I was shot that nigga like I started to
'Cause breakin' old habits so hard to do
Fresh out the dealership crackin' up with cigars in the coup
Man, 'cause breakin' old habits so hard to do, do


24.#!＊@ Me (Interlude)

Lyricist：Sean Combs, Christopher Wallace

Oh fuck me, you black mothafucka
Oh fuck me, you black Kentucky Fried Chicken eatin'
You mothafuckin' gangsta killin'
Mutha fuckin' black mafia ass
Muthafuck me, you, oh my God

You chronic smokin', Oreo cookie eatin'
Pickle juice drinkin', chicken gristle eatin'
Biscuit suckin', fucking muthafucka
V8 juice drinkin', slim fast, blink that
Black greasy muthafucka

What's my name？
Biggie
What's my name？
Biggie

I'm sorry
Oh shit, damn
Jenny Craig eatin' muthafucka
Fuck you bitch


25.B.I.G (Interlude)

Lyricist：Deric Angelettie, Christopher Wallace, Jesse Jr Weaver

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


26.My Downfall - Featuring DMC

Lyricist：Carlos Broady, Sean Combs, Darryl Mcdaniels, Nashiem Myrick,
Christopher Wallace

Yo
Sup hello？
Faith？
Motherfucker

Yo
Kill you motherfucker
Hello？
Kill you motherfucker

Word？
I'm gonna get you motherfucker
You better watch your motherfuckin' back
That's my word nigga

Get the fuck outta here
Better watch your motherfuckin' back
Watch my back？ Word？
I'm gonna get Biggie, I'm gonna kill Biggie

You soft dude, you soft
Fuck all you niggaz, you all ain't shit
Watch your motherfuckin' back
Eat a dick

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

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 I'm filled I'm 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

Apologies 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

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

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 to old school cats that call gats toolies
Call blacks moolies, think it's cool to smoke woolies
And fuck without rubbers
Specialize in killin' wives and grandmothers

Who ya trustin', shit when Frank start bustin', Frank start
somethin'
Killin' ya gently, God made 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

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

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,

All we got is more ice and more nice, sacrifice your heart
Lexus with the automatic start
Fifty shots'll tear your club apart
Eatin' shrimp outta cars, with some bitches from Brussels
Eatin' clams or mussels

Uhh, out the puss, 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

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 us
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

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


27.Miss You

Lyricist：Keir Gist, Darren Lighty, Lionel Richie, Christopher Wallace

Fam, you know what 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

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'
And the nigga just got moked out like that man
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 fish scale, 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 flattops, 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

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

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

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

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

Ooh, I'm missin' you
Tell me why the road turns, why it turns


28.You'll See

Lyricist：Nashiem Sa-allah Myrick, Christopher Wallace

Don't stop, I'm not finished yet
Don't stop, I'm not finished yet
Don't stop, I'm not finished yet
Don't stop, I'm not finished yet

Don't stop, I'm not finished yet
Don't stop, I'm not finished yet
Don't stop, I'm not finished yet
Don't stop, I'm not finished yet

Do you ever ask yourself, when are they ever gonna stop？
Do you ever ask yourself, when are they gonna stop making those
hits？
Do you ever ask yourself, when are they gonna stop making us
dance？
Do you ever ask yourself
When those bad boy are gonna stop making all this money？

I lick shots at intruders
Take the coke money and invest in computers
Tryin' to reach the next level, Rolex with the ice bezel
Coming through the ghetto, in a Porsche Carrero

But for now I'll play the back of the cruiser
Light another sack for the three time losers
Pour out some beer, bust out the ruger
Ladies and gentleman

Bullets will leave you tremblin'
Shooken up
I got my Cuban mommy cooking up
We got it all from Heron to Fishscale

New York to Ismail get locked, I'm gettin' bail
My style is flashy like a fiver strobes
Going around the globe, hunnies wearing silk robes
Time to flip the script, bust the whip

Legend with the chip, dark blue with my trunk dipped
To the feds, catch me if you can
I'm a still transport with my man on the Peter Pan
Get there and bury the bricks in the sand

They think I want a tan, I'm sittin' on a hundred grand
So I can hit the boat and take a shower
Head back to the airport, and hide the money in the tower
Stack blocks by the keys, L to the O to the X you'll see

Bad boy, bad boy, what you gonna do
What you gonna do when they come for you
(Gun cocking)
You'll see, you'll see
(Gun cocking)

Bad boy, bad boy, what you gonna do
What you gonna do when they come for you
(Gun cocking)
You'll see, you'll see
(Gun cocking)

See, it's 1996 man
And we gonna do the same thing to you we did to you in '95
We gonna keep hittin' you in your head with all that
Flaavvaa

Yeah aight then, you better act like you know
L to the O, X amount the flows
Ain't nothin' change but the range since I got the inf.
Dot on your head, take all your strength

Yeah, I'm in it for the green
I'll get up in your seam while I'm sonning you like a nigga from
Queens
My tape in your duel cassette running me
Tryin' to get in front of me playa, but you ain't gettin' none
of me

Better off gunnin' me, with hot slugs numbing me
'Cause you and I both know, the flow is coming B
When you want it？ Now or later？
I get mine and slide like a fresh pair of 'gators

With my mega click, involved in Montega bricks
Niggaz is mega sick, and you know we roll mega thick
Up north where they bust your man
In the custom van, interrupt your plans

Now it's back to grams, damn, ain't that somethin'
All that for frontin', what you gonna do？ Nothin'
So let's keep things rationalized
Everything I write better nationalize

I'm into gettin' money, twistin' hunnies
Niggaz is buyin' coupes while you on the stoop lookin' funny
I'm a scorer, shorty love the whole aura
Pussy wasn't all that, that's why I never called her

It's all about quick whips and fast knicks
Gats with mad clips, TV's in your whips
My style tight like Gotti when I touch you
Seasoned Picatti, or Versace joints with the buckle

Get the facts, I'm tryin' to get the Beamer with the hatch
Cop one for my man, so ill shits match
Runnin' around all crazy twistin' hunnies back
And breakin' niggaz that come to gamble with small stacks
Really though, screw y'all, I never knew y'all
Your click be like yellow lights, I'm runnin' through y'all

Bad boy, bad boy, what you gonna do
What you gonna do when they come for you
(Gun cocking)
You'll see, you'll see
(Gun cocking)

Bad boy, bad boy, what you gonna do
What you gonna do when they come for you
(Gun cocking)
You'll see, you'll see
(Gun cocking)

Yo, hard as it is to make a buck, I ain't tryin' to get stuck
So I'm a keep handlin' beef like I don't give a fuck
It's all about respect Tek-9's and papes
Big house in Italy, in the yard with hunnies crushin' grapes

So I go down to my steam room and give a long prayer
Knowing that one day I'll be Sheek Luchion the mayor
Fatigued out in my house or office
Blunt spots and crooked cops can't grow shit so the town
supports this
(Uh-hun)

My staff rollin' in Jags, Cruisers, and Coupes
Givin' rallies, and holdin' parades for the lifers groups
Now what you gon' do？
When they come for you

The same thing you been doing
Eye screwing
And bubble gum chewing
(Whoh)
While me and my mans are pursuin'

Who you think the ladies are enhancin'
Rocking Vansons, I'm dancing in the mansion
So cheers to life of the ice in your chains and your watches
And you'll see how we lock this

Bad boy, bad boy, what you gonna do
What you gonna do when they come for you
(Gun cocking)
You'll see, you'll see
(Gun cocking)

Bad boy, bad boy, what you gonna do
What you gonna do when they come for you
(Gun cocking)
You'll see, you'll see
(Gun cocking)

Click, click, uh, uh, uh
Niggaz talkin' it but ain't livin' it
Crystal pops I'm sippin' it, mob hats and lizard shit
'Gator trunks bitch, rollin' blunts with the williest of the
Willy

Hitchlin' cocked M-1's and nine millies
Stories like a motherfucker
(That's right)
Model bitches wondering if I'm a fuck with her
She know I treats my bitches like Ivana

Dolce and Gabana
Dippin'
Big poppa never slippin'
H-class diamonds shinin'

Dinner with the wifey winin', dinin'
Smoking cigars in Bogota
With Colombian niggaz named Panama
And Englique and shit

Games we play life endin'
Bitches bending over with ease
For a pair of Moschino jeans
And Donna Karan tank tops I got your bank stopped

Singles on top
Benjamins
Under the rest of 'em
Advancin'

From duplex to mansion
Stashing keys hidin' G's overseas
VCR's in my V's
Game elevates, money I make

Get's your stocks and real estates, bitch
Jet skiing in the Caribbean, white sands
Discussing plans with my mans
Dark blue land, smoke tint chrome rims and system

That leaves your rear views tremblin'
What you gonna do when poppa catch an attitude
Drop to your knees and show gratitude
Kiss my rings it's a Frank White thing I stay potent
Bitch is devoted, take my dick and deep throat it

You'll see, you'll see
(Don't stop)


29.Life After Death (Intro)

Lyricist：Sean Combs, Steven Jordan, Christopher Wallace

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, yo yo Big, aiyyo chill
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'

Aiyyo Big, aiyyo Big, damn, we was supposed 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, live your life


30.Player's Anthem

Lyricist：D Davies, Harvey Fuqua, Kimberly Jones, Clark Kent, James
Kowan Lloyd, Christopher Wallace, R Walters, Lottie M Wiggins

Niggaz, bitches, uh

(Niggaz)
Grab your dick if you love hip hop
(Bitches)
Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
Gotcha, open off the words I say because
'This type of shit, it happens everyday', Slick Rick

Check it out, uh
Now, who smoke more blunts than a little bit？
What are you a idiot？
Listen to the lyrics I spit like M1's

Got mad guns up in the cabin
'Cause Cease ain't the one for the dibbin' and dabbin' shit
I make it happen, you got your ass caught
All you saw was fire, from the Honda Passport

Or the M.P., what if you see, then I miss ya
I blow up spots like little sisters
G'wan grit ya teeth, g'wan bite ya nails to the cuticles
Like Murray, my killings be the most beautiful

Junior M.A.F.I.A. click, thick like Luke dancers
Niggaz grab your gats, bitches take a glance at
The little one, pullin' over in the Land Rover
Playin Big Willie style with a chauffeur, yak nah mean？
Stack the green, read all between the lines
A nigga act up, makes the bastard hard to find

(Niggaz)
Grab your dick if you love hip hop
(Bitches)
Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
Gotcha, open off the words I say because
'This type of shit, it happens everyday', Slick Rick

(Niggaz)
Grab your dick if you love hip hop
(Bitches)
Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
Gotcha, open off the words I say because
'This type of shit, it happens everyday', Slick Rick

(How ya livin' Biggie Smalls？)
I'm surrounded by criminals
Heavy rollers even the sheisty individuals
Smokin' skunk and mad Phillies
Beatin' down Billy bad asses, cracks in stacks and masses

If robbery's a class, bet I pass it
Shit get drastic, I'm buryin' ya bastards
Big Poppa never softenin'
Take you to the church, rob the preacher for the offerin'

Leave the fucker coughin' up blood and his pockets like rabbit
ears
Covered the wife, Kleenex for the kid's tears
Versace wear, Moschino on my bitches
She whippin' my ride, countin' my one's, thinkin' I'm richest

Just the way players play, all day everyday
I don't know what else to say
I've been robbin' niggaz since Run and them was singin' 'Here We
Go'
Snatchin' ropes at the Roxie homeboy, you didn't know

My flow, detrimental to your health
Usually roll for self, I have son ridin shotgun
My mind's my nine, my pen's my Mac-10
My target, all you wack niggaz, who started rappin'

Junior M.A.F.I.A. steelo, niggaz know the half
Caviar for breakfast, champagne bubble baths
Runnin' up in pretty bitches constantly
The Smalls bitch, who the fuck it was supposed to be？

(Niggaz)
Grab your dick if you love hip hop
(Bitches)
Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
Gotcha, open off the words, I say because
'This type of shit, it happens everyday', Slick Rick

(Niggaz)
Grab your dick if you love hip hop
(Bitches)
Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa
Gotcha, open off the words, I say because
'This type of shit, it happens everyday', Slick Rick

I used to pack Macs in Cadillacs
Now, I pimp gats in the Ac's, watch my niggaz backs
Nines in the stores, glocks in the bags
Maxin' mini-markets, gettin' money with the Arabs

No question, confession, yes, it's the lyrical
Bitches squeeze your tits, niggaz grab your genitals
Proteins and minerals, excluse subliminals
Big Momma shoots the game to all you Willies and criminals

I kick the rilli with my peeps all day
325's roll by with the windows down halfway
D-K-N-Y, oh my, I'm jiggy
It's all about the Smalls and my fuckin' nigga, Biggie

Bitches love the way I bust a rhyme
'Cause they all in line screamin' one more time
Niggaz, grab your dicks if you love hip hop
Bitches rub-a-dub in the back of the club, straight up


31.Another

Lyricist：Sean Puffy Combs, Kimberly Jones, Stephen K. Jordan, Barbara
Manson, Christopher Wallace

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

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 y'all, 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 trialled
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'
Pussy 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

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 y'all
Shoulda seen the hoe, nigga pack ya shit
You out the door, oh

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

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

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

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

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


32.Who Shot Ya

Lyricist：Sean Puffy Combs, Herbert Magidson, Nashiem Myrick,
Christopher Wallace, Allie Wrubel

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
9 to 5 motherfuckers, get live motherfuckers

Now turn the mics up, turn that mic up
Yeah, that beat is knockin' to that microphone
Turn that shit the fuck up, uh, what？
Turn it up louder, yeah, uh

As we proceed, to give you what you need
J.M. motherfuckers, J.M. motherfuckers
9 to 5 motherfuckers

Who shot ya, separate the weak from the obsolete
Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets
It's on nigga, fuck all that bickerin' beef
I can hear sweat tricklin' down your cheek

Your heartbeat soun' like Sasquatch feet
Thunderin', shakin' the concrete
Finish it, stop, when I foil the plot
Neighbors call the cops, said they heard mad shots

Saw me in the drop, 3 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 lyrical 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 Land cruisers
Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools
Niggaz mad because I know that Cash Rules

Everythin' around me, two glock nines
Any motherfucker whisperin' about mines
And I'm Crooklyn's finest
You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind this

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

I seen the light excite all the freaks
Stack mad chips, spread love with my peeps
Niggaz wanna creep, got to 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 thousand 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 slips on the Bailey's
On the rocks, tote glocks at christenings
And my cock, in the fire position and what？
(Get live motherfuckers)
(Ready to die motherfuckers)

C'mere, c'mere, open your fucking mouth, open your
Didn't I tell you don't fuck with me, huh？
Didn't I tell you not to fuck with me, huh？
Look at you now, huh？
Can't talk with a gun in your mouth, huh？
Bitch-ass nigga, what？

(Who shot ya？)
As we proceed to give you what you need
9 to 5 motherfuckers, get live motherfuckers
(Who shot ya？)
Get high motherfuckers, ready to die motherfuckers, hah
(Who shot ya？)

As we proceed to give you what you need
(Who shot ya？)
9 to 5 motherfuckers, east coast motherfuckers
(Who shot ya？)

West coast motherfuckers, west coast motherfuckers
As we proceed to give you what you need
As we proceed to give you what you need

Get live motherfuckers, 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 proceed to give you what you need


33.Nasty Boy

Lyricist：Sean Puffy Combs, Steven Jordan, Christopher Wallace

Yeah, word
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
(Yeah)

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
The bitch told me she wanted me to shit on her
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
She talkin' about no she want me to cock over her
And shit, on her stomach
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
Ya know I shit, after I shits on the bitch
The bitch, ya know, washed that shit off or whatever
(Ohh shit)

Come on, yeah
Come on, yeah
Come on, yeah
Come on, yeah
Come on, yeah

Come on, yeah
Come on, yeah
Come on, yeah
Come on, yeah
Come on, yeah

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 channel 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, aooww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot

By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
And I don't stop, until I squirt
Jeans skirt butt-naked it all work
You nasty boy, you nasty

You nasty boy, you nasty
You nasty boy, you nasty
You nasty boy, you nasty
You nasty boy, you nasty
You nasty boy, you nasty
You nasty boy, you nasty

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

A few puffs, eyes got low
And off to the bedroom we go mmm
Sex is drama, word to mama
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？

You nasty boy, you
You nasty boy, you
You nasty boy, you
You nasty boy, you
You nasty boy, you
You nasty boy, you
You nasty boy, you

Ladies, my Mercedes
Hold fo' in the back, two if they 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
Gaudier jeans jeans look like they painted on
Ask thee, leave it up to me
Lay her on back ever so gently

She like the way the dough 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


34.Hope You Niggas Sleep

Lyricist：O Harvey, Christopher Wallace

Check the pain I inflict like a convict, the Fulton digger
Jump in the Aura 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 gettin' crazy papes, gettin' 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, wreckin' shop
Gettin' props, provin' nobody drops

Words as potent as the blunt smokin' 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
Kickin' 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 Lane could get the scoop
What you think I'm stupid
My crew is mad deep, I hope you niggas sleep

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

B Geezy is the hustla, ignorant motherfucker
I was taught how to bust heads by the best head busters
Cluckers, you know I got'em two for one my nigga
I'm on V.L. if you want me, get some my nigga, come on

Thuggin' is my thing, if I'm beefin' I'm bangin'
Slangin', 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 stay in my hand, I gotta protect mine
Niggas tryin' 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 keeps

I remember when niggaz slang heroin up in balloons
I paid attention to everythin', 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 poppin' D, smokin' weed and full of that Hennessey
Fresh off the streets on my way to the penitentiary

Everybody whisper in ears when they gone mention me
I been out doin' it for years, since elementary
Real good relationship with guns and drugs
Because my whole neighborhood consist of crooks and thugs

Everythin' is my own shit, 'cause I don't fuck with scrubs
I don't need you harassin' me when I'm up in the club
Tryin' to hustle a nigga, askin' me for a dub
Quarter, ki's, and halfs is what I sling, 'cause that's what I
love

I know you bitches know that I ain't to be played with
Don't 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 get 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

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
'Fore I hurt them, desert eagle burstin'
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

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


35.Ms. Wallace

Lyricist：Christopher Wallace

As a child, Christopher was outspoken when it suited him
At times, he was quiet and of course, he was mischievous
As the all little boys are

As a young man, he'd like to do everything
He'd like to read, he'd like to be with his friends
As young kids or young boys, he enjoyed life
Everything that would make him happy or comfortable, he would do
But mostly, he enjoyed being with his friends and family

His early inspirations towards rap music were
The LLs of the world, the Sugar Hills, the Mr.magic
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, it is an 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 or 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 son's life, he developed paranoia
About death and about the dying
We are living in a world of imperfect human beings
We are greed, jealousy and envy
Or manifested by what others 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 or traveling
On the other hand, there were others who I should
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 son's 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
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
The thing 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 who appreciated the gifts that he gave
That's what he loved most


36.Going Back To Cali

Lyricist：Osten Harvey, Roger Troutman, Christopher Wallace

Yo!
Yo B.I.G. wake up, wake up baby
Mmm, yo
Yo B.I.G., wake yo' ass up c'mon

I'm up! I'm up, I'm up, I'm up
B.I.G. 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, yeah
Yo B.I.G., B.I.G., B.I.G.
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
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 B.I.G.
I'm up man
Flight five-oh-four

Alright 7：30
I'ma meet you at the airport
California
Yeah

When the la la 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
It's the, N-O, T-O, R-I, O U-S
You just, lay down, slow

Recognize a real Don when you see Juan
Sippin' on booze in the House of Blues

I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali

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 Fat burger
Spend about a week on Venice Beach
Sippin' Crist-o, with some freaks from Frisco

I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali

Cali got gun play, 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
Met this bitch at the Versace store
Said, she'll suck until I ain't got no more, only in L.A.

Bust on bitches belly, 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

I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali

I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali

I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali
I'm going, going, back, back to Cali, Cali


37.Real Niggaz

Lyricist：Deric Angelettie, Sean Combs, Todd Eric Gaither, Kimberly
Jones, Christopher Wallace

Bad Boy in' the house for the '95
Big shout out to my man Mel Smith
My man Don Cee San in' the house
What's up Michelle Ray, what's up boo？

Sick of mama screaming that, 'Get a job, nigga'
Pressed to the limit, got to rob me a nigga
Simple and plain, my man scooped me in' a hooptie
Whispered in his ear 'This is what we got to do, G'

Got to bang a nigga and bang a nigga good
So I can cop a Benz and drive the fuck out the hood
'Cause baby-mama screaming, 'Your daughter 12 months'
Can't live life swinging rocks and smoking blunts

Hanging wit' the niggas don't pay the bills
And being broke and 30 give a nigga the chills
So what we gotta do is creep and see a sweet vic
Yo, you see that shit？
(Hell yeah, I seen that shit)

Columbian Dominican, yeah whateva
Whoever he was, he had it tucked under the leather
Two keys, 20 G's, nigga please,
Blew his brain's out 'cause witnesses we don't leave

On the road to riches and diamond rings
'Cause real niggaz do real things
Hanging wit' the niggaz is the song I sing
Real niggaz do real things

On the road to riches and diamond rings
Real niggaz do real things
Hanging wit' the niggaz is the song I sing
Real niggaz do real things

After mad blunts and gin we had the plan made
I bought my wifey a crib, I bought the mafia, a arcade
Mad games, pool tables and candy
A little extra chicken loot be comin' in handy

Check it, got on some '95 shit, sold the 5
Bought the 6 Delvecc, copped the Lex, we was set
We no had work all in' the projects
Niggas slingin' O's he kept the profit, no one could stop it

We was livin' it up
All the sexy young bitches ain't stressin' givin' it up
Same bitches suckin' dick tryin' to dress to thrill me
Said the niggaz I killed is out to kill me

Soon as she smoked on that note, I saw trenchcoat
One had a mac spittin', all I saw was gun smoke
The other had a shottie, I was shootin' everybody
And I wasn't missing had to get out this position

Niggas still hitting, feel a hot one in my back
Licked six shots, smoked a nigga wit' the mac
The nigga wit' the shottie still busting, cussing
Mighty goals and puntas

All I'm tryin' to do is shoot ya
Two shots in' the ruger
Booh-yeah, blew his ass out
Then I passed out
(Passed out, passed out)

On the road to the riches and diamond rings
Real niggaz do real things
Hanging wit' the niggaz is the song I sing
Real niggaz do real things

On the road to the riches and diamond rings
Real niggaz do real things
Hanging wit' the niggaz is the song I sing
Real niggaz do real things

Bad Boy in the house, for the '95 peace
Real niggas, aight


The doctor said I need about three weeks of recovery
But the nurses is lovin' me
Saying the best part of the day is my half
Feedin' me breakfast and givin' me a sponge baths

Niggas say I died dead in the streets
Nigga, I'm getting high getting head on the beach
Chillin', sittin' on about half a million
With all my niggas, all my guns, all my women

Next two years, I could see about a billion
All for the love of drug dealin'
Got no love for the other side, fuck them tricks
Any repurcussion, Junior M.A.F.I.A. spit clips
All the time, Big Poppa kick the raw rhyme
Raw flows, and that's how it goes

On the road to riches and diamond rings
Real niggaz do real things
Hanging wit' the niggaz is the song I sing
Real niggaz do real things

On the road to riches and diamond rings
Real niggaz do real things


38.Big Pappa

Lyricist：Ernie Isley, Marvin Isley, O'kelly Isley, Ronald Isley,
Rudolph Isley, Chris Jasper, Christopher Wallace

Uh, uh, check it out
(Yeah)
Junior M.A.F.I.A.
(Hehe, mmm)
Uhh
(I like this)
Yes, yes, nine-fo'
(Keep bangin')

To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
Allow me to lace these lyrical douches 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 'cuz one of these honies Biggie got's ta
creep with
Sleep with, keep the ep a secret, why not？
Why blow up my spot 'cuz 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 poppa
Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player
I love it when you call me big poppa
To the honies gettin' money playin' niggaz like dummies
I love it when you call me big poppa

If you got a gun up in your waist
Please don't shoot up the place
(Why？)
'Cuz 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 'cuz in a few, we gon' do
What we came to do, ain't that right boo？
(True)
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 poppa
Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player
I love it when you call me big poppa
To the honies gettin' money playin' niggaz like dummies
I love it when you call me big poppa

If you got a gun up in your waist
Please don't shoot up the place
(Why？)
'Cuz I see some ladies tonight
Who should be havin' my baby, bay-bee

(How ya livin' Biggie Smalls？)
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' lye an' 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, Coogi 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 poppa
Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player
I love it when you call me big poppa
To the honies gettin' money playin' niggaz like dummies
I love it when you call me big poppa

If you got a gun up in your waist
Please don't shoot up the place
(Why？)
'Cuz I see some ladies tonight
Who should be havin' my baby, bay-bee

Uh, check it out
Nine-fo' shit for dat ass
Puff Daddy, Biggie Smalls, Junior M.A.F.I.A
Represent baby bay-bay, uhh


Version%7D

Lyricist：Shawn C Carter, Osten S Harvey, Christopher Wallace

Throw your hands in the sky, nigga

I'm stickin' ice picks on the tip of ya dick
Give your testicles a swift kick, ain't that some shit？
Am I hard hardcore, harder than a Plymouth
It ain't no myth, it's a nigga with the spliff

And a chrome four fifth pressed on ya back
So what you want, nigga？ How you wanna act？
I hope civilized 'cause I love to see niggaz die
Brains all leakin' out on the street

And the pastor preachin', he was a good man
Played the bad man when the burner was in his hand
Now he's singin' sad songs with Elvis
Three to the head, 'bout six cross the pelvis

Ya fuck with the high guy, ya die
Yeah, the same motherfucker kickin', look up in the sky
I'm on some old neck shit
Suplex shit, hardcore sex shit, and Tec shit

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

A repetitive loop
All I need to destroy a soloist or group
Huh, I put it to ya boy
Hope you got the scoop

Biggie Smalls, the rap genius
I keep the glock by the penis, the cleanest cut
Fuck the sluts with the big humongous butts
Huh, I use a rubber, but

My style is gushy like the hooker's pussy
And it don't take a lot of back talk to push me
Into flamin' 'em like that little nigga Damien
Pop 19 to my motherfuckin' cranium
Game tight, gun totin' motherfucker

Niggaz in the grave thought Biggie was a sucker
I tricked 'em, I gave 'em work then I sticked 'em
I stripped 'em, 'cause niggaz don't want the friction
Told you before how I bring the drama
Slam Larry Johnson and his Grand mama

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Lucky Lefty of the Commission, bow down
By now you fuckers know this is our crown
Two Uptown bullies, Brooklyn Biggie
Bedstuy Hov like Bedstuy Gold

Behold the flyest
Bentley drivers, Louis Vuitton buyers
Jet fuel abusers, sippin' Patruise
Once Upon A Time In America's muse

You based on us, you fiction
Ya eight's don't bust, you a constant contradiction
Ladies please use contraception
Conception's at a all time high with sexin', use protection

You fuckers shoulda never been born
Shoulda never got signed, how the fuck you got on？
How the fuck you got Shawn？
I'm too advanced, the Lance Armstrong of the dance

Rubberband man before T.I. was
King of New York like B.I. was
B.K. all day, it's in my blood
You wanna see my mask and gloves？
What the fuck you want？

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Whatchu want, nigga？
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)
(Whatchu want, nigga？ Whatchu, whatchu want nigga？)

Two of the world's greatest, Brooklyn's Finest
The Commission lives on, BIG Forever
The Biggie Duets, let's go


40.1970 Somethin' (Featuring the Game and Faith Evans) [Explicit
Version]

Lyricist：Harry Wayne Casey, Stephen Ellis Garrett, Diana Eugena King,
Jack Knight, Jayceon Taylor, Christopher Wallace

1970 somethin', 1970 somethin'
1970 somethin', 1970 somethin'
1970 somethin', 1970 somethin'
1970 somthin'

1970 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, the fly girl
Tangere or Hennessey until I called Earl
Ten months in this gut, what the fuck
I wish moms would hurry up so I could get buck
While, Juvenile rippin' mics and shit
New York, New York ready for the lights of this

Uh, then came the worst date, May, 21st
2：19 is when my mama's water burst
No spouse in the house, so she rolls herself
To the hospital, to see if she could get a little help
Umbilical chord'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'

I remember back in time
Before all the homies died
Before all the dollars and nines
I knew that I was goin' somewhere
Let me take you back in time
Before I even got the rhyme
Before I had nickels and dimes
I knew that I was goin' somewhere

Would 'Pac be alive, if you let 'Pac drive？
Swear to God, to reverse, that I'll give my left eye
With the right I'll visualize the king of Bed Sty
Checkin' his daughter, Teana into junior high
If I was in Brooklyn and B.I. was still alive
In 2006, it might sound like this
NY, 7 1 8's, 2 1 2's
With Sue's rendezvous, it's like Moulin Rouge

High fashion, uptown Air Force Ones and Vasquez
Puerto Ricans with fat asses
Blazed dutch masters, we dump ashes
On models in S classes for you bastards
Catch a cab to Manhattan, with that Broadway actin'
You hype, that Belly shit'll get you capped and wrapped in
plastic
Tell the captain to ask Rog 'What's Happenin'？
Nah, I hear, nor speak no evil inside the magnum

I remember back in time
Before all the homies died
Before all the dollars and nines
I knew that I was goin' somewhere
Let me take you back in time

Now I'm thirteen, smokin' blunts makin' cream
On the drug scene, fuck the football team
Risk it, rupt' your spleens by the age of sixteen
Hearin' the coach scream, make 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
Ma' 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
Seat 74, Mart 8 set me straight
Not able to move, behind a great steel gate
Time to contemplate, damn, where did I fail？
All the money I stacked, was all the money for bail

I remember back in time
Before all the homies died
Before all the dollars and nines
I knew that I was goin' somewhere
Let me take you back in time
Before I even got the rhyme
Before I had nickels and dimes
I knew that I was goin' somewhere, yeah

1970 somethin', 1970 somethin'
1970 somethin', 1970 somethin'
1970 somethin', 1970 somethin'
1970 somthin'


41.I Got A Story To Tell

Lyricist：Anthony Best, Sean Puffy Combs, Carl Thompson, Christopher
Wallace

Who y'all talkin' to man？
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
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 fuckin' 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-O
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, Versace 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, sayin', 'I'm smokin' on home ground'
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 Prada 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 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 fuck it, 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)
(You wouldn't know that shit, really though)
(I threw all that motherfuckin' money up in the Prada knapsack)
Two words, I'm gone
(No doubt, no doubt, no doubt)
Yo nigga got some lye, y'all got some lye？


42.Niggas Bleed

Lyricist：Carlos Broady, Sean Combs, Nashiem Myrick, Christopher
Wallace

Today's agenda, got the suitcase up in the Sentra
Go to room 112, tell 'em Blanco sent you
Feel the strangest, if no money exchanges
I got these kids in Ranges, to leave them niggas brainless

All they tote is stainless, you just remain as
Calm as possible, make the deal go through
If not, here's 12 shots, we know how you do
Please make your killings 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, your life is on the shelf, we mean this Frank
Them cats we fuckin' wit put bombs in yo' moms gas tank

Let's get this money baby, they shady, we get shady
Dress up like ladies and burn 'em with dirty 380's
Then they come to kill our babies, that's all out
I got gats that blow the wall out, clear the mall out

Fuck the fallout, word to Stretch I bet they pussy
The seven digits push me, fuckin' real, here's the deal
I got a hundred bricks, fourteen-five a piece
Enough to cop a six, buy the house on the beach

Supply the peeps with Jeeps, brick apiece, capiche？
Everybody gettin' cream no one considered them leech
Think about it now, that's damn near one-point-five
I kill 'em all I'll be set for life, Frank pay attention

These motherfuckers is henchmen, renegades
If you die they still get paid, extra probably
Fuck a robbery, I'm the boss, promise you won't rob 'em, I
promise
But of course you know I had my fingers crossed

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 motherfuckin' beef cook

Niggas bleed just like us
Picture a nigga hidin', my life in that man hands
While he just decidin'
Niggas bleed just like us
I'd rather go toe to toe with all of y'all
Runnin' ain't in my protocol

Since it's on, I call my nigga Arizona Ron
From Tuscon, pushed the black Yukon
Usually had the slow grooves on, mostly rock the Isley
Stupid as a young 'un, chose not the moves wisely

Sharper with game, him and his crooks, called The Juxs
Heard it was sweet, 'bout three-fifty a piece
Ron bought a truck, two bricks laid in the cut
His peeps got bucked, got locked the fuck up

That's when Ron vanished, came back, speakin' Spanish
Lavish habits, two rings, twenty carats
Here's a criminal, nigga made America's Most
Killed his baby, mother, 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 to gain, 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 science

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 motherfuckin' beef cook

Niggas bleed just like us
Picture a nigga hidin' my life in that man hands
While he just decidin'
Niggas bleed just like us
I'd rather go toe to toe with all of y'all
Runnin' ain't in my protocol

We agreed to go on shootin' is silly
Because niggas could be hidin' in showers with Mac-Milli's
So I freaked 'em, the telly manager was Puerto Rican
Gloria, from Astoria, I went to war with her

Peeps in ninety-one, stole a gun from my workers
And they took drugs, they tried to jerk us
We blazed they place, long story, Glo' sent my face
Got shook, thought a nigga was comin' for the safe

Now she breakin', shut up, 112, what's shakin'？
A Jamaican, some bitches I swear, they look gay
In a black Range Rover, been outside all day
If it's trouble let me know, I'll be on my way

Please, I got kids to feed, I done seen you make niggas bleed
Nightmare, this bitch don't need it
Ron, get the gasoline, this spot, we 'bout to blow this
Get the cash before the cops and Range Rover cats notice

Room 112, right by the staircase, perfect place
When they evacuate, they meet they fate
Ron pass the gasoline, the nigga passed me kerosene
Fuck it, it's flammable, my hunger is unexplainable

Strike the match, just what I expected
The dread kid ejected in seconds
And here come two, opposite sexes, one black, one Malaysian
We in the hallway waitin' patient

As soon as she hit the door we start blastin'
I saw her brains hit the floor, Ron laughin', I swear to God
I hit Maxi Priest at least twelve times in the chest
Spit around, shot the chink in the breast

She cryin', head shots put her to rest
Pop open the briefcases, nothin but Franklin faces
The spot's hot, sprinklers, alarm systems
That's when other guests start to slip in

It's time for us to get to dippin'
I know them niggas in the Range is on they way up
Flippin', pistol grippin', I load the clip in
The hallway, got real loud and crowded

They walked right past us, I don't know how they allowed it
The funny thing about it, through all the excitement
They Range got towed, they double parked by a hydrant
Stupid motherfuckers


43.Somebody's Gotta Die

Lyricist：Carlos Broady, Sean Combs, Tony Hester, Nashiem Myrick,
Christopher Wallace

I'm sittin' in the crib dreamin' about Leer jets and coupes
The way Salt shoops and how they sell records like Snoop
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'
It's 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 upon 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
'Cause 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 they Pop
Head spinnin', reminiscin' 'bout my man, C-Rock

Somebody's got to die, if I got, you got to go
Somebody's got to die, let the gunshots blow
Somebody's got to die, nobody got to know
That I killed your ass in the mist, kid

Somebody's got to die, if I got, you got to go
Somebody's got to die, let the gunshots blow
Somebody's got to die, nobody got to know
That I killed your ass in the mist, kid

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
The 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 Calicoes

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'

Somebody's got to die, if I got, you got to go
Somebody's got to die, let the gunshots blow
Somebody's got to die, nobody got to know
That I killed your ass in the mist, kid

Somebody's got to die, if I got, you got to go
Somebody's got to die, let the gunshots blow
Somebody's got to die, nobody got to know
That I killed your ass in the mist, kid

Exchanged hugs and pounds before the throw down
How it's 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 and shit

See, niggas like you do ten year bids
Miss the niggas they want and murder innocent kids
Not I, one nigga's 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

Take that
Take that
Take that


44.Last Day

Lyricist：Shawn Jacobs, Kejuan Muchita, Jason Phillips, D Stiles,
Christopher Wallace

Can I live til' my last day？
Hittin' honies that be nasty
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 mill 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 gridams

Scridam the flow is forbidden
Either you ridin' or you dyin' 'cuz 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 you're 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

Can I live til' my last day？
Hittin' honies that be nasty
Gettin' money in the fast way
And I only care halfway
But I still can't let you pass me

Can I live til' my last day？
Hittin' honies that be nasty
Gettin' money in the fast way
And I only care halfway
But I still can't let you pass me

Before you think of keepin me down, heatin' me down
The flow like water get deep 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
You're stashed in the ceilin' 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 ulcer, 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'

Can I live til' my last day？
Hittin' honies that be nasty
Gettin' money in the fast way
And I only care halfway
But I still can't let you pass me

Can I live til' my last day？
Hittin' honies that be nasty
Gettin' money in the fast way
And I only care halfway
But I still can't let you pass me

Can I live til' my last day？
Hittin' honies that be nasty
Gettin' money in the fast way
And I only care halfway
But I still can't


45.Fuck You Tonight

Lyricist：Sean Combs, Daron Jones, Robert Kelly, Christopher Wallace

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
Spectacular, 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 it's alright with you, we fuckin'
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

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm fuckin' you tonight

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？

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 style's 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 it's eight tracks and six-packs while I hit that

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm fuckin' you tonight

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm fuckin' you tonight

Let's stop the bullshit, baby
Let me take you to the spot, get you hot
So you wanna be with me, Puff Daddy
B.I.G., bring that ass to me

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm fuckin' you tonight

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm fuckin' you tonight

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm fuckin' you tonight

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm fuckin' you tonight

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm fuckin' you tonight


46.Dead Wrong

Lyricist：Al Green, Osten Harvey, Marshall Mathers, Christopher Wallace

Bad Boy baby
Yeah, yeah
Junior M.A.F.I.A., yeah
Yeah, B.I.G. 2000
B.I.G. 2000 born again, c'mon

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

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 niggaz need to wake up
Smell the Indonesia, beat you to a seizure
Then fuck your moms, hit the skins till 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, â½B.I.Gâ
Then I bust in her E Y E

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

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

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 kibitz, 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 till 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？

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

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

There's several different levels to Devil worshippin' horse's
heads
Human sacrifices, cannibalism, 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 fagot 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

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

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

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

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


47.Big Booty Hoes

Lyricist：Luke Campbell, David Mathews, A Toussaint, Daven Vanderpool,
Christopher Wallace

Beotch
Talk about these hoes Big

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 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
Luke and Biggie straight shittin' on hoes, bitch
Lick your toes, bitch？ Fuck no, you must be crazy
Squirt in your face and then I'm Swayze

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
My way deep throat on Luke's boat
When the moon rises, I'm cumin' in her eyeses

Just the way players play
Leave it up to me, I get fucked all day
Sucked all day, smokin' blunts, countin' cheese
Fucking bitches til they assholes bleed, what you say, baby？

All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Check it out, here's another one
All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Don't take 'em to the crib unless they bonin'
All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Check it out, here's another one
All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Don't take 'em to the crib unless they bonin'

Biggie bag bitches from barbecues to bar mitzvah's
The dick don't fit, use your lips 'cause
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 come on your tongue and gums, all night
The bitch drink nuts by the pint

Drink it bitch
All of these hoes do that shit

All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Check it out, here's another one
All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Don't take 'em to the crib unless they bonin'
All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Check it out, here's another one
All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Don't take 'em to the crib unless they bonin'

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
But it's gettin' kinda late, and I can't wait
Bitch fuck a first date
I pulled out my dick, she called me rude
But then she ate it like food

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 Short 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

All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Check it out, here's another one
All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Don't take 'em to the crib unless they bonin'
All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Check it out, here's another one
All I want is hoes, big booty hoes
Don't take 'em to the crib unless they bonin'

You knew I was a dog when you met me bitch, fo' sho'
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？


48.Biggie

Lyricist：Ronald Baker, Alan Felder, J Fisher, Norman Harris, Kim
Jones, James Lloyd, N Myrick, A Spain, Christopher Wallace

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, cock suckers, what's his name？
That's how we do it y'all, yeah, to all my niggaz in the house
Bad Boy, who we die for all day, everyday nigga, yeah, yeah
Yeah

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 y'all niggaz cracked out
Coward niggaz, most are buried down south

Far from gangstas, really hush puppies
Niggaz barely 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

To all my thugs who puffed him
To all my girls who hugged him
You love him, yell his name Biggie
I'd rather die on my feet, than live on my knees
Nigga please, I cock and squeeze for Biggie

Mafia
Representin' Buck town
Mack 11's cocked back, niggaz better duck down
Face down, you know the routine, the cream
Earing's, you know the drama Biggie bring

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 Antarctic
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
Fall, 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

To all my thugs who puffed him
To all my girls who hugged him
You love him, yell his name Biggie
I'd rather die on my feet, than live on my knees
Nigga please, I cock and squeeze for Biggie

Mafia
Representin' Buck town
Mack 11's cocked back, niggaz better duck down
Face down, you know the routine, the cream
Earing's, you know the drama Biggie bring

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 Biggie
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 bandannas and rep Biggie

We kept it through, from the heart ripped the barrel
B.K. style, see Big howl, now
Lets see who, wanna go against Mafia world
Niggaz nuthin' but squirrels, they know we rep Biggie
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 Biggie

To all my thugs who puffed him
To all my girls who hugged him
You love him, yell his name Biggie
I'd rather die on my feet, than live on my knees
Nigga please, I cock and squeeze for Biggie

Mafia
Representin' Buck town
Mack 11's cocked back, niggaz better duck down
Face down, you know the routine, the cream
Earing's, you know the drama Biggie bring

Now when I cock back and squeeze, my Desert E'z
Make you drop to your knees, barely able to breathe
My bullets move in threes, one for Brook-lyn
One for Mafia so take that and this one's for Biggie
You know Frank kept me iced out
Mink dragon, seven figures in my bank account
All that material shit, y'all still tryin' to get it

You fuckin' pricks, get off his dick tryin' to be like Biggie
All y'all 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
Y'all niggaz can't see Poppa, nor the Big Moma
Who you love Biggie for the Y2G, the two ten
We got it sewn, we don't need y'all help, we hold our own
'Cause this goes out to cats not tryin' to give it up
B I G missin' us, shout him out Biggie

To all my thugs who puffed him
To all my girls who hugged him
You love him, yell his name Biggie
I'd rather die on my feet, than live on my knees
Nigga please, I cock and squeeze for Biggie

Mafia
Representin' Buck town
Mack 11's cocked back, niggaz better duck down
Face down, you know the routine, the cream
Earing's, you know the drama Biggie bring
Biggie

To all my thugs who puffed him
To all my girls who hugged him
You love him, yell his name Biggie
I'd rather die on my feet


49.Dangerous MC's

Lyricist：Calvin Broadus, Mark Curry, Dominick Lamb, Trevor Smith,
Christopher Wallace

Yeah, ninety-six, for my Nordstrom Ave niggaz
My Fulton Street niggaz, dangerous MC's

Diamonds on my neck, chrome drop-top
Chillin' on the scene, smoking l's of green
Ooh-wee, you see, the ugliest
Money-hungriest, Brooklyn Loch Ness
Nine millimeter cock test, wan fi' test？
And the winner is

Y'all niggaz know the rules
I blast on niggaz so 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 everybody 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 Small's 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
Missed you by pinches, your talk is senseless
Actor needs chiropractor for cracked jaw
Yes, I rocked your cheddar box
Dangerous you're not I gets down
Twist your body round and round, upside down

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

Make money, hand over fist
The bo-vines roam where chicken hearts 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 fury 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

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

Oh no, 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

I bet you didn't know that yo' bitch was suckin' dick
Who you think she fuckin' with？ Look here
My East side lifestyle is way foul, move the crowd
Point a pistol at you bitch niggas, bla dow

How you like me now？
You got stuck and fucked, Doggy style
100 spokes Day-tonas, bendin' the corner
All up in Crooklyn, bad bitches are lookin'

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

So you lovin' us so much, this shit is bleedin' through you
If I worked in a restaurant
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 patois
And kick you in your face like we playin' a game of soccer

I love to cock the glock-a, stack up on loot and vodka
And fuck your crew because all of y'all niggaz full of caca
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

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

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


50.Come On

Lyricist：C. Aznavour, D Black, R Gall, G Goffin, R Hall, M Masser,
Christopher Wallace

Motherfuckin' was at, 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 flip out
holmes
It was just comin' out like a motherfucker
The nigga amped be like come on, come on motherfuckers

Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on

Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on

Let's go deep into the phrase, beautiful sun rays
Off the bald head, everything is real
Biggie me put on this joint so I'm a 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

Well, why not blow up the spot with Sadat
Release the brain storm, to make your motherfuckin' brain warm
A strange form, somethin' kind of lyrical biggie the bastard
Sadat's kind of spiritual eell, in God we trust', guns I bust
Got that disgustin', sewer style dumpin' and that
Do you know, where you're goin' to, do you like the things that
I bring？
Make an emcee wanna sing for a livin'
Take the beat down we fuckin' givin', c'mon motherfucker

Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on

Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on

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 gonna 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'm a 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'm a tell him it can happen, don't play me with that rap shit
Life is real, so Biggie take the steel

Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on

Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on

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

That's how I got the weed spot, I shot dread in the head
Took the bread and the land spread
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 yayo
That's crazy blunts, mad L's
My voice excels from the avenue to jail cells
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

Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on

Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on
Come on motherfuckers, come on

I love to see shit like that


51.Can I Get Witcha

Lyricist：Leroy Bell, Casey James, James Lloyd, Carl Thompson,
Christopher Wallace

Doggytyle, yeah
B.I.G.
To all the ladies in the house
C'mon Big

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
I'm interrupted by a phone ring
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't cha hit me on the box a little later
Washed up, got dressed, hits the elevator
Steps out it's the same old scene
Dope fiend, crack fiend, 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
That's the one I gotta get with

Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Why you wanna get with me？
'Cause you got a big B U T T, see

Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Why you wanna get with me？
'Cause you got a big B U T T, see

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 ain't 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？

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 Reebok's shoes？

Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Can I get witcha
'Cause you got a big B U T T, see, see

Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Can I get witcha
Why you wanna get with me？
'Cause you got a big B U T T, see

I said, 'Walk me upstairs, 'cause I forgot my Phillies'
She said, 'I don't care, just don't 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 witchou
Lose control on the skins is all I can picture
Now I'm about to hitcha

Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Why you wanna get with me？
'Cause you got a big B U T T, see

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 chicken head with sex appeal pass me
That's her hands, ankles, feet they ashy
I like the flashy type, who pass with dyke's
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

Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Why you wanna get with me？
'Cause you got a big B U T T, see

Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Why you wanna get with me？
'Cause you got a big B U T T, see

Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Can I get witcha, can I get witcha
Why you wanna get with me？
'Cause you got a big B U T T, see

Can I get witcha, can I get witcha


52.Would You Die For Me

Lyricist：Sean Combs, K Jones, S Jordan, D Vanderpool, Christopher
Wallace

Venue after venue I've been through
Come up 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 blond out, Madonna style like a virgin
Splurging, Dom P., Rose 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
Good fellas squeeze every shell they got left

Grand Marnie 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 Corgi 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'

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

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

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, y'all 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 Buck town, lay your ass down
You don't wanna play around with me

Probably just mad because Frank chose me
A fly cutie, you just a groupie
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

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

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

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

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

Would you ride with me？
Yeah
Would you lie for me？
That's right
Would you get high with me？
For sure


53.If I Should Die Before I Wake

Lyricist：Deric Angelettie, Henri Charlemagne, Dwight Grant, O'shea
Jackson, Eric Matlock, Robert Ross, Christopher Wallace

Yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm on fuck 'em, yeah, yeah
With my hands gripped, praise the Lord shit
Fuck her, never knew her, screw her
Dump her body, dump her body
Sewer our Father

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'
The lesson from the Smith and Wesson 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

With my hands gripped
Praise the Lord shit, our Father
If I should die before I wake

With my hands gripped
Praise the Lord shit, our Father
If I should die before I wake

Fuck 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

With my hands gripped
Praise the Lord shit, our Father
If I should die before I wake

With my hands gripped
Praise the Lord shit, our Father
If I should die before I wake

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

With my hands gripped
Praise the Lord shit, our Father
If I should die before I wake

With my hands gripped
Praise the Lord shit, our Father
If I should die before I wake

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 separate 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

With my hands gripped
Praise the Lord shit, our Father
If I should die before I wake

With my hands gripped
Praise the Lord shit, our Father
If I should die before I wake

With my hands gripped
Praise the Lord shit, our Father
If I should die before I wake


54.Niggas

Lyricist：Sean Combs, T Dofat, Rob Herbert, Craig Mack, Christopher
Wallace, Mario Winans

To all my Brooklyn
(Niggas)
To all my Uptown
(Niggas)
To all my Bronx
(Niggas)
To all my Queens bridge
(Niggas)
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)

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
(Niggas, niggas, niggas)
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

To all my Brooklyn
(Niggas)
To all my Uptown
(Niggas)
To all my Bronx
(Niggas)
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)
To all my Queens bridge
(Niggas)

When we smoke spliffs, we pack four-fifths
Just in case dread wanna riff
He get a free lift to the cemetery, rough very
Not your ordinary, we watch you get buried
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)
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
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)
Up North bound 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
Yo G, pass the Budda
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)

To all my Brooklyn
(Niggas)
To all my Uptown
(Niggas)
To all my Bronx
(Niggas)
To all my Queens bridge
(Niggas)
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)

To all my Brooklyn
(Niggas)
To all my Uptown
(Niggas)
To all my Bronx
(Niggas)
To all my Queens bridge
(Niggas)
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)

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 cash flow
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)
The neighborhood grave digga 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 a muck
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)
Yes, flex at the two or three Benz's
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
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)
And your nose even, when I choke ya you stop breathin'
And when Jake come, I'm leavin'

To all my Brooklyn
(Niggas)
To all my Uptown
(Niggas)
To all my Bronx
(Niggas)
To all my Queens bridge
(Niggas))
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)

To all my Brooklyn
(Niggas)
To all my Uptown
(Niggas)
To all my Bronx
(Niggas)
To all my Queens bridge
(Niggas)
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)

To all my Brooklyn
(Niggas)
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)
To all my Uptown
(Niggas)
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)
To all my Bronx
(Niggas)
(Nigga, nigga, nigga)
To all my Queens bridge
(Niggas)

To all my Brooklyn
(Niggas)
To all my Uptown
(Niggas)
To all my Bronx
(Niggas)


55.Let Me Get Down

Lyricist：Deric Micheal Angelettie, Trevell Coleman, Melissa A Elliott,
Craig J Mack, Christopher Wallace, Barry Eugene White

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 butt cheeks 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

Why you wanna play your games on me, bitch, you crazy？
Commitments, I'm Swayze, no time for the ill shit
Rest with the niggaz on that real blood spill shit
My rappin' tactics are drastic

Stretchin' motherfuckers like Mr. Fantastic
So if you wanna see my pedigree 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

Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get
down
Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get
down
Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get
down

Yeah, yo, odds even, said shoot
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' with 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

Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get
down
Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get
down
Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get
down
Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get
down

I be like what？ Let me clear my throat
Break the smoke, Missy gotta hit some high notes
Hey, yo from coast to coast I burn like toast
So dope that I floats through snow nigga

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

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 whack

Microphone check one two, I do ya tool
Like them freaks run through your crew
Give it to me, oh, send it to me, oh
But before I get down, where's my money？
Let me get down

Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get
down
Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get
down
Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get
down
Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get
down

Bringin' it live to you bitch ass niggaz


56.Rap Phenomenon

Lyricist：Roland Chambers, Kenny Gamble, Ike Lee, Tracy Lee,
Christopher Martin, Reggie Noble, Clifford Smith, Christopher
Wallace

Well it's the Funk Docta Spock
Meth-Tical
Biggie, Biggie
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, an 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 clutchin', your chest-plate contemplate
You 'bout to die, nigga wait, keep yo' hands high

Yo, yo yo
I don't brownnose out of town hoes
I'm up around fo' with the crowbar to the five point O
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 baby
If I pull out the A.K., keep your hands high

This rule is so underrated
Actin' as if it can't happen, you're frontin'
Ain't no other kings in this rap thing
Biggie, a motherfuckin' rap phenomenon

This rule is so underrated
Actin' as if it can't happen, you're frontin'
Ain't no other kings in this rap thing
Biggie, a motherfuckin' rap phenomenon

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, far from soft or fragilla
Play hard like Reggie Miller, rapper, slash dope dealer
Slash Gorilla, slash illest turned killer

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 Jee-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？


57.I Really Want To Show You

Lyricist：Reginal Ellis, Ed Fox, Norman Glover, Alan Roy Scott,
Christopher Wallace

Woo! There's gonna be a lot of punchin' in this motherfucker
Y'all better be swift with that punch button Jack
Biggie, Biggie

I know how it feel to wake up fucked up
Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell
People look at you like you's 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, shit

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

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

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

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

I'm seeing body after body and our mayor Guiliani
Ain't tryin' to see no black man turn to John Gotti
Guns and diamonds
Bitches put they tongues where the sun ain't shinin'
Take ki's till they spot us, snakes flee with consignment
This kid he got his krib rated, police found grams
They locked up his whole fam, mom's 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 till 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

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

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

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


Lyricist：Jeffrey Atkins, Sean Combs, Reginald Ellis, Norman Glover,
Jack Knight, Chucky Thompson, christopher Wallace

Uh yeah, Bad Boy Baby, Ralph Tresvant
Biggie Smalls, listen
Uh, yeah baby oh, listen to me, oh yeah

When it comes to sex, I'm similar to the thriller in Manila
Honey's call me Bigga the condom filler
Whether it's stiff tongue or stiff ＊＊＊
Biggie squeeze it to make shit fit, now check this ＊＊＊

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 ＊＊＊, 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 ＊＊＊ size in these Karl Kani jeans
I'm in thirteens, know what I mean

I ＊＊＊ around and hit you with the Hennessey ＊＊＊
Mess around and go blind, don't get to see ＊＊＊
The next batter, here to shatter your bladder
It doesn't matter skinny or fat or

Boy skinned or black, baby I drop these
Boricua mommies screamin' 'Aiy papi'
I love it when they call me Big Poppa
I only smoke ＊＊＊ if they rolled propa

Look, I gotcha caught up in the drunk flow
＊＊＊ Tae Kwon do, I tote da fo'-fo'
For ＊＊＊ gettin' mad 'cause they bitch chose me
A big black ＊＊＊ 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 Newton
Tricks suck my ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊ all day with no trivia

So gimme a ＊＊＊, a bankroll and a bag of ＊＊＊
I'm guaranteed to ＊＊＊ 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

What you wanna do？ I got that old thing back
What you wanna see？ Baby sing relax and feel him
What you give, where you are
You won't give it, you wouldn't start, oh

Just screamin' want that old thing back
Like I double G I E whit some R U L E
Notorious know to bust in the E Y E, baby baby
＊＊＊ know they love and hate me

I come, you come, we come with back some maybe
How close we came to come the getto is crazy
How come you ain't, your sis make semi your faces
When I come you be cryin' like I'm killin' ya ＊＊＊

Knows when picture in the camera rolled
'Cause I only be knowin' how the ＊＊＊ unfolded
Back shots in the rear, got the mack unloaded
And got a reload, like every show off

You sayin' I got ma swag a back
I'm lookin' like ＊＊＊, ma swag near look left
It's so hard pressed, to be impressed by these new rappers
They actors, and the fact is you want that old thing back, ＊＊＊

What you wanna do？ I got that old thing back
What you wanna see？ Baby sing relax and feel him
What you give, where you are
Where you are, you wouldn't start, oh

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 ＊＊＊

＊＊＊ 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 Benjamin's
Another hon's in the crib, please send her in

I fuck nonstop, lick my lips a lot, used to lick the ＊＊＊ a lot
But lickin' ＊＊＊ 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 ＊＊＊
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 ＊＊＊
I don't chase 'em, I replace 'em
And if I'm caressin' 'em, I'm undressin' 'em

＊＊＊ whatcha heard who's the best in New York
For fillin' fantasies without that ＊＊＊ Mr. Walk
Or Tattoo I got you wrapped around my ＊＊＊
And when I'm done I got to split, ＊＊＊

Back shots is my position
I gotcha wishin' for an intermission
＊＊＊ 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

What you wanna do？ I got that old thing back
What you wanna see？ Baby sing, relax and feel him
What you give, where you are
You wouldn't start, ha


Lyricist：Ernie Isley, Marvin Isley, O'kelly Isley, Ronald Isley,
Rudolph Isley, Chris Jasper, Christopher Wallace

Uh uh, check it out, uh, Junior Mafia uh
I like this, yeah, uh, yeah, 94

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' ＊＊＊, my crew's behind me
Mad question askin', ＊＊＊ passin', music blastin', but I just
can't quit
Because one of these honies biggie gotta creep with

Sleep with, keep the ep a secret why not
Why blow up my spot 'cause we both got caught
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 da life players
Jump in the Rover and come over
Tell your friends jump in the GS-3, I got the ＊＊＊ by the tree

I love it when you call me big poppa
Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player
I love it when you call me big poppa
To the honies gettin' money playin' fellas like dummies
I love it when you call me big poppa
If you got a ＊＊＊ up in your waist please don't shoot up the
place, why？
'Cause I see some ladies tonight that should be havin' my baby,
baby, uh

Straight up honey really I'm askin'
Most of these fellas 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
Forget the telly we just go to the crib
And watch a movie in the Jacuzzi Smoke, ＊＊＊ while you do me

I love it when you call me big poppa
Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player
I love it when you call me big poppa
To the honies gettin' money playin' fellas like dummies
I love it when you call me big poppa
If you got a ＊＊＊ up in your waist please don't shoot up the
place, why？
'Cause I see some ladies tonight that should be havin' my baby,
baby, uh

How ya livin' Biggie Smallz？
In mansion and Benz's, givin' ends to my friends and it feels
stupendous
Tremendous cream, get a dollar and a dream
Still tote gats strapped with infrared beams

Choppin' O's, smokin' lye an' optimo's
Money ＊＊＊ and clothes all a brother 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 could be friends, ＊＊＊ we can do this every weekend
Aight？ Is that aight with you？ Yeah, keep bangin'

I love it when you call me big poppa
Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player
I love it when you call me big poppa
To the honies gettin' money playin' fellas like dummies
I love it when you call me big poppa
If you got a ＊＊＊ up in your waist please don't shoot up the
place, why？
'Cause I see some ladies tonight that should be havin' my baby,
baby, uh

Uh, check it out, uh, Puff Daddy, Biggie Smalls
Junior Mafia, represent baby baby, uh


Lyricist：Al Green, Osten Harvey, Marshall Mathers, Christopher Wallace

Bad Boy baby, yeah, yeah
Junior M.A.F.I.A., yeah
Yeah, B.I.G. 2000
B.I.G. 2000 born again, c'mon

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

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, mother＊＊＊ say your prayers

Hail Mary full of grace, smack the ＊＊＊ 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 n＊＊＊＊＊ need to wake up
Smell the Indonesia, beat you to a seizure
Then ＊＊＊ your moms, hit the skins till amnesia

She don't remember ＊＊＊, just the two hits
Her hittin' the floor and me hittin' the ＊＊＊
Suckin' on the ＊＊＊, had the hooker beggin' for the ＊＊＊
And your moms ain't ugly love, my ＊＊＊ 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,
â½B.I.G.â
Then I ＊＊＊ in her E Y E

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

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

When I get ＊＊＊, 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 kibitz, I'll flip it

Tears don't affect me, I hit 'em with the ＊＊＊ G
Disrespect me, my potency is deadly
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, 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 ＊＊＊
I stabbed her brother with the icepick
Because he wanted me to ＊＊＊ him from the back
But Smalls don't get down like that

Got your father hidin' in a room, ＊＊＊ 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 ＊＊＊ feelin' it

Hardcore, I got it sucked like a ＊＊＊
Stab ya till 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？

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

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

There's several different levels to Devil worshippin' horse's
heads
Human sacrifices, cannibalism, 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 ＊＊＊, meat looks fresh
I got a lion in my pocket, I'm lyin', I got a ＊＊＊ 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 ＊＊＊ 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 ＊＊＊
Met on the second, wet on the third, then she's dead on the
fourth
I'm dead wrong

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

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

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

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


Lyricist：Randy C Alpert, Deric Michael Angelettie, Andy W Armer, Sean
J Combs, Ronald A. Lawrence, Christopher Wallace

Uh, uh, uh, c'mon

Hah, sicka than your average Poppa
Twist cabbage off instinct n＊＊＊＊＊ don't think shit stink
Pink gators, my Detroit players
Timbs for my hooligans in Brooklyn

Dead right, if the head right, Biggie there every 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 ＊＊＊ 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 ＊＊＊ flaunt it
That Brooklyn bull＊＊＊, 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'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 put ＊＊＊ in NY onto DKNY
Miami, D.C. prefer Versace
All Philly ＊＊＊, dough and Moschino
Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi

Now who's the real dookie, meanin' who's really the ＊＊＊？
Them ＊＊＊ ride ＊＊＊, Frank White push the sticks
On the Lexus, LX, four and a half
Bulletproof glass tints if I want some ＊＊＊

Gon' blast squeeze first ask questions last
That's how most of these so-called gangsters pass
At last, a ＊＊＊ 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 plaintiff
Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement
Face it, not guilty, that's how I stay filthy
Richer than Richie, till you ＊＊＊ come and get me

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 ＊＊＊
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 ＊＊＊ wit
Flows girls say he's sweet like licorice
So get with this ＊＊＊, 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 ＊＊＊ leakin', like rapper Demo

Tell them ＊＊＊, take they clothes off slowly
Hit 'em wit the force like Obie, 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


Lyricist：Sean Puffy Combs, Herbert Magidson, Nashiem Myrick,
Christopher Wallace, Allie Wrubel

As we proceed to give you what you need
9 to 5 mother＊＊＊, get live mother＊＊＊
As we proceed to give you what you need
9 to 5 mother＊＊＊, get live mother＊＊＊

Turn the mics up, turn that mic up
Yeah, that beat is knockin' to that microphone
Turn that ＊＊＊ the ＊＊＊ up, uh, what？
Turn it up louder, yeah, uh

As we proceed, to give you what you need
J.M. mother＊＊＊, J.M. mother＊＊＊
9 to 5 mother＊＊＊

Who shot ya, separate the weak from the obsolete
Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets
It's on ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ all that bickerin' beef
I can hear sweat tricklin' down your cheek

Your heartbeat soun' like Sasquatch feet
Thunderin', shakin' the concrete
Finish it, stop, when I foil the plot
Neighbors call the cops, said they heard mad shots

Saw me in the drop, 3 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 ＊＊＊ with ya-yo
Peel more skins than Idaho potato
N＊＊＊＊＊ know, the lyrical molestin' is takin' place
＊＊＊ with B.I.G. it ain't safe

I make your skin chafe, rashes on the masses
Bumps and bruises, b＊＊＊＊＊ and Land cruisers
Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools
N＊＊＊＊＊ mad because I know that Cash rules

Everythin' around me, two ＊＊＊ nines
Any mother＊＊＊ whisperin' about mines
And I'm Crooklyn's finest
You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind this

As we proceed to give you what you need
9 to 5 mother＊＊＊, get live mother＊＊＊
As we proceed to give you what you need
East coast mother＊＊＊, Bad Boy mother＊＊＊

Get high mother＊＊＊, get high mother＊＊＊
Smoke ＊＊＊ mother＊＊＊, get high mother＊＊＊
Ready to die mother＊＊＊, 9 to 5 mother＊＊＊

I seen the light excite all the freaks
Stack mad chips, spread love with my peeps
N＊＊＊＊ wanna creep, got to watch my back
Think the Cognac and Indo sack make me slack？

I switches all that, ＊＊＊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 ＊＊＊ with raw C-Poppa'
Feel a thousand deaths when I drop ya

I feel for you, like Chaka Khan, I'm the don
P＊＊＊＊ 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 ＊＊＊, brave ＊＊＊

Turned front page ＊＊＊, Puff Daddy flips daily
I smoke the b＊＊＊＊＊, he slips on the Bailey's
On the rocks, tote ＊＊＊ at christenings
And my ＊＊＊, in the fire position and what？

Come here, come here, open your fucking mouth, open your
Didn't I tell you don't fuck with me, huh？
Didn't I tell you not to fuck with me, huh？
Look at you now, huh？
Can't talk with a gun in your mouth, huh？
Bitch-ass ＊＊＊a, what？

(Who shot ya？)
As we proceed to give you what you need
9 to 5 mother＊＊＊, get live mother＊＊＊
(Who shot ya？)
Get high mother＊＊＊, ready to die mother＊＊＊, hah
(Who shot ya？)

As we proceed to give you what you need
(Who shot ya？)
9 to 5 mother＊＊＊, east coast mother＊＊＊
(Who shot ya？)

West coast mother＊＊＊, west coast mother＊＊＊
As we proceed to give you what you need
As we proceed to give you what you need

Get live mother＊＊＊, get live mother＊＊＊
9 to 5 mother＊＊＊, get money mother＊＊＊

As we proceed to give you what you need
Get live mother＊＊＊, 9 to 5 mother＊＊＊
J.M. mother＊＊＊, J.M. mother＊＊＊
As we proceed to give you what you need


63.Get Money

Lyricist：Roy Ayers, James Bedford, Kimberly Jones, Sylvia Striplin,
Christopher Wallace

Fuck bitches, get money, fuck niggaz, get money
Fuck bitches, get money, fuck niggaz, get money
Fuck bitches, get money, fuck niggaz, get money

You wanna sip mo' on my living room flo'
Play Nintendo with Cease-a-Leo
Pick up my phone say, 'Poppa not home'
Sex all night, mad head in the morn'

Spin my V, smoke all my weed
Tattoo on tittie sayin' B I G, now check it
You wanna be my main squeeze baby
Don'tcha, you wanna gimme what I need baby

Won'tcha, picture life as my wife just think
Full length mink, fat X and O links
Bracelets to match, conversation was all that
Showed you the safe combinations and all that

Guess you could say you's the one I trusted
Who would ever think that you would spread like mustard？
Shit got hot, you sent Feds to my spot
Took me to court, tried to take all I got

'Nother intricate plot, the bitch said I raped her
Damn, why she wanna stick me for my paper？
My Moscino hoe, my Versace hottie
Come to find out, you was fuckin' everybody

You knew about me, the fake ID, cases in Virginia, body in D.C.
Woe, oh is me, that's what I get for trickin'
Pay my own bail, commence to ass kickin'
Lick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was, 'Poppa don't hit me no more'

Disrespect my click, my shit's imperial
Fuck around and made her milk box material
You feel me suckin' dick, runnin' your lips
'Cause of you, I'm on some real fuck a bitch shit, uh

Fuck bitches, get money, fuck niggaz, get money
Fuck bitches, get money, fuck niggaz, get money
Fuck bitches, get money, fuck niggaz, get money
Fuck bitches, get money, fuck niggaz, get money

Niggaz, betta grab a seat
Grab on your dick as this bitch gets deep
Deeper than the pussy of a bitch six feet
Stiff dicks feel sweet in this little petite

Young bitch from the street, guaranteed to stay down
Used to bring work outta town on Greyhound
Now I'm Billboard now, niggaz press to hit it
Play me like a chicken, thinkin' I'm pressed to get it

Rather do the killin' than the stick up jerks
Or rather count a million while you eat my pussy
Push me to the limit get my feelings in it
Get me open while I'm commin' down your throat

Then, you wanna be my main squeeze nigga
Don'tcha, you wanna lick between my knees nigga
Don'tcha wanna see me whippin' your 3 down the Ave
Blow up spots on bitches because I'm mad

Break up affairs lick shots in the air
You get vexed and start swingin' everywhere
Me shifty, now you wanna pistol whip me
Pull out your nine, while I cock on mine

Yeah, what nigga, I ain't got time for this
So what nigga I'm not tryin to hear that shit
Now you wanna buy me diamonds and Armani suits
Adrienne Vitadini and Chanel 9 boots
Things that make up, for all the games and the lies
Hallmark cards, sayin', 'I apologize'

Is you wit me, how could you ever deceive me
But pay back's a bitch motherfucker, believe me
Naw, I ain't gay this ain't no lesbo flow
Just a lil' somethin', to let you motherfuckers know

Fuck bitches, get money, fuck niggaz, get money
Fuck bitches, get money, fuck niggaz, get money
Fuck bitches, get money, fuck niggaz, get money
...


Lyricist：Burt Bacharach, Hal David, Ostin Harvey, Christopher Wallace

Who the hell is this？ Pagin' me at 5：46
In the mornin', crack of dawn an'
Now I'm yawnin', wipe the cold out my eye
See who's this pagin' me and why

It's my man Pop from the barbershop
Told me he was in the gamblin' spot and heard the intricate plot
Some people wanna stick me like flypaper neighbor
Slow down love, please chill, drop the caper

Remember all you people from the hill up in Brownsville？
That you rolled dice wit, smoked the blunts and got nice wit
Yeah, little Fame up in Prospect
Nah they're my people, nah love wouldn't disrespect

I didn't say them, they schooled me to some types
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 'cause I'm warnin' you
I got the mac Biggie tell me what you gonna do？

Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper
Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper
Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper
Damn, why they wanna stick me for my paper

They heard about the Rolex's and the Lexus
With the Texas license plates outta state
They heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown
And they heard you got half of Virginia locked down

They even heard about the crib you bought your moms out in
Florida
The fifth corridor call the Coroner
There's gonna be a lot of slow singin' and flower bringin'
If my burglar alarm starts ringin'

Whatcha think all the g＊＊＊ is for？
All purpose war, got the Rottweilers by the door
And I feed 'em ＊＊＊powder, so they can devour
The criminals, tryin' to drop my decimals

Damn, people wanna stick me for my cream
And it ain't a dream, things ain't always what it seem
It's the ones that smoke ＊＊＊ witcha, see your picture
Now they wanna grab the guns and come and getcha

Betcha Biggie won't slip
I got the Calico with the black talons loaded in the clip
So I can rip through the ligaments
Put the bodies in a bad predicament, where all the foul people
went

Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta
Buck what I'ma hit you with you motherfuckers betta duck
I bring pain, bloodstains on what remains
Of his jacket he had a ＊＊ he shoulda packed it

Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket
So I can reload and explode on ya ＊＊＊hole
I mess around and get hardcore
C-4 to ya door no beef no more ＊＊＊

Feel the rough, scandalous
The more w＊＊＊ smoke I puff, the more dangerous
I don't give a damn about you or your weak crew
What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you？
I'm not runnin', chump, I bust my gun an'
Hold on, I hear somebody comin'

Come on n＊＊＊＊, I'm only comin' to pass the gat
Just bring your mother＊＊＊ ＊＊＊ on, come on
Are we gettin' close, huh？ It's right over here
Are you sure this Biggie Smalls crib man？
Yeah I'm sure mother＊＊＊, c'mon

Ah fuck it better be his mother＊＊＊ house
F＊＊＊ right here, this better be this mother＊＊＊ house
Oh s＊＊＊, what, what's wrong？ It's that red dot on your head man
What red dot？ Oh s＊＊＊, you got a red dot on your head too, oh
s＊＊＊


Lyricist：Robert Kelly, Chris Martin, Christopher Wallace

Live from Bedford-Stuyverson, the livest one
Representin' B K to the fullest
Gats I pull it, ＊＊＊ duckin' when Big be buckin'
Chicken heads be cluckin' in my bathroom ＊＊＊

It ain't nuttin', they know Big be handlin'
With the Mac in the A'c door paneling
Bandaging M C's, oxygen they can't breathe
Mad tricks up the sleeve, red boxers so my ＊＊＊ can breathe

Breeze through in the Q 45 by my side, lyrical high
And those that rushes my clutches get put on crutches
Get smoked like Dutches, from the master
Hate to blast ya, but I have to, you see I smoke a lot
Your life is played out like Kwame, and them ＊＊＊ polka dots
Who rock the spot？ Biggie, you know how the weed go,
unbelievable

It's unbelievable, it's unbelievable
It's unbelievable, it's unbelievable

B I G, G I E, A K A, B I G, get it？ Biggie
Also known as the 'Bon Appetit'
Rappers can't sleep need sleepin', Big keep creepin'
Bullets heat-seekin', casualties need treatin'

Dumb rappers need teachin'
Lesson A, don't ＊＊＊ with B I, that's that, oh I, thought he was
wacko
Oh come come now, why y'all so dumb now？
Hunt me or be hunted,I got 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

It's unbelievable, it's unbelievable
It's unbelievable, it's unbelievable

Buck shots out the sunroof of Lexus Coupe's
Leave no witnesses, what you think this is？
Ain't no amateurs here, I damage and tear
M C'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 ＊＊＊ 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 M C
N＊＊＊＊＊ know the Steelo, unbelievable

It's unbelievable, it's unbelievable
It's unbelievable, it's unbelievable
Believable, believable, believable, believable


Lyricist：Chris Martin, Christopher Wallace

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine
It's the ten ＊＊＊ commandments, what
N＊＊＊＊ can't tell me nothin' 'bout this ＊＊＊
Can't tell me nothin' 'bout this ＊＊＊, this ＊＊＊

To my hustlin' ＊＊＊
＊＊＊ on the corner I ain't forget you ＊＊＊
My triple beam ＊＊＊, word up
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 s＊＊＊, I wrote me a manual
A step by step booklet for you to get
Your game on track, not your wig pushed back

Rule number uno, never let no one know
How much, dough you hold, 'cause you know
The cheddar breed jealousy 'specially
If that man ＊＊＊ up, get your ＊＊＊ 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
I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and
chips

Number three, never trust nobody
Your moms'll set that ＊＊＊ up, properly gassed up
Hoodie to mask up, s＊＊＊, for that fast buck
She be layin' in the bushes to light that ＊＊＊ up

Number four, know you heard this before
Never get high on your own supply
Number five, never sell no ＊＊＊ where you rest at
I don't care if they want a ounce, tell 'em bounce

Number six, that God＊＊＊ credit, dig it
You think a ＊＊＊ head payin' you back, ＊＊＊ forget it
Seven, this rule is so underrated
Keep your family and business completely separated

Money and blood don't mix like two ＊＊＊ and no ＊＊＊
Find yourself in serious s＊＊＊
Number eight, never keep no weight on you
Them cats that squeeze your ＊＊＊ can hold jobs too

Number nine, shoulda been number one to me
If you ain't gettin' bags stay the f＊＊＊ from police
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 ＊＊＊ my man Jake up, heard in three weeks
She sniffed a whole half of cake up
Heard she suck a good ＊＊＊ and can hook a steak up
Gotta go, gotta go, more pots to bake up, word up

＊＊＊ king, Frank Whi'zza
One, two, three, four, five
One, two, three, four, five
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten


Lyricist：Sean Puffy Combs, Anthony Henderson, Steven Howse, Steven
Jordan, Bryon Mccane, Christopher Wallace

Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(We gonna rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Yes, Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Betta run and tell everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, c'mon
Let's ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, c'mon

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(We gonna rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Betta run and tell everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Notorious Thugs
(Nuthin' but them thugsters)
(Nuthin' but them thugster, thugsters)
Notorious Thugs
(Nuthin' but them thugsters)
(Nuthin' but them thugster, thugsters)

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, c'mon
Let's ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, c'mon

Armed and dangerous, ain't too many can bang with us
Straight up ＊＊＊, no ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, label us Notorious
Thug ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊ that love to bust, it's strange to us
Y'all ＊＊＊ be scramblin', gamblin'

Up in restaurants with mandolins and violins
We just sittin' here tryin' to win, tryin' not to sin
High off ＊＊＊ and lots of gin
So much smoke need oxygen, steadily countin' Benjamins

＊＊＊ you should too, if you knew
What this game'll do to you
Been in this ＊＊＊ since ninety-two
Look at all the bull＊＊＊ I been through

So-called beef with you know who
F＊＊＊ a few female stars or two
And a blue light, ＊＊＊, move like Mike, ＊＊＊
Not to be f＊＊＊＊＊ with

Mother＊＊＊ better duck quick
'Cause me and my dogs love to buck ＊＊＊
＊＊＊ the luck ＊＊＊, strictly aim
No aspirations to quit the game

Spit yo' game, talk yo' ＊＊＊
Grab yo' ＊＊＊, call yo' click
Squeeze yo' clip, hit the right one
Pass that ＊＊＊, I got to light one

All them ＊＊＊ I got ta fight one
All them ＊＊＊, I got ta like one
Our situation is a tight one
Whatcha gonna do, fight or run？

Seems to me that you'll take B
Bone and Big, ＊＊＊ die slowly
I'ma tell you like a ＊＊＊ told me
Cash rule everything around me

＊＊＊, lyrically, ＊＊＊ can't see me
＊＊＊ it, buy the ＊＊＊, cook the ＊＊＊, cut it
Know the ＊＊＊ 'fore you caught yourself lovin' it
＊＊＊ with a Benz ＊＊＊ it

Doesn't it seem odd to you
Big come through with mobs and crews
Good fellas down to the Mo Thugs dudes
Who's the killa, me or you？

We forgive you
For you know not what you do

Seven A.M., woke in the mornin'
With Hen and caffeine and green and nicotine
No dough so pop a couple of doze
'Lil Ripsta, ＊＊＊ Mista Clean

＊＊＊ Dean, deep in my temple and not to get
Sentimentally sting, wit my
Instrumelody and heated
Especially for your team

And a forty-five indeed will beam
In between the scenes destroy your dreams
You willin' to die, we'll see
How many flees when I cause the scene

We mean mug, Mo Thugs
Trained to be perfect, disciples
When it's survival tongue, never double-edged sword
Triple, six rivals spittin' fire

This the real truth, ＊＊＊, breakin' out for lies
My Messiahs better be ready for Armageddon ＊＊＊'s expired
It's wild, bless the child, the one that became a man
Put in positions off in the Claire, all that I had to do was
stare

Test me now, contender, never no surrender, no pretend
Pick up my pen, in my hand, one of my trusted friend, friend,
hey
Open it let's see if we're real, we all suited
Beg my pardon to Martin, baby, we ain't marchin', we shootin'

In daily recruitin' there's a tough law
Everyday in the ghetto
We start 'em off little, we give 'em a bottle
And a pen and a pad to hit the label kick it

＊＊＊ roll wit Bone up into the Thug spot
To the dome wit a shot of bird
Never get tossed to the curb
Be feelin' that urge to splurge

But I'm broke as ＊＊＊, son, gimme that Mossberg swerve
Up into my bag 'cause I gotta get my mask and shells
To put in this twelve gauge sawed off
Get 'em all off, ＊＊＊ yo' loss, take it all off

Got a ＊＊＊ car door
But the Bone not Leatherface, too many are thinkin' they Thugs
They need the most help to pull it in doves
And ＊＊＊ if you stickin', we buckin' them guzzlers, ＊＊＊ up

Now let me get done with the grime
Gotta go purchase a dime
Put in a state to get done with the crime
Smokin' the ＊＊＊ to ease my mind

Swig some wine, step on the block with the rocks
But Willie be servin' 'em clemency
Gotta buck him on down if he come back talkin'
Like gimme back me money

Thuggin' with me killers, need us a leader
Or liquor but ＊＊＊ ain't got ＊＊＊
Wit a sawed off pump, chrome thirty-eight ＊＊＊
Now who ready to get bent

＊＊＊ like me feenin' for them green leaves
But I ain't had no dough
Gotta make some money so
I'm makin' my dummy rocks if I go broke

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(We gonna rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Betta run and tell everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, c'mon
Let's ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, c'mon

Yeah, Little Lay, hey, comin' in the form of scripture
Finna get ya and hit ya wit magic
Droppin' down licks, betta call on my gadgets
With an automatics status we spray time to load the glocks

But I'm thinkin' not
There's another, he forced tellin' me do what I gotta do
So my otha potnah ＊＊＊ die tonight
And I'm always runnin' from the boys in blue

Biggie booms on my ＊＊＊ now provide the cellular phone
The carphone, what's happenin'
Grab artillery ＊＊＊, start packin'
'Cause a mother＊＊＊ try to get me in a jacket and I did him

Hit him right between the eyes, despise the wise
Wanna test a ＊＊＊ size, that'll cost him
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊ around wit the wrong ＊＊＊
Y'all get mo murdered all day, all day
We done paved the way and I'm on the run

I'ma call my boys and bring all the guns
Y'all ＊＊＊ wanna have a little fun wit number one
One, one, then it red, red rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum
But it red, red rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, but it red, red
rum

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(We gonna rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Betta run and tell everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, c'mon
Let's ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, c'mon, c'mon

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(We gonna rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Betta run and tell everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, c'mon
Let's ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, c'mon, c'mon


Lyricist：Phalon Anton Alexander, Sean Combs, Eldra P De Barge, Steven
A Jordan, Simon Lebon, Harold Spencer Jr Lilly, Nick Rhodes,
Joyce E Sims, Angela L Stone, John Taylor, Christopher Wallace,
Antoine Whitley

I go, on and on and on and
Don't take 'em to the crib unless they b＊＊＊＊＊
Easy, call 'em on the phone and
Platinum Chanel cologne and

I stay, dressed, to impress
Spark these ＊＊＊ 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.

Back of my mind I hope she ＊＊＊
Man, she spilled 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 off, 'Well I don't usually'

Then I, whipped it out, rubber no doubt
(Let's go)
Step out, show me what you all about
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aow

Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
And I don't stop, until I ＊＊＊
Jeans skirt, butt-naked, it all work

God I love my little nasty girl
Know I love my little nasty girl
I love my little nasty girl
All the ladies if you wit me grab your ＊＊＊ for B.I.G.
(Ladies and gentlemen)

My little nasty girl
All my women from around world
I love my little nasty girl
(You know I like nasty girls)
All the ladies if you wit me grab your ＊＊＊ for B.I.G.

I need you to dance, I need you to strip
I need you to shake your little ＊＊＊ and hips
(Let's go)
I need you to grind like you're workin' for tips
And give me what I need while we listen to Prince

'Cause Miss you ain't seen the world yet, rock La Pearl yet
Rock them pearl sets, if you want a pearl jet
My style make a low-profile girl smile
Blow a chick back like I blow through a trial
(Take that)

And now you an' me can drink some Hennesey
Then we can get it on
Mad women wantin' to ＊＊＊ Sean Combs, sippin' on Patron
Speeding, be leanin', got 'em fiendin'

An' when I get it to you throw it right back
An' tell me, â½Hoodie, yeah I like it like thatâ
Lift your shirt, you know how I flirt
Heels and skirts, just take it off, now let's work it

God I love my little nasty girl
Know I love my little nasty girl
I love my little nasty girl
All the ladies if you wit me grab your ＊＊＊ for B.I.G.

My little nasty girl
All my women from around world
I love my little nasty girl
All the ladies if you wit me grab your ＊＊＊ for B.I.G.

Uh, Jay and B.I.G.
(What？ What？)
Got the keys from Diddy
Women and liquor, no stress
Meet us upstairs in your best, yes

Dressed, to impress
Spark these ＊＊＊ interest
Jazzy on the beat so sweet
Ladies know you feel me grab your ＊＊＊ for B.I.G.

Okay man, what's your preference？
Nice an' slow or fast an' reckless
Pull your hair girl, bite your necklace
Let me show you what a ＊＊＊ from the Lou is blessed with
(Hey)

I'll make you spring a leak
When I'm done I'll flip the mattress, change the sheets
(Gotta change 'em)
I'm not the radical one
I ＊＊＊ a little more than your mechanical one

From your ＊＊＊ to your thong
Either way mamma, I'ma make it do what it do
Girl I'm about to make you ＊＊＊
Guaranteed when you're ＊＊＊ wit me, girl

'Cause I go on and on, on and on and on
(You hear me？)
On and on and on
Ladies if you feel me grab them things for Biggie

God I love my little nasty girl
Know I love my little nasty girl
I love my little nasty girl
All the ladies if you wit me grab your ＊＊＊ for B.I.G.

My little nasty girl
All my women from around world
I love my little nasty girl
All the ladies if you wit me grab your ＊＊＊ for B.I.G.

God I love my little nasty girl
Know I love my little nasty girl
I love my little nasty girl
All the ladies if you wit me grab your ＊＊＊ for B.I.G.

My little nasty girl
All my women from around world
I love my little nasty girl
All the ladies if you wit me grab your ＊＊＊ for B.I.G.


69.F＊＊King You Tonight

Lyricist：Sean Combs, Daron Jones, Robert Kelly, Christopher Wallace

Uh, I like that, you like that？
Here's another one and another one
And another one and another one
Uh, oh yeah？

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm f＊＊king you tonight
Here's another one and another one
Uh, uh, what？

Some say the X, make the sex
Spectacular, 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 it's alright with you, we fuckin'
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 her

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

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm f＊＊king you tonight
Here's another one and another one
And another one, one, one

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm f＊＊king you tonight
And another one, uh

Girl, you look fine, like a wind face Rolex, you just shine
I like that waistline
Let me hit that from behind, which wall you wanna climb
My style's 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 it's eight tracks and six-packs while I hit that

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm f＊＊king you tonight
I'm f＊＊king you, yeah

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm f＊＊king you tonight
Tonight, make you feel so right
Let it come to me, when you're out of me

Let's stop the bullshit, baby
Let me take you to the spot, get you hot
So you wanna be with me, Puff Daddy
B.I.G., bring that ass to me, oh baby

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm f＊＊king you tonight
I said, I'm f＊＊king you tonight, I'm f＊＊king you tonight
Stroking you tonight, yeah

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm f＊＊king you tonight
Fuckin' you baby, I'm fuckin' you baby

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm f＊＊king you tonight
I'm doing it baby, I'm doing it baby, I'm doing it babe, yeah,
oh

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm f＊＊king you tonight, well, I'm f＊＊king you tonight
I know what you must say, given it to you anyway, I possibly

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm f＊＊king you tonight, ooh baby, sugar


70.Living In Pain

Lyricist：Mary J Blige, Sean Combs, Lamont Herbert Dozier, Osten S
Harvey, Michael Carlos Jones, Nasir Jones, Tupac Amaru Shakur,
Randy Walker, Christopher Wallace, Mario Mendell Winans

Welcome to the house of pain, Just Blaze niggaz
There's no way out, it seems I can't get free
Somebody tell me what's happenin' to me

The country bud got me chokin'
I'm on a mission to the point motherfuckers think I'm smokin'
Yeah, that sick nigga Biggie wit' the H-shot fifth
Wit' the extra clip for that extra shit

Don't you know that killin' is thrillin'
All the blood spillin' is all up on the drug dealin'
A broad gangsta my daddy was a thug
Had a 38 wit' the hallow point slug

So when he lit shots
Niggaz dropped quicker than bootlegger sells his liquor
A little nigga tried to squeeze .22's in my Reebok shoes
Payin' dudes, while kids was on their one's and two's

Now I'm much older, colder, fuck a holster
Got the Mac .11's swingin' from my shoulder
It's a damn shame I got to put my mom through the strain
I'm livin' in a house of pain

Is anybody listenin' and tell me can you can see
This darkness surroundin' me
Now it's gettin' colder heavy on my shoulder
And it's gettin' hard to breathe

And it's gettin' blurry, I'm gettin' worried
'Cause it's gettin' hard to see
When you're living in the house of pain

When the motherfuckin' dust kicker, who can you trust？
Who gave you the heart to see a nigga？
Before you bust, my name is spoken on the tongue so many foes
Bustin' motherfuckers out the blocks and I ain't even go

Now how the hell do you explain my claim to fame
From doin' fix to bustin' tricks out the fuckin' frame
Got these bitches on my jock niggaz on my block
Jealous ass suckers got it duckin' for my fuckin' glock

And bustin' niggaz ass is to stay alive
Skinny ass playa watchin' victim motherfuckers fry
They ask me how I'm livin' how I'm a hustler？
Buckin' busters till they die

Now it's on in the ghetto you ain't heard？
Niggaz got they AK's headin' for the bird
Aimin' at free ass bitches let 'em rain
Givin' 'em, wettin' 'em, welcome to the house of pain

Is anybody listenin' and tell me can you can see
This darkness surroundin' me
Now it's gettin' colder heavy on my shoulder
And it's gettin' hard to breathe

And it's gettin' blurry, I'm gettin' worried
'Cause it's gettin' hard to see
When you're living in the house of pain

Wendy Williams say I stayed dust, maybe I should
'Cuz these rappers'll have your phone tap like Savion Glover
And on the West the police corrupt, some are bloods
But these Teflon I loaded explodin' some mugs

I'm like Furious in Boyz In the Hood
But at the drive through I'm ain't runnin' I'm dumpin'
Crazy like a paru and load up, know how Nas do
I'm callin' Henchmen to save shit, to organize a black truth

And we party hard party wit' Nas
Since they ain't no more, Mardi Gras and Bush won't apologize
I got gangsta hoes Kobe Bryant scared to sodomize
And .45's for them suckers y'all idolize

Y'all yellin' my name but y'all soon die in
Tryin' to portray real but they be lyin'
'Cuz they want the real niggaz to die so they can game
But neva that, this ain't neva lastin' this is the house of pain

Is anybody listenin' and tell me can you can see
This darkness surroundin' me
Now it's gettin' colder heavy on my shoulder
And it's gettin' hard to breathe

And it's gettin' blurry, I'm gettin' worried
'Cause it's gettin' hard to see
When you're living in the house of pain


71.Living The Life

Lyricist：Deric Michael Angelettie, Christopher Bria Bridges, Cordozar
Calvin Broadus, Jerry Butler, Trevell Coleman, Melissa A
Elliott, Faith Evans, Craig J Mack, Christopher Wallace, Barry
Eugene White, Marvin Jerome Yancy

To my motherfuckin' man, 'Fifty Grand', 'The Alcoholic Man'
Inject a tall can in his blood stream if he can
Biggie Smalls, the pussy stroker
Emcee prover, chocolate tah smoker

I like to max in Maximas and Acuras
The raw rapper, spot snapper
Wit the lil' hookers on my lap-ah, you know your favorite macker

A shy nigga but I ain't ya fuckin' comforter
And if I ever fall in love, I better fuck it up
Ask the hooker if I didn't jug her
If she try to front then I drop the Chucky Booker on her

Why you wanna play games on me？
Bitch, you crazy？ Commitments, I'm Swayze
No time for the ill shit
Mess with the niggaz on that real blood, spill shit

My rappin' tactics are drastic
Stretchin' motherfuckers like Mr. Fantastic
So, if you wanna see my pedigree
You better be filled with energy, niggaz never gettin' me

Big cities and bright lights
Short days and long nights
No stress and no strife
I'm high off living the life

Big cities and bright lights
Short days and long nights
No stress and no strife
I'm high, I'm high off living the life

It's clear to see that I'm the motherfuckin' man
I done learned from the best of 'em
Took the first slot, niggaz, still second guessin' 'em
Hoes, I'm undressin' 'em, foes, I'm not stresin' 'em
Outlastin' a bunch of 'em, outflowed the rest of 'em

'Cuz everyday, I stay preachin' on this pulpit
So, tell them haters they could miss me with that bullshit
But I won't miss this, Luda, the heat holder
I'm rich, bitch, I've done more shows than Hova

And I'm a soldier, ready for whatever
Roll with a bunch of niggaz that don't know no better
King like Coreddar, countin' mo' cheddar
Just hired two dykes to be my ho' getters

When it comes to these women, dog, ain't nobody fuckin' wit me
They runnin' back, you think I had TJ Duckett wit me
That's 'cause I throw it like Vick from the yard line
Menage a trois, it's safe to say I'm havin' hard times

Big cities and bright lights
Short days and long nights
No stress and no strife
I'm high off living the life

Big cities and bright lights
Short days and long nights
No stress and no strife
I'm high, I'm high off living the life

To my nigga Chopper dot, with the whoopty-whop on the block
Got the heaters cocked 'cause I know them suckers on the block
Hennesey and Belve-D, brings a lot of jealousy
Nigga, stop snitchin', nephew, why you tellin' me？

He used to be a G but now he just a ho'
Runnin' 'round, poitin' fingers, tellin' names
You fuckin' up the rules to this dirty game, it's a dirty shame

I ain't flippin' out, that's probably why I'm dippin' out
Y'all fools trippin' out, that's why I'm on a different route
Makin' money, havin' clout, is that what it's all about？
Twenty-seven cars and a twelve bedroom house

Now, they call me Snoopy Trump
I keep my heater close 'cause I love to bust
I sustain on a nigga, I bang on a nigga
Kick rocks and watch how I do my thang
Young nigga, I'm livin' the life

Big cities and bright lights
Short days and long nights
No stress and no strife
I'm high off living the life

Big cities and bright lights
Short days and long nights
No stress and no strife
I'm high, I'm high off living the life

Big cities and bright lights
Short days and long nights
No stress and no strife
I'm high off living the life

Big cities and bright lights
Short days and long nights
No stress and no strife
I'm high, I'm high off living the life


72.It Has Been Said

Lyricist：Sean Puffy Combs, Bill Conti, Jay Hawkins, Steven Jordan,
Steven Lee King, Chris E. Martin, Marshall B Mathers Iii, Jason
Phillips, Luis Edgardo Resto, Trevor Smith, Obie (iii) Trice,
Christopher Wallace, Leroy V Watson

It has been, it has been, it has been, it has been

It has been said that there has been known to be bloodshed
Over bread, men who have bled to death, dead
Strapped to beds, pipe bombs, dynamite, lead
Money power respect, street cred, yeah

It's scary, ain't it？ Picture yourself goin' out as a hero
Picture mural pictures of us painted all over street corners
Fans meet to mourn us, while we meet the coroners
Notorious tried to warn us

We watched, so many Biggie backed off of
Biggie's back and 'Pac's, landmarks, history in rap
Statistically in fact, it's so sad to see us re-enact
These tragic events, which lead us back

To where we left off on March 9th to come from such hard knock
lifes
And make it up out of 'em, hit the spotlights
And, once they're on us this is our lives
Thrust out for all eyes to cast upon us to see who can last the
longest

And he who lasts the longest, must be the strongest
In this concrete jungle, where this dog eat dog mentality comes
from
It's origin, which is usually originated from cats who starvin'
Or it could just be somebody's horror that just horrifies

And applies to his persona or the sizes
In his entourage, that intimidates the people
To the point that you know that he's gangster
He ain't just say shit, you just believe it

Since B.I.G. taught us niggaz to think big
I'm been about my business since then, so anxious
It ain't how we live, it's what he said, he did it for Brooklyn
This I took in, sent chills through my skin

Vicious, I'm experiencin' the same sights as him
It's what excited Obie to write these poems
Rollin', goin' through the same shit he spoken
Open up my eyes, so there's no limit in them skies

'When Ready To Die' was a sick part of my life
Palmin' that forty-five, plottin' to pop my mind
Then that crooked eye Jamaican, I'd so many times rewind
Got me to walk a straight line and get up on my grind

Get up out the system, who could give him better signs？
No pop of mine could top Big Poppa rhymes
So, possibly I'd be popular, huh？
That's the inspiration I got from my nigga B.I.

I took him from coal to diamond, I molded his mind
Enter the most phenomenal artist of any and all time
I made a Frankenstein, my design impressed
Backpackers and press, who said my house was a mess

Critics lashed, said I made a fortune off of his passin'
All I did was build a dynasty, off of his passion
And I'm addressin' the adolescents absent to who he is
The original king of New York, Christopher Wallace

This is a promise on Diddy's honor, I'm a father T'Yanna
And teach her that with all the drama, don't even bother
On repeat, all of your albums play back to back
And I visit your grave 'cause our friendship's intact

An immaculate concept, extravagant progress
Bullet wounds left in my heart, I'm yellin', 'God bless'
Regardless to critics yellin' that East, West
I seen the game losin', I'm just pressin' the reset

And when the resurrection of you shines through an individual
Lyrical enough to wear the same crown of thorns literally
I'ma pay homage, Brooklyn's finest
Whether it's Queens or Harlem, it'll be instant stardom, nigga


73.Get Your Grind On

Lyricist：Carlos Daronde Broady, Sean Combs, Darryl Matthe Mcdaniels,
Nashiem Sa-allah Myrick, Lamont Juarez Porter, Christopher Rios,
Christopher Wallace

But I would've loved to hear
A Big Pun and B.I.G. collabo
That shit would've been incredible

Aye yaknahmsayin', it was just happen
We have our day, you know？ I seen him
I seen him, I seen him at the pearly gates, yaknahmean？
We keep it, keep it, keep it going from there

Uhh, I dream filthy
My moms and pops mixed me
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 dead off, squeeze lead off
Benz sped off, ain't no shook hands in Brookland
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 'em filled 'em with the Lugars from they
Rugers

Or they Desert, dyin' ain't the shit but it's pleasant
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
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

Nigga still gotta get his grind on
Come get introduced to my home, I grew up in the crime zone
Soon as you grown, you on your own, you keep your strap
You keep your chrome 'cause the streets is chilly
Now get your grind on

Come get introduced to my home
A nigga grew up in the projects, end up gettin mo' stressed
Mo' money, mo' drama you know a nigga keep his armor
'Cause the streets are killin', now get your grind on
Come get introduced to my home

Yo, yo, the penalty is death, especially when I'm mentally
stressed
My enemies hang with me 'til I eventually flip
I never reject an offer to battle, slap a coffin on the saddle
And rattle like a wooden horse to El Barrio

Niggaz talk but they babble 'cause they ain't sayin' nuttin'
If ain't blazin' somethin' with the mac I'm in the shack bakin'
muffins
Fake the funk and get your rump roast
One dose of the toast'll make you jump if you come close

Pun spoke, ain't no more debatin' my Squad been waitin'
For the perfect time to give you what you all been waitin'
An orgination of veterans built
With genuine skills to pay the heat, gas, and the rest of the
bills

Invest in the real, don't get left in the hills
My tech and my steel turn your whole crew into vegetabills
We blessed with the will to never surrender
'Cause my every agenda's in and out, unseen like I entered the
ninja

Nigga still gotta get his grind on
Come get introduced to my home, I grew up in the crime zone
Soon as you grown, you on your own, you keep your strap
You keep your chrome 'cause the streets is chilly
Now get your grind on

Come get introduced to my home
A nigga grew up in the projects, end up gettin mo' stressed
Mo' money, mo' drama you know a nigga keep his armor
'Cause the streets are killin', now get your grind on

I got that new F-N, call it that faggot nigga gun
Couple of hollow tips make you faggot niggaz run
Crack pull up, everybody clear out
Anybody pumpin' that rock is gettin' aired out

I'm in that caddy with my bitch in the pack
Your mommy got a body but she itchin' to clap
And I know you pitchin' purple but we switchin' the packs
Listen, don't make me hurt you, I'm just givin' the facts

On that I 9-5 swirvin' to a town near you
My niggaz watch out for that Black Surburbans
And no it's not the Feds, man papi's home
And papi got it good, he could put you on

Listen, I done made abandoned blocks look hot
Nine to ten Benzes, a couple of drops
Couple of rubber bands from the corrupt cops
Just to see my niggaz eat and shit and huggin' the blocks

Crack a chestize 'em, right besides 'em
In front of a hundred million viewers, shouldn't surprise 'em
We from the Bronx where the mayors lift up
And niggaz get shot in broad day 'cause we don't give a

Fuck little niggaz on bike and just shoot you
All for a pair of some Nikes, the shits brutal
I done seen fiends O.D., shot the wrong pack
Then they call the shit the bomb smack

Word to Crack, the God body
The hard body, the realest ever
The John Gotti, this rap shit
Will it kill me？ Never

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 Morgan than Freeman

I took the cream and, moved to new places new faces
Fuck the screwfaces, 'cause when I flip
I make the papers, dangerous, we Goodfellas
Niggaz can't bang with us, try to do me

My crew be unruly to old school cats that call gats toolies
Call blacks moolies, think it's cool to smoke woolies
And fuck without rubbers, 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, with these Cristal chicks
'Bout to make our own porno flicks, my life's the shit


74.Notorious

Lyricist：Sean Combs, Kimberly Jones, Simon Lebon, Nick Rhodes, John
Taylor, Davin Paul Vanderpool, Christopher Wallace

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
An' go take about like twenty Gs from Gino

Tell that muh'fucker get this nigga next door
Up out of here, nigga be snorin' all night, I can't sleep
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 an' 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
Any repercussion, Junior M.A.F.I.A. spit clips
All the time, Big Poppa kick the war rhymes
Raw flows an' that's how it goes

Notorious
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 an' things
For the bitches who see them rims spin an' grin
That shit with the V trim that win

An' 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 an' splurge the tab

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 an' bend her up, you know the deal

Niggaz talkin' real greasy on some ballin' shit
Funny how quick these pricks forget
Actin' like I ain't the reason they traded they shit
Switched that 5, copped out 6
It's all good, you know who the clone is
Fuck the Joneses, niggaz tryin' to keep up with the Combses

Notorious
We are, we are no-no-no-notorious
He is, he is No-No-No-Notorious

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 an' your chaperon
Things done changed but we continue to reign
As the king and the queen of hip-hop, me an' B.I.

Frank White still listen to all the '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 stilettos

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

Notorious, no-no-no-notorious
He is, he is No-No-No-Notorious
We are, we are no-no-no-notorious
He is, he is No-No-No-Notorious

We are, we are no-no-no-notorious
He is, he is No-No-No-Notorious
We are, we are no-no-no-notorious
He is, he is No-No-No-Notorious


75.Long Kiss Goodnight

Lyricist：Robert Diggs, Christopher Wallace

See, I told you
See, I told y'all muh'fuckers
Yo, yo, that stupid nigga man
I told y'all to stop, he fucked up, yo

Time, time for you to die
As I kiss yo' ass goodnight

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

Time, time for you to die
As I kiss yo' ass goodnight
Time, time for you to die
As I kiss yo' ass goodnight

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

Time, time for you to die
As I kiss yo' ass goodnight
Time, time for you to die
As I kiss yo' ass goodnight

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, 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

Time, time for you to die
As I kiss yo' ass goodnight

Time, time for you to die
As I kiss yo' ass goodnight

Time, time for you to die
As I kiss yo' ass goodnight
...


76.Playa Hater

Lyricist：Sean J Combs, Wilbert Hart, Steven Jordan, Christopher
Wallace

{Good evening and for my last hit
I'd like to take you back to the classic
B.I.G. style of course}

Playa hater, 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

You know we need this money
And you, yes baby, you should just roll with me
Let's go off together
Of this robbin' spree, we'll make money

Playa hater, 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

Playa hater, 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

Playa, playa hater, playa, playa hater
Playa, playa hater, playa, playa hater
Playa hater, hater, playa hater, hater
Playa hater, hater

{Thank you, thank you very much
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}


77.Ten Commandments

Lyricist：Chris Martin, Christopher Wallace

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine
It's the ten crack commandments
What, nigga can't tell me nothin' 'bout this coke
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
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 number 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
I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and
chips

Number three, never trust nobody
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 crack head payin' you back, shit forget it
Seven, this rule is so underrated
Keep your family and business completely separated
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
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 pots to bake up, word up

Crack king, Frank Whi'zza
One, two, three, four, five
One, two, three, four, five
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten


78.I Love The Dough

Lyricist：Shawn Carter, Osten Harvey, Rene Moore, Christopher Wallace,
Angela Winbush

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' Tyson
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, 'W', still tote steel
Trying' to see five mil off the single, for real
You ain't fazing' the amazing', while your gun's raisin', mine
is blazing'

See you on see me all talking' to sweetness
Take it for weakness and leave quick
Blocker, Roch-a-, Fella, Bad Boy collaborate
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
I love the dough, more than you know
Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey

Miraculous, 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
Everybody 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

Reminisce 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 every time he see our faces

Cases catch more than outfielders
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

I love the dough, more than you know
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 love the dough, more than you know
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


79.You're Nobody (Til Somebody Kills You)

Lyricist：Sean Combs, George Johnson, Steven Jordan, Ethram Lopez, Jean
Louhsdon, Billy Preston, Christopher Wallace

Yeah, 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 anoint 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
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)

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
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

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

Thorough bitches, adapt to any borough bitches
Be in spots where they were no bitches, you feel me
Reminisce on dead friends too
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)

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)

You could be the shit, flash the fattest five
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？

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

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？

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)
You're nobody til somebody


80.Ten Crack Commandments

Lyricist：Chris Martin, Christopher Wallace

One, two, three, four, five
Six, seven, eight, nine
It's the ten crack commandments, what？

Nigga can't tell me nothin' 'bout this coke
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

One, two, three, four, five
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten

I been in this game for years, it made me a animal
There'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
An' violence, take it from your highness
I done squeezed mad clips at these cats
For they bricks an' chips

Number three, never trust nobody
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 goddamn credit, dead it
You think a crack head payin' you back, shit, forget it
Seven, this rule is so underrated
Keep your family an' business completely separated

Money an' blood don't mix like two dicks an' no bitch
Find yourself in serious shit
Number eight, never keep no weight on you
Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jumps too

Number nine shoulda been number one to me
If you ain't gettin' bags, stay the fuck from police
If niggaz think you snitchin', they ain't tryna 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, â½Hell, noâ
'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 an' can hook a steak up
Gotta go, gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up

Crack king, Frank Blizzard
One, two, three, four, five
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten


Lyricist：Roy Ayers, James Bedford, Kimberly Jones, Sylvia Striplin,
Christopher Wallace

＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money

You wanna sip mo' on my living room flo'
Play Nintendo with Cease-a-Leo
Pick up my phone say, 'Poppa not home'
Sex all night, mad head in the morn'

Spin my V, smoke all my weed
Tattoo on ＊＊＊ sayin' B I G, now check it
You wanna be my main squeeze baby
Don'tcha, you wanna gimme what I need baby

Won'tcha, picture life as my wife just think
Full length mink, fat X and O links
Bracelets to match, conversation was all that
Showed you the safe combinations and all that

Guess you could say you's the one I trusted
Who would ever think that you would spread like mustard？
＊＊＊ got hot, you sent Feds to my spot
Took me to court, tried to take all I got

'Nother intricate plot, the ＊＊＊ said I raped her
Damn, why she wanna stick me for my paper？
My Moscino ＊＊＊, my Versace hottie
Come to find out, you was ＊＊＊ everybody

You knew about me, the fake ID, cases in Virginia, body in D.C.
Woe, oh is me, that's what I get for trickin'
Pay my own bail, commence to ＊＊＊ kickin'
Lick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was, 'Poppa don't hit me no more'

Disrespect my click, my ＊＊＊ imperial
＊＊＊ around and made her milk box material
You feel me suckin' ＊＊＊, runnin' your lips
'Cause of you, I'm on some real fuck a ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, uh

＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money

＊＊＊, betta grab a seat
Grab on your ＊＊＊ as this ＊＊＊ gets deep
Deeper than the ＊＊＊ of a ＊＊＊ six feet
Stiff ＊＊＊ feel sweet in this little petite

Young ＊＊ from the street, guaranteed to stay down
Used to bring work outta town on Greyhound
Now I'm Billboard now, ＊＊＊ press to hit it
Play me like a chicken, thinkin' I'm pressed to get it

Rather do the killin' than the stick up jerks
Or rather count a million while you eat my pussy
Push me to the limit get my feelings in it
Get me open while I'm commin' down your throat

Then, you wanna be my main squeeze ＊＊＊
Don'tcha, you wanna lick between my knees ＊＊＊
Don'tcha wanna see me whippin' your 3 down the Ave
Blow up spots on ＊＊＊ because I'm mad

Break up affairs lick shots in the air
You get vexed and start swingin' everywhere
Me shifty, now you wanna pistol whip me
Pull out your nine, while I cock on mine

Yeah, what ＊＊＊, I ain't got time for this
So what ＊＊＊ I'm not tryin to hear that shit
Now you wanna buy me diamonds and Armani suits
Adrienne Vitadini and Chanel 9 boots
Things that make up, for all the games and the lies
Hallmark cards, sayin', 'I apologize'

Is you wit me, how could you ever deceive me
But pay back's a ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, believe me
Naw, I ain't gay this ain't no ＊＊＊ flow
Just a lil' somethin', to let you mother＊＊＊ know

＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money
＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money, ＊＊＊ ＊＊＊, get money
...


Lyricist：Sean Combs, Daron Jones, Robert Kelly, Christopher Wallace

Uh, I like that, you like that？
Here's another one and another one
And another one and another one
Uh, oh yeah？

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm loving you tonight
Here's another one and another one
Uh, uh, what？

Some say the X, make the sex
Spectacular, make me lick you from yo' neck
To yo' back, then ya, shiverin', tongue deliverin'
Chills up that spine, that ＊＊＊ is mine

Skip the wine and the candlelight, no, Cristal tonight
If it's alright with you, we ＊＊＊
Deja vu, the blunts sparked, finger ＊＊＊ 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 her

Way she used to rub my back, when I hit that
Way she used to giggle when yo' ＊＊＊ would wiggle
Now I know you used to suites at the Parker Meridian
Trips to the Carribean, but tonight no ends

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm loving you tonight
Here's another one and another one
And another one, one, one

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm loving you tonight
And another one, uh

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 style's genuine, girl, I love you long time

I got you pinned up, with yo' ＊＊＊ 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 ＊＊＊, go to my door
Then they go to his flo' to ＊＊＊ 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 it's eight tracks and six-packs while I hit that

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm loving you tonight
I'm loving you, yeah

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm loving you tonight
Tonight, make you feel so right
Let it come to me, when you're out of me

Let's stop the bull＊＊＊, baby
Let me take you to the spot, get you hot
So you wanna be with me, Puff Daddy
B.I.G., bring that ＊＊＊ to me, oh baby

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm loving you tonight
I said, I'm f＊＊＊＊＊＊ you tonight, I'm f＊＊＊＊＊＊ you tonight
Stroking you tonight, yeah

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm loving you tonight
＊＊＊ you baby, I'm ＊＊＊ you baby

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm loving you tonight
I'm doing it baby, I'm doing it baby, I'm doing it babe, yeah,
oh

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm loving you tonight, well, I'm ＊＊＊ you tonight
I know what you must say, given it to you anyway, I possibly

You must be used to me spendin'
And all that sweet winin' and dinin'
Well, I'm loving you tonight, ooh baby, sugar


83.Niggaz Bleed

Lyricist：Carlos Broady, Sean Combs, Nashiem Myrick, Christopher
Wallace

Today's agenda, got the suitcase up in the Sentra
Go to room 112, tell 'em Blanco sent you
Feel the strangest, if no money exchanges
I got these kids in Ranges, to leave them ＊＊＊ brainless

All they tote is stainless, you just remain as
Calm as possible, make the deal go through
If not, here's 12 shots, we know how you do
Please make your killings 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, your life is on the shelf, we mean this Frank
Them cats we ＊＊＊ wit put bombs in yo' moms gas tank

Let's get this money baby, they shady, we get shady
Dress up like ladies and burn 'em with dirty 380's
Then they come to kill our babies, that's all out
I got gats that blow the wall out, clear the mall out

＊＊＊ the fallout, word to stretch I bet they ＊＊＊
The seven digits push me, ＊＊＊ real, here's the deal
I got a hundred bricks, fourteen-five a piece
Enough to cop a six, buy the house on the beach

Supply the peeps with Jeeps, brick apiece, capiche？
Everybody gettin' cream no one considered them leech
Think about it now, that's damn near one-point-five
I kill 'em all I'll be set for life, Frank pay attention

These mother＊＊＊ is henchmen, renegades
If you die they still get paid, extra probably
＊＊＊ the robbery, I'm the boss, promise you won't rob 'em, I
promise
But of course you know I had my fingers crossed

＊＊＊ bleed just like us
Picture me bein' scared of a ＊＊＊
That breathe the same air as me
＊＊＊ bleed just like us
Picture me bein' shook we can both pull burners
Make the mother＊＊＊ beef cook

＊＊＊ bleed just like us
Picture a ＊＊＊ hidin', my life in that man hands
While he just decidin'
＊＊＊＊ bleed just like us
I'd rather go toe to toe with all of y'all
Runnin' ain't in my protocol

Since it's on, I call my ＊＊＊ Arizona Ron
From Tuscon, pushed the black Yukon
Usually had the slow grooves on, mostly rock the Isley
Stupid as a young 'un, chose not the moves wisely

Sharper with game, him and his crooks, called The Juxs
Heard it was sweet, 'bout three-fifty a piece
Ron bought a truck, two bricks laid in the cut
His peeps got bucked, got locked the ＊＊＊ up

That's when Ron vanished, came back, speakin' Spanish
Lavish habits, two rings, twenty carats
Here's a criminal, ＊＊＊ made America's Most
Killed his baby, mother, brother, slit his throat

The ＊＊＊ 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 to gain, 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 science

＊＊＊ bleed just like us
Picture me bein' scared of a ＊＊＊
That breathe the same air as me
＊＊＊ bleed just like us
Picture me bein' shook we can both pull burners
Make the mother＊＊＊ beef cook

＊＊＊ bleed just like us
Picture a ＊＊＊ hidin', my life in that man hands
While he just decidin'
＊＊＊＊ bleed just like us
I'd rather go toe to toe with all of y'all
Runnin' ain't in my protocol

We agreed to go on shootin' is silly
Because ＊＊＊ could be hidin' in showers with Mac-Milli's
So I freaked 'em, the telly manager was Puerto Rican
Gloria, from Astoria, I went to war with her

Peeps in ninety-one, stole a gun from my workers
And they took drugs, they tried to jerk us
We blazed they place, long story, Glo' seen my face
Got shook, thought a ＊＊＊ was comin' for the safe

Now she breakin', shut up, 112, what's shakin'？
A Jamaican, some ＊＊＊ I swear, they look gay
In a black Range Rover, been outside all day
If it's trouble let me know, I'll be on my way

Please, I got kids to feed, I done seen you make ＊＊＊ bleed
Nightmare, this ＊＊＊ don't need it
Ron, get the gasoline, this spot, we 'bout to blow this
Get the cash before the cops and Range Rover cats notice

Room 112, right by the staircase, perfect place
When they evacuate, they meet they fate
Ron pass the gasoline, the ＊＊＊ passed me kerosene
＊＊＊ it, it's flammable, my hunger is unexplainable

Strike the match, just what I expected
The dread kid ejected in seconds
And here come two, opposite sexes, one black, one Malaysian
We in the hallway waitin' patient

As soon as she hit the door we start blastin'
I saw her brains hit the floor, Ron laughin', I swear to God
I hit Maxi Priest at least twelve times in the chest
Spit around, shot the chink in the breast

She cryin', head shots put her to rest
Pop open the briefcases, nothin' but Franklin faces
The spot's hot, sprinklers, alarm systems
That's when other guests start to slip in

It's time for us to get to dippin'
I know them ＊＊＊ in the Range is on they way up
Flippin', pistol grippin', I load the clip in
The hallway, got real loud and crowded

They walked right past us, I don't know how they allowed it
The funny thing about it, through all the excitement
They Range got towed, they double parked by a hydrant
Stupid mother＊＊＊


Lyricist：Sean Combs, Kimberly Jones, Simon Lebon, Nick Rhodes, John
Taylor, Davin Paul Vanderpool, Christopher Wallace

No, no, no, Notorious, no, no, no, Notorious
No, no, no, Notorious, no, no, no, Notorious

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

＊＊＊ say I died dead in the streets
＊＊＊ I'm gettin' high, gettin' head on the beach
Chillin', sittin' on about half a million
With all my ＊＊＊, all my ＊＊＊, 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, ＊＊＊ them tricks
Any repercussion, junior mafia spit clips
All the time, big poppa kick the war rhymes
Raw flows and that's how it goes

Notorious, come on, we are, we are
No, no, no, Notorious
He is, he is, no, no, no, Notorious

This for my ＊＊＊ slingin' thangs, had my ring encaged
Truck, necklace, igloo ring and things
For the ＊＊＊, 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 ＊＊＊ 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 ＊＊＊, call me gone when I nut
That's the end of us, get your friend to ＊＊
Untwist and bend her up, you know the deal

＊＊＊ talkin' real greasy on some ballin' ＊＊＊
Funny how quick these pricks forget
Actin' like I ain't the reason they traded they ＊＊
Switched that 5, copped that 6
It's all good, you know who the clone is
＊＊＊ the Joneses, ＊＊＊ tryin' to keep up with the combses

Come on y'all, Notorious
We are, we are, what's his name
No, no, no, Notorious
He is, he is, come on, what's his name？
No, no, no, Notorious

Who that queen ＊＊＊, keep her glass filled to the rim
The Notorious k-i to the m
That's me, on MTV, no doubt
＊＊＊ out like what, I don't give a ＊＊＊

Y'all know my attitude, can't stand my cologne
Then stay your ＊＊＊ home, you and your chaperon
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 attention
I'm by his side, with the chrome fifth, playin' my position
Sexy young thing, from the ghetto
That ＊＊＊ 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 ＊＊＊ a favor

Notorious, no, no, no, Notorious
He is, he is, no, no, no, Notorious
We are, we are, no, no, no, Notorious
He is, he is, no, no, no, Notorious

We are, we are, no, no, no, Notorious
He is, he is, no, no, no, Notorious
We are, we are, no, no, no, Notorious
He is, he is, no, no, no, Notorious, we are, we are


85.Want That Old Thing Back

Lyricist：Jeffrey Atkins, Sean Combs, Reginald Ellis, Norman Glover,
Jack Knight, Chucky Thompson, christopher Wallace

Uh yeah, Bad Boy Baby, Ralph Tresvant
Biggie Smalls, listen
Uh, yeah baby oh, listen to me, oh yeah

When it comes to sex, I'm similar to the thriller in Manila
Honey's 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

Boy 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 rolled 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 Newton
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

What you wanna do？ I got that old thing back
What you wanna see？ Baby sing relax and feel him
What you give, where you are
You won't give it, you wouldn't start, oh

Just screamin' want that old thing back
Like I double G I E whit some R U L E
Notorious know to bust in the E Y E, baby baby
Bitches know they love and hate me

I come, you come, we come with back some maybe
How close we came to come the getto is crazy
How come you ain't, your sis make semi your faces
When I come you be cryin' like I'm killin' ya bitches

Knows when picture in the camera rolled
'Cause I only be knowin' how the shits unfolded
Back shots in the rear, got the mack unloaded
And got a reload, like every show off

You sayin' I got ma swag a back
I'm lookin' like bitch, ma swag near look left
It's so hard pressed, to be impressed by these new rappers
They actors, and the fact is you want that old thing back, shit

What you wanna do？ I got that old thing back
What you wanna see？ Baby sing relax and feel him
What you give, where you are
Where you are, you wouldn't start, oh

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 Benjamin's
Another hon's in the crib, please send her in

I fuck nonstop, lick my lips a lot, used to lick the clits a lot
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. Walk
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

What you wanna do？ I got that old thing back
What you wanna see？ Baby sing, relax and feel him
What you give, where you are
You wouldn't start, ha


86.Mo Money Mo Problems

Lyricist：Mason Betha, Sean Combs, Bernard Edwards, Steven Jordan, J
Phillips, Nile Rodgers, Christopher Wallace

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 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

I don't know what, they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

I don't know what, they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

Yeah, yeah, ah, ah, 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's when all the
ballin' stops

Nigga never home got a chrome one and a 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 will 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

I don't know what, they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

Uh, uh, B.I.G., P O, P P A, no info, for the, DEA
Federal agents mad cause I'm flagrant
Tap my cell and the phone in the basement
My team supreme, stay clean triple beam lyrical dream

I be that cat you see at all events bent
Gats in holsters girls on shoulders
Playboy, I told ya, bein' 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 their 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, get the phone number your name
I got to know, I got to go got the flow down phizat, platinum
plus
Like thizat, dangerous on trizack, leave your ass kizzack

I don't know what, they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

I don't know what, they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

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？
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？
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？
I don't know what, they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see


87.Sky's The Limit

Lyricist：Bobby Caldwell, Sean Combs, Hubert Eaves, Clark Kent,
Christopher Wallace, James N Williams

Baby, look at me, mama love you
And I know you ain't no little boy no more
But you'll always be my baby

It seems like only yesterday I was holding you in my arms
Now look at you now big, but I worry about you
I worry about you all the time
Hangin' out on the corner all times at night with the cruel
people

Baby that ain't nothin' but trouble
I always taught you that you could have whatever you dream
Well, I want you to hold on to that dream baby
Hold on to it real tight 'coz the sky's the limit

Good evenin' ladies and gentlemen
How's everybody doin' tonite？
I'd like to welcome to the stage
The lyrically acclaimed

I like this young man
Because, when he came out
He came out wit the phrase
He went from ashy to classy, 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

A nigga never been as broke as me, I like that
When I was young I had two pair of Lee's, besides that
The pin stripes and the gray
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
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 hoe's 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 â~em, stole wid â~em
I mean loyalty, niggaz bought me milks at lunch
The milks was chocolate, the cookies, butter crunch
In gear Oshkosh with blue and white ducks, pass the blunt

Sky's the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep on pressin' on
Sky's the limit and you know that you can have
What you want, be what you want

Sky's the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep on pressin' on
Sky's the limit and you know that you can have
What you want, be what you want
Have what you want, be what you want

I was a shame, my crew was lame, I have enough heart
For most of â~em long as I got stuff from most of â~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
Getting' 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 to waste
Eighty-eight long gates, snatch initial nameplates
Smokin' spliffs wit niggaz, real life beginner killers
Prayin' God forgive us for being sinners, help us out

Sky's the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep on pressin' on
Sky's the limit and you know that you can have
What you want, be what you want

Sky's the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep on pressin' on
Sky's 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 injections
Syringe sold separately, 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 mom's 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's the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep on pressin' on
Sky's the limit and you know that you can have
What you want, be what you want

Sky's the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep on pressin' on
Sky's the limit and you know that you can have
What you want, be what you want

Sky's the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep on pressin' on
Sky's the limit and you know that you can have
What you want, be what you want
...


88.Goin Back To Cali

Lyricist：Osten Harvey, Roger Troutman, Christopher Wallace

Yo
Yo, Big wake up wake up baby
Mmm, yo
Yo, Big wake yo' ass up c'mon

I'm up, I'm up, 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, 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, umm, flight five-oh-four

Five-oh-four
Leaving Kennedy
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
Yeah

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
I'm going, going, back, back, to Cali Cali
I'm going, going, back, back, to Cali Cali
I'm going, going, back, back, to Cali Cali

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

I'm going, going, back, back, to Cali Cali
I'm going, going, back, back, to Cali Cali
I'm going, going, back, back, to Cali Cali
I'm going, going, back, back, to Cali Cali

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

I'm going, going, back, back, to Cali Cali
I'm going, going, back, back, to Cali Cali
I'm going, going, back, back, to Cali Cali
...


89.Ms. Wallace (Outro)

Lyricist：Christopher Wallace

Hi I'm Voletta Wallace, Biggie's mom
I wish to thank you for your kind words
You warm gestures and your constant support over the years
I also need to share with you a few words about my son
Please take a few moments and listen
I hope you gain something from it, thanks

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 liked to be with his friends
As young kids or young boys he enjoyed life
Everything that would make him happy or comfortable
He would do but mostly he enjoyed being with his friends and
family

His early inspirations toward rap music were
The LL's of the world, the Sugar Hills, the Mr. Magics
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, 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 or 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 imperfect human beings
Where greed, jealousy and envy
Are 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 or traveling
On the other hand there were others
Who I should 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 appreciate his music, millions loved his
music
Be that it may if he hadn't chosen that lifestyle, that career
My son would be alive today
If I could sum up Christopher in one word the word would be
generous

The 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


90.Born Again

Lyricist：Harvey Osten, Harv Pierre, Jeffrey Walker, Christopher
Wallace

What about ten years from now？
Ten years from now, where do I want to be？
I wanna 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'll be？ Ten years
I don't think I will see it for real dogg 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

You're dead wrong
The weaker the strong
You got it going on
You're dead wrong

The weaker the strong
The weaker the strong
You got it going on
You're dead wrong

The weaker the strong
The weaker the strong
You got it going on
You're dead wrong


91.I'm With Whateva

Lyricist：John Carpenter, Dwayne Michael Carter, Laron James, Joseph A
Jones, Christopher Wallace

R.I.P Big
Jones, Capo, Santana
Lil Weezy, let's Ride

'Cause real g's know the feeling
(It's murda)
It's hard body, no remorse for the killing
(Watch it)

'Cause real g's know the feeling
(It's murda)
It's hard body, no remorse for the killing
(Weezy)

Mad trees and bitches in dungarees
The city under seas, kitchen 100 degrees
I love that summer breeze, I'll stand in it until it freeze
I'm from another breed, them s-s-southern G's

I sip phemetrazine, I lean, I stand tall
I'm mean, I'm mad raw, I'm coming like fastball
Steee-rike, yup, so get it right
Nigga, one of my sniplets'll end your whole life

You ain't nothing but a riblet to a nigga with a knife
In a fork, I'm a pig myself, I eat schwork
So be smart and play your own part
If you don't love yourself, I'll make you see your own heart

And we don't like the narcs, stay away from the cell
Hey, I'ma shoot it out if I'm facing the ail
Yeah, so tell your, girl, to come and make me rich
Weezy baby nigga, 9 to 5, 10 to 6

At night, I can't sleep, I toss and turn
Got my hand on my pistol, when will these motherfuckers learn？
I ain't going out without a fight
I'm with whatever and I ain't going out without a fight

I'm with whatever and I ain't going out without a fight
I'm with whatever, It'd be your life before my life
At night, I can't sleep, I toss and turn
Got my hand on my pistol, when will these motherfuckers learn？

It's showdown time, throwdown time
Safety off, four pound time
Clack clack, go get yours, I'll go get mine
Check it, man, I'm wit whatever

Goodness gracious the paper
Where the cash at？ Where the stash at？
I'll blow that ass back for fronting on a nigga like me
You got nothing on a nigga like me, you'll see

I'm on the grind from sun up to sun down
If I'm lying, may lightning come down and strike me right now
I'll turn a dollar to a twenty to a fifty to a hundred
Keep it coming till I'm full on my stomach

I'm stuck in my ways, I'm stuck puffing my hase
Hand on my pistol, front of it sprays
I'm stuck living the life of a ghetto nigga
Trying to get rid of the life, alright？

At night, I can't sleep, I toss and turn
Got my hand on my pistol, when will these motherfuckers learn？
I ain't going out without a fight
I'm with whatever and I ain't going out without a fight

I'm with whatever and I ain't going out without a fight
I'm with whatever, It'd be your life before my life
At night, I can't sleep, I toss and turn
Got my hand on my pistol, when will these motherfuckers learn？


92.Hypnotized

Lyricist：Randy C Alpert, Deric Michael Angelettie, Andy W Armer, Sean
J Combs, Ronald A. Lawrence, Christopher Wallace

Uhhh, uhhh, uh, c'mon

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 every 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, keep my piece
(C'mon)

Cubans with the Jesus piece with my peeps
(Thank you God)
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's why they broke and you're so paid
(Uh)

Biggie, Biggie, Biggie, can't you see？
(Uh-huh, 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)

I put hoes in N.Y. 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
(Hah)

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 plaintiff
Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement
(Shh)
Face it, not guilty, that's how I stay filthy
(Not guilty)
Richer than Richie, till you niggaz come and get me

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, can't you see？
(Uh-huh, 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)

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？)

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, can't you see？
(Uh-huh, 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, can't you see？
(Uh-huh, 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


93.Can't You See

Lyricist：James Brown, Sean Puffy Combs, Joe Howell, Herb Middleton,
Terri E. Robinson, Randy Ryan, Mark South, John Starks, Fred
Wesley

You just don't know what you do to me
(Bad Boy)

Uh, give me all the chicken heads
From Pasadena to Medina
Bet Big get in between ya
Then peek the prognosis, doses
Blends and Bends like Twizzlers
Biggie's fitting to hurt
What's under that skirt？
(Slow down, nigga, you're killin 'em)

Who fillin 'em with octane？ Got 'em gassed up
'Bout to get blast up, son
The last one, word to your mother, brother, listen
I've seen it when they kissed 'em at the wake
Made his body shake, the high guy in 850i's smoke tint

Rap terror, full chromed Anteras
True fly by the rivers but this is conspicuous
Bad Boys slipped in ninety-five ridiculous
My rap rhymes is like land mines
One step, ka-boom, black suits fill the room
To whom it may concern, Junior Mafia's the click
Act up, I'll have my honeys Total bust your shit

In the middle of the day now baby
I seem to think of only you
Never thinking for a moment baby
That you'd be thinking of me too, yeah
So I can't wait for the day that we can be together
I can't let you walk away, oh, can't you see, you and me,
Were meant to be, oh baby and there's nothing left to say

Oh baby, can't you see
What you do to me？
Our love was meant to be
You were meant for me

Oh baby, can't you see
What you do to me？
Our love was meant to be
You were meant for me

Every time I see you, I get this feeling, oh yeah
Telling me you are the one, oh, what a feeling
I can't wait for the day that we can be together
I can't let you walk away
Oh, can't you see, you and me
Were meant to be, oh baby
There's nothing left for me to say

Oh baby, can't you see
What you do to me？
Our love was meant to be
You were meant for me

Oh baby, can't you see
What you do to me？
Our love was meant to be
You were meant for me

You take me away, so far away
Oh, what you do to me, oh, oh
I wanna be alone together
Somewhere just you and me, oh, oh

Oh baby, can't you see
What you do to me？
Our love was meant to be
You were meant for me

Oh baby, can't you see
What you do to me？
Our love was meant to be
You were meant for me

Oh baby, can't you see
What you do to me？
Our love was meant to be
You were meant for me

Our love was meant to be
Our love was meant to be

Our love was meant to be
Our love was meant to be

Our love was meant to be
Our love was meant to be
...


94.Unbelieveable

Lyricist：Robert Kelly, Chris Martin, Christopher Wallace

Live from Bedford Stuyvesant's, the livest one
Representin' BK to the fullest
Gats I pull it, bastards duckin' when Big be buckin'
Chicken heads be cluckin' in my bathroom fuckin'

It ain't nuttin', they know Big be handlin'
With the Mac in the act all 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 clutches 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

B I G, G I E, A K A, B.I.G., get it？ Biggie
Also known as the boon appetite
Rappers can't sleep need sleepin' Big keep creepin'
Bullets 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 Caucasians 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

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 gats 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


95.Ultimate Rush (Featuring Missy Elliott)

Lyricist：Melissa A Elliott, Fabian Hamilton, Isaac Hayes, Kimberly
Jones, Christopher Wallace

Damn Ma, I love you like a lot
Gonja, sensamelia, can I feel ya？
All I wannah do, is touch ya
The ultimate rush, the drugs, baby

Don't you know, I'm the ultimate？
To get this milk, you be fortunate
Just like tasting pussy with pork in it
People stop, when I'm walking in
I'm twisting, twisting, I'm back on ten
And I'm talking 'bout like Mase, come back again

My steez is immaculate
My paper stacking, keep tracking
I'm macing, y'all slacking, reaction
Make y'all dicks scream
I'm more gutter then golddiggers with figures
More bigger then Jiggas, and even Paris Hiltons

Damn sir, sniff me like a Coke
Thrillons, me won't give you none
Cintamelia, all you wannah do is sniff me
The ultimate rush, get high, baby

Damn sir, sniff me like a Coke
Three lines, me won't give you none
Cintamelia, all you wannah do is sniff me
The ultimate rush, the drugs, baby

Damn Ma, I love you like a lot
Gonja, sensamelia, can I feel ya？
All I wannah do, is touch ya
The ultimate rush, the drugs, baby

Damn Ma, I love you like a lot
Gonja, sensamelia, can I feel ya？
All I wannah do, is touch ya
The ultimate rush, the drugs, baby

Now, Biggie Smalls is not the type to fall in love
When I just hit em' and forget em' and go handle my business
I like the kind who wine and dine, who grinding all the time
Your X girl was a 5, but you not let up on a dime

What is this with you？ All you wannah do is lay around
And stay around and get mad when I play around
I like to lay, never work, put your money in my purse
To the mall, I'll go search matching shoes for my skirt

Tuesday, I saw you in a Z, but you still wannah get with me
Wednesday is the Benz day, that's what your friends say
Me and my friends, got your Benz
Attracting mens, and spending dividence, blowing like the wind

Damn Ma, I love you like a lot
Gonja, sensamelia, can I feel ya？
All I wannah do, is touch ya
The ultimate rush, the drugs, baby

Damn Ma, I love you like a lot
Gonja, sensamelia, can I feel ya？
All I wannah do, is touch ya
The ultimate rush, the drugs, baby

So I guess, you think I'm slipping, 'cause I ain't flipping
Baby, I'm Big Poppa, ain't no need to be tripping
I ain't tripping or flipping, I'm just niggah sipping
At the bar tipping, with your money, can you pay the difference？

It seems like it's a waste of time, that's why I wrote the rhyme
I hear you jumping in every car except for mine
Niggah, I don't jump in cars, I'm a superstar
Face way too flaw, You should hang me on your wall

All I do all day is drink Tanguray
Thinking of a way to put a smile on your face
Make me smile, see them teeth, Milo, cut down to them feets
Chubby waste, my physique, me don't want a freak a leek

Should I wine and dine and put rings on your fingers？
While sex from the next man in the bedroom lingers？
Sex will never linger, hold up, put on your blinkers
I flow just like sprinklers, give your ass the middle finger

You'd better slow your role, baby
You ain't got enough dough to pay me
You know the pen number, just page me
When you're real, baby

Damn Ma, I love you like a lot
Gonja, sensamelia, can I feel ya？
All I wannah do, is touch ya
The ultimate rush, the drugs, baby

Damn Ma, I love you like a lot
Gonja, sensamelia, can I feel ya？
All I wannah do, is touch ya
The ultimate rush, the drugs, baby


96.My Downfall

Lyricist：Carlos Broady, Sean Combs, Darryl Mcdaniels, Nashiem Myrick,
Christopher Wallace

Yo, sup, hello？
Faith？
Motherfucker

Yo
Kill you motherfucker
Hello？
Kill you motherfucker
Word？

I'm gonna get you motherfucker you better
Watch your motherfuckin' back
That's my word nigga, get the fuck outta here
Better watch your motherfuckin' back
Watch my back？ Word？

I'm gonna get Biggie, I'm gonna kill Biggie
You soft dude, you soft
Fuck all you niggaz, you all ain't shit
Watch your motherfuckin' back
Eat a dick

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

Uh, I dreams filthy
My moms and pops mixed me with Jamaican rum and whiskey
Huh, what a set up
Shoulda pushed 'em dead off, wipe the sweat off

Uh, 'cause in this world I'm dead off, squeeze lead off
Benz sped off, ain't no shook hands in Brookland
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 'em, filled 'em with the lugars from they
Rugers
Or they desert, dyin' ain't the shit but it's pleasant

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
Apologies 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

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

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
Me Morgan than Freeman

I took the cream and moved to new places, new faces
Fuck the screw faces, 'cause when I flip
I make the papers, dangerous, we Goodfellas
Niggaz can't bang with us, try to do me

My crew be unruly
To old school cats that call gats toolies
Call blacks moolies, think it's cool to smoke woolies
And fuck without rubbers, 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 chicks
'Bout to make our own porno flicks, my life's the shit

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

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, all we got is mo' ice
And mo' nice, sacrifice your heart
Lexus with the automatic start
Fifty shots'll tear your club apart

Eatin' shrimp A la Carte, with some bitches from Brussels
Eatin' clams and mussels
Uh, out the puss, pretty face no waist
I just want the bush, so I can mack you

Give her a package to push, 'cause I work dem hoe's
Pendejo's, I show you how to play them hoe's
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 keep a mill' in the briefcase
Infrareds help me sleep safe, but wait

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

See, 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 us, 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
And without thinkin' about us on your mind
We gon' haunt your asses motherfuckers

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


97.Running Your Mouth

Lyricist：Calvin Broadus, Sean Combs, Nathaniel Hale, Steven Jordan,
Jean Louhisdon, Billy Preston, Trevor Smith, Christopher Wallace

Where Brooklyn at？ Where Brooklyn at？
Where Brooklyn at？ Where Brooklyn at？
Where Brooklyn at？ Where Brooklyn at？
Where Brooklyn at？ One, two, three and

Now they say you ain't never suppose to envy no man
Can't tell that to a dingy old man
Who see a young nigga getting plenty dough man
Icy Audemar, Hendy gold band

With a mean girl like Lindsay Lohan
That's why I keep the nine in the Bently door pan
Trust it's gon' bust you roll on us
Know it's gon' blow for my dough

Why would you try with that guy？
Scene told you he keep it G
We can bang like the two chains on my neck
The hood is Iraq, I'm Hussein in the 'jects

The coup's up, take the new Lame for a sec
Twelve inches up, new cane in the deck, nigga
Right now with a squeezer and a coozie
And I'm goin' out like Keyshia with the Uzzi

They talk about it, we all about it
They making plans, we sit and counting
Our cheddar stack, it's just like a mountain
You heard about it 'cause she running her mouth

She wants to ride and she's trying to hide it
I'm cool as ever, she's too excited
Her man look like he want to fight
He ain't doing nothing, but running his mouth

Fuck around and feel the fury of a high, nigga
When I get busy, throw your hands in the sky, nigga
I got the illest of the ill mentality, niggas be grabbing me
Knowing that they'd rather be stabbing me

All up in my back trying to take my track
When I used to sell crack, I ain't had problems like that
Street rules, watch your pockets and your jewels
A nigga front, throw the gat to the fool

Necks wanna move, buts getting blasted
Streets to a flows from the ill, ghetto bastard
As I release masterpieces like adhesive
Stuck to your ass like tissue when you're wiping fast

MC's have a hard time believing
I mark with death, hard to kill like Steven
When Jake come, I'm leaving, the black man's motto
You got a better chance playing Lotto, what you want, nigga？

They talk about it, we all about it
They making plans, we sit and counting
Our cheddar stack, it's just like a mountain
You heard about it 'cause she running her mouth

She wants to ride and she's trying to hide it
I'm cool as ever, she's too excited
Her man look like he want to fight
He ain't doing nothing, but running his mouth

Ah, yo, now watch me dip-dip-di-dive all over the beat
Now watch me drip-drip-dri-di all over the street
The general consensus is you'll be the dominating fleet
Bitch raw and let me continue to bring the heat

You know who been the kings of the block, the kings of the drops
The kings of the crap music and the kings of the cross
Niggas, fire then, drop shit like the purest of powder
That's why most of these niggas little song be sounding like
ours

Couple years ago, niggas probably thought I was dying
Now same niggas are idolizing, put our face in the shrine
Yeah, I took a little time to cook and show you what's really
hot
How the fuck any of you niggas think, you feeling my spot？

Why you niggas getting mad at us？ We shit on your floors
All in your house, nigga, our strategies is different from yours
Listen, you come, you can do it while I continue to preach
Snoop, fam, bigger bust of the stand if you can't reach, let's
go

Run for your gun, you suckers, B I G I'm a get them,
motherfuckers
Don't you worry about a thing, bang-bang-boogie
I got a few chickens that's gon' work that noggie
In the lack with a sack, go and put it on the mat

What it do, nephew
(Where Brooklyn at？)
Uh, turning it out, run in your house
Gun in your mouth, motherfucker, quit running your mouth

They talk about it, we all about it
They making plans, we sit and counting
Our cheddar stack, it's just like a mountain
You heard about it 'cause she running her mouth

She wants to ride and she's trying to hide it
I'm cool as ever, she's too excited
Her man look like he want to fight
He ain't doing nothing, but running his mouth

What you really want from a nigga？


Lyricist：Sean Combs, Bunny De Barge, Mark De Barge, Rashad Smith,
Christopher Wallace

One, that's right, Bad Boys
Don't go, don't go, don't go, I love you so

One more chance
Biggie give me one more chance
One more chance
Biggie give me one more chance

First things first I poppa freaks all the honies
Dummies, Playboy Bunnies those wantin' money
Those the ones I like 'cause they don't get nathan
But penetration unless it smells like sanitation

Garbage I turn like doorknobs
Heart throb never black and ugly as ever
However I stay Coogi down to the socks
Rings and watch filled with rocks

And my jam knock in the Mitsubishi
Girls pee pee when they see me
Navajos creep me in they tee pee
As I lay down laws like Alan Coppet
Stop it, if you think they gonna make a prophet

Don't see my ones, don't see my guns, get it
Now tell ya friends Poppa hit it then split it
In two as I flow with the Junior M.A.F.I.A.
I don't know what the hell's stoppin' ya

I'm clockin' ya, Versace shades watchin' ya
Once ya grin, I'm in game, begin
First I talk about how I dresses this
In diamond necklasses, stretch Lexuses

The sex is just immaculate from the back I get
Deeper and deeper, help ya reach the
Climax that your man can't make
Call him, tell him you'll be home real late and sing the break

Biggie here I am
All I need is one more chance
I will love you by yourself
'Cause you don't need nobody else

She's sick of that song on how it's so long
Thought he worked his until I handled my biz
There I is, Major Payne like Damon Wayans
Low Down Dirty even like his brother Keenan

Schemin', don't leave ya girl round me
True player for real, ask Puff Daddy
You ringin' bells with bags from Chanel
Baby Benz, traded in your Hyundai Excel

Fully equipped, CD changer with the cell
She beeped me, meet me at twelve
Where you at？ Flippin' jobs, playin' car notes？
While I'm swimmin' in ya women like the breast stroke

Right stroke, left stroke was the best stroke
Death stroke tongue all down her throat
Nuttin' left to do but send her home to you
I'm through can ya sing the song for me, boo？

One more chance
(One more chance)
Biggie give me one more chance
(Give me one more chance)
One more chance
Biggie give me one more chance
One more chance

So, what's it gonna be？ Him or me？
We can cruise the world with pearls, gator boots for girls
The envy of all women, crush linen
Cardea wrist-wear with diamonds in 'em

The finest women I love with a passion
Ya man's a wimp, I give that ＊＊＊ a good thrashin'
High fashion, flyin' into all states
Sexin' me while ya man ＊＊＊

Isn't this great？ Your flight leaves at eight
Her flight lands at nine, my game just rewinds
Lyrically I'm supposed to represent
I'm not only the client, I'm the player president

One more chance
Biggie give me one more chance
(One more chance)
One more chance
Biggie give me one more chance

All I need is one more chance
(One more chance)
I will love you by yourself
(Biggie give me one more chance)
'Cause you don't need nobody else
(One more chance)

Biggie here I am
(Biggie give me one more chance)
All I need is one more chance


Lyricist：Calvin Broadus, Sean Combs, Nathaniel Hale, Steven Jordan,
Jean Louhisdon, Billy Preston, Trevor Smith, Christopher Wallace

Where Brooklyn at？ Where Brooklyn at？
Where Brooklyn at？ Where Brooklyn at？
Where Brooklyn at？ Where Brooklyn at？
Where Brooklyn at？ One, two, three and

Now they say you ain't never suppose to envy no man
Can't tell that to a dingy old man
Who see a young ＊＊＊ getting plenty dough man
Icy Audemar, Hendy gold band

With a mean girl like Lindsay Lohan
That's why I keep the nine in the Bently door pan
Trust it's gon' bust you roll on us
Know it's gon' blow for my dough

Why would you try with that guy？
Scene told you he keep it G
We can bang like the two chains on my neck
The hood is Iraq, I'm Hussein in the 'jects

The coup's up, take the new Lame for a sec
Twelve inches up, new cane in the deck, ＊＊＊
Right now with a ＊＊＊ and a coozie
And I'm goin' out like Keyshia with the ＊＊＊

They talk about it, we all about it
They making plans, we sit and counting
Our cheddar stack, it's just like a mountain
You heard about it 'cause she running her mouth

She wants to ride and she's trying to hide it
I'm cool as ever, she's too excited
Her man look like he want to fight
He ain't doing nothing, but running his mouth

＊＊＊ around and feel the fury of a high, ＊＊＊
When I get busy, throw your hands in the sky, ＊＊＊
I got the illest of the ill mentality, ＊＊＊ be grabbing me
Knowing that they'd rather be stabbing me

All up in my back trying to take my track
When I used to sell ＊＊＊, I ain't had problems like that
Street rules, watch your pockets and your jewels
A ＊＊＊ front, throw the gat to the fool

Necks wanna move, buts getting ＊＊＊
Streets to a flows from the ill, ghetto ＊＊＊
As I release masterpieces like adhesive
Stuck to your ＊＊＊ like tissue when you're wiping fast

MC's have a hard time believing
I mark with death, hard to kill like Steven
When Jake come, I'm leaving, the black man's motto
You got a better chance playing Lotto, what you want, ＊＊＊？

They talk about it, we all about it
They making plans, we sit and counting
Our cheddar stack, it's just like a mountain
You heard about it 'cause she running her mouth

She wants to ride and she's trying to hide it
I'm cool as ever, she's too excited
Her man look like he want to fight
He ain't doing nothing, but running his mouth

Ah, yo, now watch me dip-dip-di-dive all over the beat
Now watch me drip-drip-dri-di all over the street
The general consensus is you'll be the dominating fleet
Bitch raw and let me continue to bring the heat

You know who been the kings of the block, the kings of the drops
The kings of the crap music and the kings of the cross
＊＊＊, fire then, drop shit like the purest of powder
That's why most of these ＊＊＊ little song be sounding like ours

Couple years ago, ＊＊＊ probably thought I was dying
Now same ＊＊＊ are idolizing, put our face in the shrine
Yeah, I took a little time to cook and show you what's really
hot
How the ＊＊＊ any of you ＊＊＊ think, you feeling my spot？

Why you ＊＊＊ getting mad at us？ We shit on your floors
All in your house, ＊＊＊, our strategies is different from yours
Listen, you come, you can do it while I continue to preach
Snoop, fam, bigger bust of the stand if you can't reach, let's
go

Run for your gun, you suckers, B I G I'm a get them, mother＊＊＊
Don't you worry about a thing, bang-bang-boogie
I got a few chickens that's gon' work that noggie
In the lack with a sack, go and put it on the mat

What it do, nephew
(Where Brooklyn at？)
Uh, turning it out, run in your house
Gun in your mouth, ＊＊＊, quit running your mouth

They talk about it, we all about it
They making plans, we sit and counting
Our cheddar stack, it's just like a mountain
You heard about it 'cause she running her mouth

She wants to ride and she's trying to hide it
I'm cool as ever, she's too excited
Her man look like he want to fight
He ain't doing nothing, but running his mouth

What you really want from a ＊＊＊？


100.One More Chance／Stay With Me Remix

Lyricist：Sean Combs, Bunny De Barge, Mark De Barge, Rashad Smith,
Christopher Wallace

One, that's right, Bad Boys
Don't go, don't go, don't go, I love you so

One more chance
Biggie give me one more chance
One more chance
Biggie give me one more chance

First things first I poppa freaks all the honies
Dummies, Playboy Bunnies those wantin' money
Those the ones I like 'cause they don't get nathan
But penetration unless it smells like sanitation

Garbage I turn like doorknobs
Heart throb never black and ugly as ever
However I stay Coogi down to the socks
Rings and watch filled with rocks

And my jam knock in the Mitsubishi
Girls pee pee when they see me
Navajos creep me in they tee pee
As I lay down laws like Alan Coppet
Stop it, if you think they gonna make a prophet

Don't see my ones, don't see my guns, get it
Now tell ya friends Poppa hit it then split it
In two as I flow with the Junior M.A.F.I.A.
I don't know what the hell's stoppin' ya

I'm clockin' ya, Versace shades watchin' ya
Once ya grin, I'm in game, begin
First I talk about how I dresses this
In diamond necklasses, stretch Lexuses

The sex is just immaculate from the back I get
Deeper and deeper, help ya reach the
Climax that your man can't make
Call him, tell him you'll be home real late and sing the break

Biggie here I am
All I need is one more chance
I will love you by yourself
'Cause you don't need nobody else

She's sick of that song on how it's so long
Thought he worked his until I handled my biz
There I is, Major Payne like Damon Wayans
Low Down Dirty even like his brother Keenan

Schemin', don't leave ya girl round me
True player for real, ask Puff Daddy
You ringin' bells with bags from Chanel
Baby Benz, traded in your Hyundai Excel

Fully equipped, CD changer with the cell
She beeped me, meet me at twelve
Where you at？ Flippin' jobs, playin' car notes？
While I'm swimmin' in ya women like the breast stroke

Right stroke, left stroke was the best stroke
Death stroke tongue all down her throat
Nuttin' left to do but send her home to you
I'm through can ya sing the song for me, boo？

One more chance
(One more chance)
Biggie give me one more chance
(Give me one more chance)
One more chance
Biggie give me one more chance
One more chance

So, what's it gonna be？ Him or me？
We can cruise the world with pearls, gator boots for girls
The envy of all women, crush linen
Cardea wrist-wear with diamonds in 'em

The finest women I love with a passion
Ya man's a wimp, I give that ass a good thrashin'
High fashion, flyin' into all states
Sexin' me while ya man masturbates

Isn't this great？ Your flight leaves at eight
Her flight lands at nine, my game just rewinds
Lyrically I'm supposed to represent
I'm not only the client, I'm the player president

One more chance
Biggie give me one more chance
(One more chance)
One more chance
Biggie give me one more chance

All I need is one more chance
(One more chance)
I will love you by yourself
(Biggie give me one more chance)
'Cause you don't need nobody else
(One more chance)

Biggie here I am
(Biggie give me one more chance)
All I need is one more chance


101.Dreams

Lyricist：Shawn Carter, Sean Combs, James Mtume, Jean Claude Olivier,
Christopher Wallace

As I sit back relax steam a blunt, sip a Becks
Think about the sexy singers that I wanna sex

I'd probably go to jail for fuckin' Patti Labelle
Ooh Regina Belle, she'd probably do me swell
Jasmine Guy was fly, Mariah Carey's kinda scary
Wait a minute, what about my honey Mary？

The jeans they fittin' like a glove
I had a crush on you since Real Love hold your horses
I'mma show ya who the boss of intercourse is sex
I'm takin' no losses even groups like SWV and TLC
Can't see B.I.G. wit telepathy

The recipe of picture hardcore wit a gun
Pimpin' ain't easy but it Sure is fun
When I bust my nuts I bust 'em one by one
So what's the 4-1-1 hun？

Dreams of fuckin' an R＆B bitch
I'm just playin' what I'm sayin'
Dreams of fuckin' an R＆B bitch
I'm just playin' I'm sayin'

Dreams of fuckin' an R＆B bitch
I'm just playin' but I'm sayin'
Dreams of fuckin' an R＆B bitch
I'm just playin' I'm sayin'

I'll put Chante Moore pussy in stitches I'll fuck Rupaul
Before I fuck them ugly ass X-scape bitches
You can 76 the 69 try 68 did Raven Simone call date rape？
Only 'cause I'm paid I'm fuckin' all of Jade

And my DJ Zhane she likes it when they say
Everybody move your body
Got Whitney Houson boostin' from Bobby
As I bust your cherry yo face lookin' scarry

Backshots to shakur I know that pussy hairy
Sade ooh I know that pussy tight
Smacked Tina Turner give her flashbacks of Ike

Smoke a stone fuckin' 'em bone I'm doin' all of them
Jimmy hats for Patra I'm usin' all of them
(What about Toni Braxton？)
If that bitch give me action guaranteed satisfaction

Dreams of fuckin' an R＆B bitch
I'm just playin' what I'm sayin'
Dreams of fuckin' an R＆B bitch
I'm just playin' I'm sayin'

Dreams of fuckin' an R＆B bitch
I'm just playin' but I'm sayin'
Dreams of fuckin' an R＆B bitch
I'm just playin' I'm sayin'


102.The World Is Filled...

Lyricist：Deric Angelettie, Mason Betha, Sean Combs, Todd Shaw, Kit
Walker, Christopher Wallace

Make it hot, make it hot
Make it hot, make it hot

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
Ohh, yeah

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 privilege
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 hood rats 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

The world is filled with pimps and hoes
We'll just talk about those I knows
(Make it hot)
The world is mine, can't you see
(Make it hot)
I'm just trying to be all I can be
Ohh, yeah

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

The world is filled with pimps and hoes
We'll just talk about those I knows
(Make it hot)
The world is mine, can't you see
I'm just trying to be all I can be
(Make it hot)
Ohh, yeah

Yeah, Too Short
I had a whole lotta bitches in my lifetime
I been blessed with the game always say the right lines
Had a few prostitutes 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 Short

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？
(Make it hot)
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
Every time you turn your back that bitch is fuckin' with dem
gangstas
East side, West side 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


103.Notorious Thugs

Lyricist：Sean Puffy Combs, Anthony Henderson, Steven Howse, Steven
Jordan, Bryon Mccane, Christopher Wallace

Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(We gonna rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Yes, Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Betta run and tell everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
Get high, get high, get high, c'mon
Let's ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
Get high, get high, get high

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(We gonna rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Betta run and tell everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Notorious Thugs
(Nuthin' but them thugsters)
(Nuthin' but them thugster, thugsters)
Notorious Thugs
(Nuthin' but them thugsters)
(Nuthin' but them thugster, thugsters)

Notorious Thugs
(Nuthin' but them thugsters)
(Nuthin' but them thugster, thugsters)
Notorious Thugs
(Nuthin' but them thugsters)
(Nuthin' but them thugster, thugsters)

Ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
Get high, get high, get high, c'mon
Let's ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
Get high, get high, get high

Armed and dangerous, ain't too many can bang with us
Straight up weed, no angel dust, label us Notorious
Thug ass niggaz that love to bust, it's strange to us
Y'all niggaz be scramblin', gamblin'

Up in restaurants with mandolins and violins
We just sittin' here tryin' to win, tryin' not to sin
High off weed and lots of gin
So much smoke need oxygen, steadily countin' Benjamins

Nigga you should too, if you knew
What this game'll do to you
Been in this shit since ninety-two
Look at all the bullshit I been through

So-called beef with you know who
Fuck a few female stars or two
Nigga, blue light, nigga, move like Mike, shit
Not to be fucked with

Motherfucker 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 yo' game, talk yo' shit
Grab yo' gat, call yo' click
Squeeze yo' clip, hit the right one
Pass that weed, I got to light one

All them niggaz I got ta fight one
All them hoes, I got ta like one
Our situation is a tight one
Whatcha gonna do, fight or run？

Seems to me that you'll take B
Bone and Big, nigga die slowly
I'ma tell you like a nigga told me
Cash Rule Everything Around Me

Shit, lyrically, niggaz can't see me
Fuck it, buy the coke
Cook the coke, cut it
Know the bitch 'fore you caught yourself lovin' it

Nigga with a Benz fuckin' it
Doesn't it seem odd to you
Big come through with mobs and crews
Good fellas down to the Mo Thugs dudes
Who's the killa, me or you？

We forgive you
For you know not what you do

Seven A.M., woke in the mornin'
With Hen and caffeine and green and nicotine
No dough so pop a couple of doze
'Lil Ripsta, nigga Mista Clean

Nigga Dean, deep in my temple and not to get
Sentimentally sting, wit my
Instrumelody and heated
Especially for your team

And a forty-five indeed will beam
In between the scenes destroy your dreams
You willin' to die, we'll see
How many flees when I cause the scene

We mean mug, Mo Thugs
Trained to be perfect, disciples
When it's survival tongue, never double-edged sword
Triple, six rivals spittin' fire

This the real truth, bitch
Breakin' out for lies
My Messiahs better be ready for Armageddon shit's expired
It's wild, bless the child

The one that became a man
Put in positions off in the Claire
All that I had to do was stare
Test me now, contender, never no surrender, no pretend

Pick up my pen, in my hand
One of my trusted friend, friend, hey
Open it let's see if we're real, we all suited
Beg my pardon to Martin

Baby, we ain't marchin', we shootin'
In daily recruitin' there's a tough law
Everyday in the ghetto
We start 'em off little, we give 'em a bottle
And a pen and a pad to hit the label kick it

Nigga roll wit Bone up into the Thug spot
To the dome wit a shot of bird
Never get tossed to the curb
Be feelin' that urge to splurge

But I'm broke as fuck, son, gimme that Mossberg swerve
Up into my bag 'cause I gotta get my mask and shells
To put in this twelve gage sawed off
Get 'em all off, nigga yo' loss, take it all off

Got a nigga car door
But the Bone not Leatherface, too many are thinkin' they Thugs
They need the most help to pull it in doves
And bitch if you stickin', we buckin' them guzzlers, fucked up

Now let me get done with the grime
Gotta go purchase a dime
Put in a state to get done with the crime
Smokin' the reefer to ease my mind

Swig some wine, step on the block with the rocks
But Willie be servin' 'em clemency
Gotta buck him on down if he come back talkin'
Like gimme back me money

Thuggin' with me killers, need us a leader
Or liquor but niggaz ain't got shit
Wit a sawed off pump, chrome thirty-eight pistol
Now who ready to get bent

Nigga like me feenin' for them green leaves
But I ain't had no dough
Gotta make some money so
I'm makin' my dummy rocks if I go broke

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(We gonna rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Betta run and tell everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
Get high, get high, get high, c'mon
Let's ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
Get high, get high, get high

Yeah, Little Lay, hey, comin' in the form of scripture
Finna get ya and hit ya wit magic
Droppin' down licks, betta call on my gadgets
With an automatics status we spray time to load the glocks

But I'm thinkin' not
There's another, he forced tellin' me do what I gotta do
So my otha potnah nigga die tonight
And I'm always runnin' from the boys in blue

Biggie booms on my ass now provide the cellular phone
The carphone, what's happenin'
Grab artillery niggaz, start packin'
'Cause a motherfucker try to get me in a jacket and I did him

Hit him right between the eyes, despise the wise
Wanna test a nigga size, that'll cost him
Nigga fuck around wit the wrong shit
Y'all get mo murdered all day, all day

We done paved the way and I'm on the run
I'ma call my boys and bring all the guns
Y'all niggaz wanna have a little fun wit number one
One, one, then it red, red rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum
But it red, red rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum
But it red, red rum

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(We gonna rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Betta run and tell everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
Get high, get high, get high, c'mon
Let's ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
Get high, get high, get high

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(We gonna rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Rock the party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Party)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Betta run and tell everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie
(Everybody)
Just Bone and Biggie, Biggie

Ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
Get high, get high, get high, c'mon
Let's ride, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
Get high, get high, get high


104.Party ＆ Bullshit

Lyricist：Gordy Jr Berry, Hal David, Osten Harvey, Willie Hutch,
Christopher Wallace, Bob West

Here we go, here we go
Here we go, here we go

I was a terror since the public school era
Bathroom passes, cuttin' classes, squeezing asses
Smoking blunts was a daily routine
Since thirteen, a chubby nigga on the scene

I used to have the tre' duce
And the duce, duce in my bubble goose
Now I got the mack in my knapsack
Loungin' black, smoking sacks up in acts
And sidekicks with my sidekicks rockin' fly kicks

Honeys want to chat
But all we wanna know is, where the party at？
And can I bring my gat？ If not, I hope I don't get shot
But I throw my vest on my chest 'cause niggaz is a mess

It don't take nothin' but frontin' for me to start somethin'
Buggin' and barkin' at niggaz like I was duck huntin'
Dumbing out, just me and my crew
'Cause all we wanna do is

And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and

Hugs from the honeys, pounds from the roughnecks
Seen my man Sei that I knew from the projects
Said he had beef, asked me if I had my peace
Sure do, two twenty two's in my shoes

Holler if you need me love, I'm in the house
Roam and strollin' see what the honeys is about
Moet popping, hoe hopping
Ain't no stopping Big Poppa, I'm a bad boy

Niggaz wanna front, who got your back？
(Biggie)
Niggaz wanna flex, who got the gat？
(Biggie)
It ain't hard to tell I'm the east coast over doser
Nigga, you scared you're supposed to

Nigga, I told ya, put fear in your heart
Fuck up the party before it even start
Pissy drunk, off the Henny and stuff
Or some brand-nubian shit beatin' down punks

And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and

Bitches in the back looking righteous
In a tight dress
I think I might just hit her with a little Biggie 101
How to tote a gun and have fun with Jamaican rum

Conversations, blunts in rotation
My man Big Jacques got the glock in his waist
And we're smoking, drinking, got the hooker thinking
If money smell bad than this nigga Biggie stinking

Is it my charm？ I got the hookers eatin' out my palm
She grabbed my arm and said, 'Let's leave calm'
I'm hittin' skins again, rolled up another blunt, bought a
Heineken
Niggaz start to loke out, a kid got choked out
Blows was thrown and a fucking fight broke out

Can't we just all get along？
So I can put hickies on her chest like Li'l Shawn
Get her pissy drunk off of Don Perrignon
And it's on and I'm gone, that's that

Party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
(Junior Mafia likes that)

And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
(Uptown likes that)
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
(Bad Boy likes that)

And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
(Brooklyn Crew likes that)
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit
(Third Eye likes that)
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit


105.Microphone Murderer

Lyricist：David Porter, Christopher Wallace, M Williams, N Wilson

A whole lotta niggaz want Big to make a demo tape
'Specially that bum ass nigga, uhh
This goin' out to you, nigga, recognize
Yo, 50, what's this？

Murderer, mass mayhem maker
B.I.G.'s on the mic, call the undertaker
Make an appointment, schedule an interview
Because you know what big man's about to do

50 Gran' on the technic at the right peak
Brothers wanna hear the words big man speak
The microphone, I rip it, the burner got the clip in
Slammin' MC's like Scottie Pippen

Flippin' on Old Gold, cold as the rhymes you stole
Puffin' on dime bags and I been told
My words are harder than a brick, Chinese arithmetic
A thick stick and my dick

Makes me sick when you pick the whick whack rhyme, G
You get what you pumpin' is Tic-Tac time, Z
B I G moves swifter than a ninja
Even on stickups I'm the masked avenger

Keep my eyes open and the case closed
No eyewitnesses, no names or expos
Just the heavyset one with the big gun
And a sweet tongue shakin' down everyone

Loot like Michael Jackson kicks like Bo Jackson
Benz like Freddie Jackson, no need to ask in the crew
Ooh, no, frontin', no fakin' moves
Fightin' or fuckin', resort to the stick and move

Smack the fool that disagree, recognize the pedigree
Rhyme is mine 'cause I said it's me
Step to a big man grippin' the mic stand
Keep a bankroll and so do 50 Gran'

And I give you my hand 'cause you deserve a pound
Tryin' to blow up the spot in my part of town
Braves, because you get no praise

Recognize, I don't fuck with the St. Ides
B I G down with OGB
Old Gold Brothers for the others that missed me
The crew stay deep on Bedford and Quincy

Rhymes in the pocket for a quick hand to hand
You want it to be on, there's a Tec in the garbage can
I pull bitches like Kim Fields, Brooke Shields
Shelley Long, Connie Chung, I can go on and on

Word is bond, I'm a don
I split 'em and run up in 'em, I fuck 'em and then I duck 'em
I hit 'em in the shitter and forget her and it gets better
BIG are the letters, niggaz know the pedi'

That's the end, what you want me to do？ Damn


106.Love No Ho

Lyricist：Max R Bennett, Larry E Carlton, John P Guerin, Joe Sample,
Thomas Wright Scott, Christopher Wallace

Yo Bigs man, what's wrong, man？
You look like you got problems, man
Hey, yo man, man, it's this fuckin' bitch, man

Shit, I know I ain't 'sposed to have
No feelings for these hoes out here, man
But this bitch on the back of my mind, man , what？

Yeah, man, done wrote a rhyme 'bout the bitch, man
Let me hear it
Want me to drop the drama kid？ Yeah

Yeah, dedicatin' this to you, man
My man 50 Gran' told me straight up and down, man
I ain't 'sposed to love no ho, know what I'm saying？

I tried to tell her 50, I got three rules in life
I'm not to be played with, played on or played out
I'ma drop it like dis

Lyin' in my bed, I'm lookin' at four walls
Echo in my head sayin' I got a lot of gall
Grippin' my cap, my pen in my teeth
Thinkin' what this ho said, she called me a thief

She said I stole her heart and didn't leave a trace
I told her I was sorry and she said get out my face
Walked out my door with my walkman and my pocket
Playin', 'Love is a house' and thinkin' how she jocked it

When she had the key to open up my door
Adore that prince scam that got me on the floor
I know that she loves me, I couldn't ever fake it
I say go buy a pie, the girl would go bake it

Makin' a record was important to me
More important than her, that's what made her flee
See, the mistake was not payin' no mind
All her posse said we was two of a kind

I called her back twice, your sister said you're broke
She said when you left your ears was full of smoke
Chokin' on a cigarette you don't even smoke
Jumped in the train station put in a token

Coulda been my partner, my amigo, my peer
Just waitin' for them three words that all girls wanna hear
I love you, huh you would start to cry
If I would reply with I L Y

Then I tell your friends that you played me out
Said I wouldn't say I love you just to make you shout
So I call up seven digits that would pick up your phone
Your sister picked it up and said that you wasn't home

I heard you in the back cryin' up a storm
Screamin' how you wish that I never was born
I hate him, I hate him that's what she kept sayin'
She'll come to her senses is what I kept prayin'

But now I'm gonna lay the cards on the line
Just say that you hate me or say that you're mine
I said when I played ball you was in the stands
When I was sick you held my hand
It was hard to say before but now I can
Bitch, I love no ho, fuck ya

I don't give a fuck about 'cha
Take a long walk off a short peer, bitch
Tryin' to take bankrolls
Bum bitches outta here, 50 man, now check it

Come to my crib, she say BIG listen
I don't like the way you been dissin'
Feel like I been kissin' other bitches 'cause my lips feel
chapped
I tell you it's from the blunts, you ain't tryin' to hear that

Now I'm Henny'd like a fuck, what's the riff？
Who I'm sleepin' with？ I ain't got the time
To shoot the gift to hoes, I'm tryin' to take bankroll
I ain't fuckin' nobody, case closed

You hit the lights and decide to doze off
No kiss goodnight, didn't take your clothes off
And my dick is harder than a rock
Nobody to cock block but you's a hard rock

The fuck you think I am, gay？
I ain't got no time to play, I ain't got nuttin' to say
Bounce out the crib just to see my man 50
And what's up with BIG and the OGB

You know they keep plenty hookers
And I ain't a bad looker
So I see one ho that I like yeah, ooh
Shit is cool
Trust no hoes, all they want is bankroll

That's what I'm tryin' to tell you now, baby
My man 50 done schooled me to all y'all hookers
Ya know what I'm sayin'？ I ain't lame to this
Can't spell game without me, the BIG


107.Hypnotize

Lyricist：Randy C Alpert, Deric Michael Angelettie, Andy W Armer, Sean
J Combs, Ronald A. Lawrence, Christopher Wallace

Uh, uh, uh, c'mon

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 every 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 peace, 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
I 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
I 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 with 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-trois, sex in expensive cars

I still leave you on the pavement
Condo paid for, no car payment
At my arraignment, note for the plaintiff
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 me

Biggie, Biggie, Biggie can't you see？
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
I 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
I 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 with 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 Obie, 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
I 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
I 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
I guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid
...


108.What's Beef？

Lyricist：Burt Bacharach, Carlos Broady, Sean Combs, Hal David, Nashiem
Myrick, Christopher Wallace

The Commission, Uncle Paulie, Big Ditti
Caesar Leo DeGenero, Charlie Baltimore, Iceberg Slim
The most shadiest, Franky Baby, we here
We ain't goin' nowhere
Ask yourself, do you know what beef is？

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 this rap Alfred Hitchcock
Drop top notch playa hating won't stop
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, B that is, I that is, G whiz
Motherfuckers still in my biz

Don't they know my nigga Gutter fuckin' kidnap kids？
Fuck 'em in the ass, throw 'em over the bridge
That's how it is, my shit is laid out
Fuck that beef shit, that shit is played out

Y'all got the gall, all I make is one phone call
All y'all disappear by tomorrow
All your guns is borrowed, I don't feel sorrow
Actually, your man passed the gat to me, now check this

What's beef？ Beef is when you need two gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your moms ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you
Guaranteed to be in ICU, one more time

What's beef？ Beef is when you make your enemies start your Jeep
Beef is when you roll no less than thirty deep
Beef is when I see you
Guaranteed to be in ICU, check it

I done smoked with the best of 'em shot at the rest of 'em
Was about a hundred or more, maybe less of 'em
Got my rocks off, that nigga from the Brook just be
Whylin' on you, just be stylin' on you

When I, tried to warn you but your eyes fucked up
Now I cleared them shits with hits you on the fuckin' bench
Pardon my French but ah, sometimes I get kinda
Peeved at these, weak MC's with the

Supreme baller like, lyrics I call 'em like I see 'em G
Y'all niggaz sound like me
Y'all was grimy in the early nineties, far behind me
It ain't hard to find me number one with the booyaka

Gimme the Remi and the chronic ain't no tellin' what I do to ya
It's obvious the game's new to ya
Take them ends you make and spend 'em on a tutor ha
One shot, I'm through with ya

What's beef？ Beef is when you need two gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your moms ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you
Guaranteed to be in ICU, one more time

What's beef？ Beef is when you make your enemies start your Jeep
Beef is when you roll no less than thirty deep
Beef is when I see you
Guaranteed to be in ICU, check it

There'll be nothin' but smooth sailin'
When I spit shots, now your crew's bailin'
All I got is heat and tough talk for you
Tie you up, cut your balls off just to use

Man listen straight torture, look what that slick shit bought ya
A first class ticket to Lucifer, real name Christopher
Watch me set it off like Vivica
Here lies your demise, close your eyes

Think good thoughts, die while your skin start to glisten
Pale blue hands get cold, your soul's risen
It's bad 'cause I just begun, what make the shit real bad
I was havin' fun

What's beef？ Beef is when you need two gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your moms ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you
Guaranteed to be in ICU, one more time

What's beef？ Beef is when you make your enemies start your Jeep
Beef is when you roll no less than thirty deep
Beef is when I see you
Guaranteed to be in ICU, and I'm through

It's like that, like that
Like that, like that, yeah, I like that
Big Nash, hit me baby
On and on and on and on
Bad Boy, y'all know what it is
Shit, I don't want no beef


109.Kick In The Door

Lyricist：Jay Hawkins, Chris Martin, Christopher Wallace

Welcome back
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
Like what are you so mad about？

You wanna know why, yo first of all, yo first of all you can't
Be askin' me no question kno' what I'm sayin' who the fuck is
you？
You kno' what I'm sayin'？
You can't be askin' me no question
I'ma tell you why I'm mad, you kno' what I'm sayin'？
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
You know you sayin', they drivin' around in hot cars,
Yuu know you sayin', they got bitches, they got all that shit

You kno' what I'm sayin', I'm still livin' with my moms
You kno' what I'm sayin', that's my word
You know you saying, 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
You know I'm sayin', 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
You kno' what I'm sayin', who is you？

I gots to talk, I gotta tell what I feel
I gotta talk about my life as I see it

This goes out to you
This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you

This goes out to you
This goes out to you
This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you

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
It's 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？'

Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more

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 or should I let you die？
In fear you start to cry, ask why
Lyrically, I'm worshipped, 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 'cuz 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

Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more
Kick in the door, wavin' the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more

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'
It's 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, that's why my money never funny
And you still recoupin', stupid


Lyricist：Sean Combs, James Mtume, Jean Olivier, Christopher Wallace

Yeah, this album is dedicated to all the teachers
That told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all 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 daughter
To all my peoples in the struggle, you know what I'm sayin'？
It's all good baby, baby, check it

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, you know

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' ＊＊＊s 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 ear
Lunches, brunches, interviews by the pool
Considered a fool 'cause I dropped out of high school

Stereotypes of a black male misunderstood
And it's still all good
And if you don't know, now you know, you know

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 thirsty

Damn right I like the life I live
'Cause I went from negative to positive
And it's all, it's all good
And if you don't know, now you know, you know

You know very well who you are
Don't let 'em hold you down, reach for the stars
(And if you don't know, now you know, you know)
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)

Representin' B-Town in the house
(Biggie Smalls)
Junior Mafia, Mad Flavor, uh, uh
(Bad Boy, I see you Gooch, yeah)
Aight, yeah
(Junior Mafia)

You know very well who you are
(Puff Daddy)
Don't let 'em hold you down, reach for the stars
You had a goal, but not that many
(It's all good, Brooklyn)
'Cause you're the only one, I'll give you good and plenty
(The Bronx, Queens, Uptown, Mt. Vernon)
(South Central, Detroit, East Side, West Side, it's all good)


111.Notorious B.I.G.

Lyricist：Sean Combs, Kimberly Jones, Simon Lebon, Nick Rhodes, John
Taylor, Davin Paul Vanderpool, Christopher Wallace

No, no, no, Notorious, no, no, no, Notorious
No, no, no, Notorious, no, no, no, Notorious

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
Any repercussion, junior mafia spit clips
All the time, big poppa kick the war rhymes
Raw flows and that's how it goes

Notorious, come on, 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
Funny how quick these pricks forget
Actin' like I ain't the reason they traded they shit
Switched that 5, copped that 6
It's all good, you know who the clone is
Fuck the Joneses, niggaz tryin' to keep up with the Combses

(No, no, no, Notorious)
We are, we are, what's his name？
(No, no, no, Notorious)
He is, he is, come on, what's his name？
(No, no, no, Notorious)

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 chaperon
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 attention
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

(No, no, no, Notorious)
We are, we are, what's his name？
(No, no, no, Notorious)
He is, he is, come on, what's his name？
(No, no, no, Notorious)

(No, no, no, Notorious)
We are, we are, what's his name？
(No, no, no, Notorious)
He is, he is, come on, what's his name？
(No, no, no, Notorious)


112.Guaranteed Raw

Lyricist：C Wallace

Chill Twan, damn, man
That nigga Big got somethin' to say？
Yo Big, what 'chu got to say Big？

Yeah, yeah, special shout out to my man
MC Homicide and DJ Fatal
Twin one and two, my man Milk
My man Fred Dawg, the OGB crew
Y'all know how we flow and I'ma drop it like this y'all

Oh, what a feeling drivin' in my four by four
Girlies galore, BIG on the door
Chrome trimming with the smoke tint
Givin' chumps a hit as I count my mint

Stacks of doves, half my mans is C-note
All from sayin' rhymes that BIG wrote
Blunt, I take a toke but only if it's weeds
Skunk with no seeds, a sip of Hennessy

Pass to D or maybe movin' solo
Never with a skeezer by my side, that's a no, no
Tell me I ain't the flyest nigga that you ever saw
Live in action, guaranteed raw

Who's coming through？ Y'all know who

Bed-Stuy Brooklyn where this rapper was originated
Your rhymes ain't shit, they must be constipated
Many awaited, the heavyset brother from Fulton Street
To drop a rhyme to a funky beat

Expellin' MC's as if I was at Sarah J
Or boys and girls at any school around the way
Opponents, pupils but I'm the principal
Hard to beat, damn near invincible

Niggaz wanna know how I live the mack life
Makin' money, smokin' mics like crack pipes
Flippin' bombs, stayin' calm, givin' my people my palm
And sayin' rhymes to set off the alarm

Yes, it's me, the BIG
Competition ripper ever since thirteen
Used to steal clothes, was considered a thief
Until I started hustlin' on Fulton Street

Makin' loot, knockin' boots on the regular
Pass the microphone, I'm the perfect competitor
Jewels and all that, my clothes is all that
Chumps steppin' to me, that's where they took a fall at

BIG without burner, that's unheard of
I stay close to mine like Tina on Turner
Quick to smother, a punk motherfucker
Undercover word to mother, I'm above ya

And I love ya 'cause you're a sweet bitch
A crazy crab, you might make my dick itch
I flow looser than Luther, words ya get used to
BIG is a born trooper like ice cream I scoop ya
My music you wanna get loose to, stay pimp and I'm not a booster

So what 'cha got to say？ This mackin' word is bond
There's no other assumption, I got it goin' on
I'm not conceited, my friends tell me this
Even my mother be noddin' her head to this

Makes her proud to see her one son get loud
Flip on a sucker and bow to the crowd
Drink a little Hennessy, smoke a blunt or two or three or four
Live in action, guaranteed raw

Round two, the rhyme regulator here to roast ya
As ya follow this, yeah I gave a toast to ya crew
See, they popped on ya like a kernel
You didn't realize that the beef was eternal

Internal injury, that's what you're soon to see
BIG keep company
Sometimes in my waist if they come opponent
Run upstairs, change my skimmer and my coat

And I'm floatin' to your punk part of town
Anybody frontin' they better duck down
Don't get mad 'cause I grazed ya
You jumped in that four-door Blazer

Quick, I couldn't get a good hit, shit I was aimin' for the
melon
But the kick of my three-pound auto there's no tellin'
Drink a little Hennessy, smoke a blunt or two or three or four
Live in action, guaranteed raw

And you don't stop and you don't stop
You keep on to my man Milk and Thai
Like I said before the whole OGB is in full effect
Most definitely, sent a shout on to the freestyle Born Allah
Yeah, that bum ass nigga from Avenue Q


113.Whatchu Want Freestyle

Uh!
Yeah!
Representin' Brooklyn...
Youkno'msayin'？
Puff Daddy, Uptown, Bad Boy!
Uh!

A repetitive loop - all I need to destroy
A soloist or group, haa! - I put to ya boy!
Hope you got the Scoop! - Biggie Smalls's, tha rap genius!
I keep tha Glock by the penis;
The cleanest cut! - Fuck sluts with the big humongous butts;
Haahh! - I use a rubber but!
My style is gushy like the hooker's pussy
And it don't take alota back-talk to push me,
Into flamin' 'em! - Like that lil' nigga Damien.
Glock-19 to my motherfuckin' cranium!
Game tight, gun totin' motherfucker!
Niggas in the grave thought Biggie was a sucker!
I tricked 'em! - I gave 'em work then I sticked 'em;
I stripped them! - Cause niggaz don't want the friction!
Told you before how I bring tha dra-ma!
Slam Larry Johnson and his grandma-ma! - Whatcha want nigga？

Uh!
Yo, little bit of flavor aiiight？ (YEAH!)
Uh, yeah! Uh!

Fuck around and feel the fury of a high nigga
When I get busy - throw your hands in the sky, nigga!
I got the illest of the ill mentality! - Niggas be grabbin' me!
Knowing that they'd rather be stabbin' me! (uhh!)
All up in my back tryna take my track
When I used to sell Crack, I ain't had problems like that!
STREET RULES! - Watch your pockets and your jewels! (whooo!)
A nigga front, throw the Gat to the fool!
Tears don't affect me! - I heard 'em with a Tec, G (woooaaahhh!)
Disrespect me. - My potency is deadly!
Want the venom, hits the Serah pal 'em
My necks get check - and my hand start swallin'
Keep the .9-millimeter by the peanut
The killa mothafucka don't a thing, feel swetheart!
Ooooooh, I remember I had hurt the bloodsworth
The robbery ain't worse, deserve!