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Tracks 1-5
*music fades in from "Suicidal Thoughts"*
... me and her sister had somethin goin on
(Aiyyo, would you listen to me motherfucker?)
I reach my peak, I can't speak
Call my nigga Cheek, tell him that my will is weak
(Aiyyo c'mon nigga, cut that)
I'm sick of niggaz lyin, I'm sick of bitches hawkin
(Aiyyo, yoyo Big, aiyyo chill)
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin *gunshot*
*Life After Death piano and music comes in*
(Aiyyo Big, aiyyo BIG!!)
*heartbeat slows, sound of ambulence sirens*
*piano plays on*
*sound of pulse monitor and breathing machine*
[Puff Daddy]
Damn... we was spose to rule the world baby
We was unstoppable!
The shit can't be over, no
The shit can't be over man
I know you hear me nigga
I know you hear me
You got too much livin to do
Too much unfinished business
It ain't over
*flatline*
Live your life
Verse One:
I'm sittin in the crib dreamin about Leer jets and coupes
The way Salt shoops and how they sell records like Snoop
Oops!
I'm interrupted by a doorbell
3:52, who the hell
Is this?
I gets up quick
Cocks my shit
Stop the dogs from barkin
Then proceed to walkin
Its a face that I seen before
My nigga Sing, we used to sling on the 16th floor
Check it
I look deeper
I see blood up on his sneakers
And his fist gripped a chrome four-fifth
So I dip
Nigga, is you creepin or speakin?
He tells me C-Rock just got hit up at the beacon
I opens up the door, pitiful
Is he in critical?
Retaliation for this one won't be minimal
Cuz I'm a criminal
Way before the rap shit
Bust the gat shit
Puff won't even know what happened,
If it's done smoothly
Silencers on the Uzi
Stash in the hooptie
My alibi, any cutie
With a booty that done fuck the Pop
Head spinnin, reminiscin bout my man C-Rock
Chorus: repeat 2X
Somebody's got ta die
If I got, you got ta go
Somebody's got to die
Let the gunshots blow
Somebody's got to die
Nobody got ta know
That I killed yo ass in the mist, kid
Verse Two:
Fillin clips he explained our situation
Precisely, so we know exactly what we facin
Some kid named Jason
In a highway station, raggin
Was braggin
About how much loot and crack he stackin
Rock had a grip so they formed up a clique
Small crew
'Round the time I was locked up with you
True indeed
But yo nigga let me proceed
Don't fill them clips too high
Give them bullets room to breathe
Damn where was I?
Yeah
One night in town
Blew the fuck up
D-Rock went home
And Jay got stuck the fuck up
Hit 'em twice
Got 'em right for the virgin white
Pistol whipped his kids
And taped up his wife
He said "Yo Rock, set em up", no question
Wet em up no less
Than 50 shots in his direction
How many shots?
Man nigga, I seen mad holes
What kinda gats?
Hitch links, Cocks, and Calicoles
But fuck that
I know where all them niggas rest at
In the buildin hustlin
And they don't be strapped
Supreme in black
Is downstairs, the engine runnin
Find a bag to put the guns in
And c'mon if yo comin
Chorus
Verse Three:
Exchanged hugs and pounds before the throw down
How its gonna go down
Lay these niggas low-down
Slow down
Fuck all that plannin shit
Run up in they cribs
And make em catch the man n shit
See niggas like you do ten year bids
Miss the niggas they want
And murder innocent kids
Not I
One niggas in my eye
That's Jason
Ain't no slugs gonna be wasted
Revenge I'm tastin at the tip of my lips
I can't wait to feel my clip in his hips
Pass the chocolate
Thai
Sing ain't lie
There's Jason with his back to me
Talkin to his faculty
I start to get a funny feelins
Put the mask on in case his niggas start squealin
Scream his name out
Squeeze six knuckles shorter
Nigga turned around holdin his daughter
Uhhh, uhhh, uh, c'mon
Verse One:
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 they head right, Biggie there Air Nike
Poppa been smooth since days of Underroos
Never lose, never choose to, bruise crews who
do something to us, talk go through us
Girls walk to us, wanna do us, screw us
Who us? Yeah, Poppa and Puff (ehehehe)
Close like Starsky and Hutch, stick the clutch
Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M-3
(Take that, take that, take that, haha!)
Bang every MC easily, busily
Recently niggaz frontin ain't sayin nuttin (nope)
So I just speak my piece, (c'mon) keep my piece
Cubans with the Jesus piece (thank you God), with my peeps
Packin, askin who want it, you got it nigga flaunt it
That Brooklyn bullshit, we on it
Chorus: sung in imitation of part of Slick Rick's "La-Di-Da-Di"
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (hah)
Verse Two:
I put hoes in NY onto DKNY (uh-huh)
Miami, D.C. prefer Versace (that's right)
All Philly hoes, dough and Moschino (c'mon)
Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi (haaaaah!)
Now who's the real dookie, meanin who's really the shit
Them niggaz ride dicks, Frank White push the sticks
on the Lexus, LX, four and a half
Bulletproof glass tints if I want some ass
Gon' blast squeeze first ask questions last
That's how most of these so-called gangsters pass
At last, a nigga rappin bout blunts and broads
Tits and bras, menage-a-tois, sex in expensive cars
I still leave you on the pavement
Condo paid for, no car payment
At my arraignment, note for the plantiff
Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement (shhh)
Face it, not guilty, that's how I stay filthy (not guilty)
Richer than Richie, till you niggaz come and get me
Chorus:
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (huh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Verse Three:
I can fill ya wit real millionaire shit (I can fill ya)
Escargot, my car go, one sixty, swiftly
Wreck it buy a new one
Your crew run run run, your crew run run
I know you sick of this, name brand nigga wit
flows girls say he's sweet like licorice
So get with this nigga, it's easy
Girlfriend here's a pen, call me round ten
Come through, have sex on rugs that's Persian (that's right)
Come up to your job, hit you while you workin (uhh)
for certain, Poppa freakin, not speakin
Leave that ass leakin, like rapper demo
Tell them hoe, take they clothes off slowly
Hit em wit the force like Obe, dick black like Toby (Obe... Toby)
Watch me roam like Gobe, lucky they don't owe me
Where the safe show me, homey.. (say what, homey)
Chorus:
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh)
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to)
And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh)
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)
Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see
Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your flashy ways
Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid
Intro: repeat 2X
This goes out to you
This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you
Verse One:
Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns
As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons
Get in that ass, quick fast, like Romma-Don
Its that rap phenomenon
Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa
You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White
In tank-light totes, tote eyein
Was told in shootout
Stay low, and keep firin
Keep extra clips for extra shit
Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rack
The mo shady, cranky baby
Ain't no tellin where I may be
May see me in DC at Howard Homes
Comin, with my man Capone, Dummin, fuckin somethin
You should know my stilo
Went from 10 G's for blow to 30 Gs a show
To orgies with hoes I never seen before
So, Jesus, get off the Notorious
Plead us before I squeeze and bust
If theres beef between us
We can settle it
With that chrome-metal shit
I make it hot, like a kettle get
You're delicate, you better get
Who sent ya?
You're still peddle shit
I got more rides than Great Adventure
Biggie
Chorus: repeat 4X
Kick in the door wavin the four-four
All you heard was poppa don't hit no more
Verse Two:
On ya mark, get set
when I spark, ya wet
Look how dark it get
When ya marked with death
Should I start ya breath
Or should I let you die
In fear you start to cry, ask why
Lyrically, I'm worser
Don't front the word sick
You cursed it, but rehearsed it
I drop unexpectedly like bird shit
You perps get, stuck quickly for raw tease 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
Man I smoke hydro rock diamonds, thats sick
Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own clique
Take trips to Cairo, layin with yo bitch
I know you prayin you was rich
Fuckin prick
When I see ya I'ma
Chorus
Verse Three:
This goes out to those that choose to use
Disrespectful view on the King of NY
Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in ya eye
Now ya Braille'in it, stash that light shit
Or scalin it
Conscience of ya nonsense in 88,
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 maturin, one shot, they disappearin
Its ill when, MC's used to be on crazy shit
Took home, Ready To Die, listen, study shit
Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue
They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly
Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny
And you still recoupin, stupid
Intro/Chorus: R. Kelly
You must be used to me spendin
And all that sweet winin and dinin
Well I'm fuckin you tonight
Verse One: Notorious B.I.G.
Some say the x
Make the sex
Spec-tacular
Make me lick you from yo neck
To yo back, then ya
Shiverin
Tongue deliverin
Chills up that spine
That ass is mine
Skip the wine and the candlelight
No Chrystile tonight
If its alright with you, we fuckin
(Thas fine)
Deja Vu, the blunts sparked
Finger fuckin in the park
Busy 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 sweets at the Parker Meridian
Trips to the Caribbean
But tonight, no ends
Chorus 2X
Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.
Damn you look fine
Like a wineface Rolex, you just shine
I like that waistline
Let me hit that from behind
Which wall you wanna climb
My styles genuine
Girl I love you long time
I got you pinned up
With yo fuckin limbs up
Or because you like the way my Benz was rimmed up
Bitch keep yo shins 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 (throw it up on me, jamaican stlye)
No love makin, strictly back breakin
Cees know, all his hoes, go to my door
Then they go to his floor
To fuck some more
Solo, Caviar, Shock Bar, uh uh
Strictly sex thas pretty
And left over spaghetti
I know you used to slow CDs
And Don P's
But tonight its 8-tracks
And six packs while I hit that
Chorus 2X
Verse Three: R. Kelly
Lets stop the bullshit baby
Let me take the stop
Get you hot
Say you wanna be with me
The Puff Daddy
The B.I.G.
Bring that ass to me
Intro/Chorus: The Lox
Can I live til my last day
Hittin honies that be na-sty
Gettin money in the fast way
And I only care halfway
But I still can't let you pass me
[The Lox]
Yo what's beef to you, three niggaz with hoodies and bats
That ain't shit compared to one small cat with gats
When we came here we cut off all kind circulation
Breathin, eatin, the whole situation
When we do our shit we do our shit for real
While you take your money for your deal and make your own beats
Compose your own sheets, that's aight but chill
I'ma spend that mil and cop only hot shit
Rock top shit you know how The Lox get
Then you can see me flyin in the Bentley cockpit
Life's a B-I, hold I cliqua down for years
Gang not, but we been had our black tears
Niggaz under the stairs only understand what we got
Underground, all above must get shot
You couldn't book me Dano, see Luciano put the burners
to all y'all, what nigga bring it I'm callin y'all
You already know what it's about when I run up in your house
Put the gun up in your mouth and get the money out the couch
Hearin you out is senseless, perhaps for instance
I give this faggot a french kiss
Black gloves, no prints, dark tints
Word on the street they ain't heard from him since
You know about life after kicked the kid in
Since me and my mi-dan can flip seven gri-dams
Scri-dam the flow is forbidd-en
Either you ridin or you dyin cause we swingin iron
Lox and Poppa, turning niggaz into Jim Hoffa
Who gon stop us, it's your last joint double copper
You gettin money or your runnin from the Feds
Ain't nothin over here but sixteen and one in the head
And I solemnly swear
That all y'all niggaz out there got a problem this year
Chorus: repeat 2X
[The Lox]
Before you think of keepin me down, heatin me down
The flow like water get deepe and you drown
with no soul, many niggaz roll with no dough
Even the small Dunn got a little black hole
Your destiny is somethin you can never figure out
Niggaz is never happy til there's blood up in your mouth
There's a lot of killers, but who the hell are you to play in this?
A lot are dead, how the hell you take the pain?
Live with it got money you better get with it
My man had the thug in him did his bid with it
Get married to the game but never have a kid with it
Advice from the wise, slice the pies
Too many schemes divides, when dreams collide
Teams provide, war for the street to absorb
Stashed in the ceiling and you slept on the floor
Only a blind dove'll fall in love with a whore
[Notorious B.I.G.]
Uhh, uhh, uhh
Who the fuck wanna squeeze?
My Desert Ease make MC's freeze
You wakin up in cold sweats, they just dreams
You still apoligizin, analyzin, my size and your size and
realizin, a fist fight would be asinine
You just pop wines I must pop nines
Genuine steel piece, nozzle in your grill piece
You're shook up, two bricks, every cook up
We can hook up, all I see is the future
Disrespect, I shoot ya
By the way, them bricks, get flipped weekly
Sold by soldiers that mix weed with the leak leak
Die for a dollar nigga, life ain't sweet
Play for keeps wet shirts with experts on the creep
I be the mob fiance, about to marry it
Illegal transactions in Farragut with Arabics
Why not, they fit twelve up in the bedroom
Imagine what they stash is like, make you a classic like
my first LP, beef with me is unhealthy
Fuck around and get an ul-cer, loose your pulse or
collapsed lung, look how many gats I brung
For them homos, still doin promos
Break both your legs you're movin slow-mo, got shined to glow mo'
Nine hundred and ninety six grams, you need for mo'
Chorus: repeat til fade