Life After Death
Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: Ten Crack Commandments
(Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" Uhh, it's the ten crack commandments What, uhh, uhh Nigga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huh Can't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weed To my hustlin niggaz Niggaz on the corner I ain't forget you niggaz My triple beam niggaz, word up (Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "TEN" I been in this game for years, it made me a animal It's rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual A step by step booklet for you to get your game on track, not your wig pushed back Rule nombre uno: never let no one know how much, dough you hold, cause you know The cheddar breed jealousy 'specially if that man fucked up, get your ass stuck up Number two: never let em know your next move Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence or violence Take it from your highness (uh-huh) I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips Number three: never trust no-bo-dy Your moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed up Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck she be layin in the bushes to light that ass up Number four: know you heard this before Never get high, on your own supply Number five: never sell no crack where you rest at I don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounce Number six: that god damn credit, dead it You think a crackhead payin you back, shit forget it Seven: this rule is so underrated Keep your family and business completely seperated Money and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitch Find yourself in serious shit Number eight: never keep no weight on you Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs too Number nine shoulda been number one to me If you ain't gettin bags stay the fuck from police (uh-huh) If niggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listen They be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittin Number ten: a strong word called consignment Strictly for live men, not for freshmen If you ain't got the clientele say hell no Cause they gon want they money rain sleet hail snow Follow these rules you'll have mad bread to break up If not, twenty-four years, on the wake up Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up Caretaker did your makeup, when you pass Your girl fucked my man Jake up, heard in three weeks she sniffed a whole half of cake up Heard she suck a good dick, and can hook a steak up Gotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up, uhh Crack king, Frank Blizzard Uhh (Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "Ten"
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: I Got a Story to Tell
Who y'all talkin to man? Uhh Check it out, check it out This here goes out to all the niggaz that be fuckin mad bitches in other niggaz cribs thinkin shit is sweet Nigga creep up on your ass, hahaha Live niggaz respect it, check it I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya Even left all my motherfuckin hoes for ya Niggaz think Frankie pussy whipped, nigga picture that With a Kodak, Insta-ma-tak We don't get down like that, lay my game down quite flat Sweetness, where you parked at? Petiteness but that ass fat She got a body make a nigga wanna eat that, I'm fuck witchu The bitch official doe, dick harder than a missile yo Try to hit if she trippin dissapearin like Arsenio Yo, the bitch push a double-oh with the five in front, probably a connivin stunt Y'all drive in front, I'm a peel with her Find a deal with her, she fuck around and steal, huh? Then we all get laced Television's, Versacci heaven, when I'm up in em The shit she kicked, all the shit's legit She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks Nigga tricked ridiculous, the shit was plush She's stressin me to fuck, like she was in a rush We fucked in his bed, quite dangerous I'm in his ass while he playin gainst the Utah Jazz My 112, CD blast, I was past She came twice I came last, roll the grass She giggle, say I don't smoke it on homegrown Then I heard her moan, honey I'm home Yep, tote chrome for situations like this I'm up in his broad I know he won't like this Now I'm like bitch you better talk to him Before this fist put a spark to him Fuck around shit get dark to him, put a part through him Lose a major part to him, arm, leg She beggin me to stop but this cat gettin closer Gettin hot like a toaster, I cocks the toast, uhh Before my eyes could blink She screams out, "Honey bring me up somethin to drink!" He go back downstairs more time to think Her brain racin, she's tellin me to stay patient She don't know I'm, cool as a fan Gat in hand, I don't wanna blast her man But I can and I will doe, I probably chill doe Even though situation lookin kinda ill yo It came to me like a song I wrote Told the bitch gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face Roped the bitch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase Play the cut, nigga comin off some love potion shit Flash the heat on em, he stood emotionless Dropped the glass screamin, "Don't blast here's the stash, a hundred cash just don't shoot my ass, please!" Nigga pullin mad G's out the floor Put stacks in a Prater knapsack, hit the door Grab the keys to the five, call my niggaz on the cell Bring some weed I got a story to tell, uhh... Yo man, y'all niggaz ain't gonna believe what the fuck happened to me. Remember that bitch I left the club with man? Yo, freaky yo. I'm up in this bitch playa this bitch fuckin run them ol mink ass niggaz and shit, I'm up in the spot though. One of them six-five niggaz, I don't know. Anyway I'm up in the motherfuckin spot, so boom I'm up in the pussy, whatever whatever. I sparks up some lye, Pop Duke creeps up in on some, must have been rained out or something *laughing* because he's in the spot. Had me scared, had me scared, I was shook Daddy - but I forget I had my Roscoe on me. Always. You know how we do. So anyway the nigga comes up the stairs, he creepin up the steps, the bitch all shook she sends the nigga back downstairs to get some drinks and shit. She gettin mad nervous, I said fuck that man! I'm the nigga, you know how we do it nigga, ransom note style put the scarf around my motherfuckin face, gagged that bitch up, played the kizzack. Soon this nigga comes up in the spot, flash the Desert in his face he drops the glass. Looked like the nigga pissed on his-self or somethin, word to mother! Ahh fuckit this nigga runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet, start givin me mad papers, mad papers. (I told you that bitch was a shiesty bitch cuz! Word to mother I used to fuck her cousin but you ain't know that! Hahaha. You wouldn't know that shit. Really though.) I threw all that motherfuckin money up in the Prater knapsack. Two words, I'm gone! (No doubt, no doubt... no doubt!) Yo nigga got some lye, y'all got some lye? *conversation fades out*
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G. w/ Lil' Kim
Album: Life After Death
Song: Another
[Biggie] Yeah... fuck you [Lil Kim] Fuck you too! [B.I.G.] Fuck you bitch [Lil Kim] Fuck you motherfucker [B.I.G.] You ain't shit anyway, fuck you [Lil Kim] You ain't shit, you fat motherfucker [B.I.G.] Yeah, whatever whatever [Lil Kim] Whatevah [B.I.G.] You wasn't sayin that when you was suckin my dick [Lil Kim] You wasn't sayin that when you was eatin my bush! You a nasty motherfucker! [B.I.G.] Check it, uhh [Lil Kim] Crab ass
Chorus One: B.I.G. 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 Verse One: Notorious B.I.G. Uh-huh, uhh, uhh I know he don't treat you like I treat you Time to explain the game you see through Sex is lethal, I ain't gon lie Means to get ya back, I ain't gon try Like this ya'll, my girl sucked anotha nigga dick y'all Light skinned with the chrome die six y'all Thought they was creepin, two trips to V-A every third weekend While you was sleepin, he hit you on the box Sixty-nine go non-stop Shoulda left ya then, but my heart said not You knew too much, the relationship grew too much You knew about the crack vials, means to be trialed Way I hid dough under the bathroom towel Waited for a while, thought you was my right thing Then things got frightening Peep the scene, sorta like Sam Rosten Guess you ginger, huh, go figure Never thought you could be a gold digger Take my dough and spend with the next nigga Asked my man Trigga, my ace boom coon Told me cut the bitch off 'fore the shit balloon Now I'm like Brandy, Sittin In My Room Pissy drunk listenin to Stylistic tunes Or the O-Jays, thinkin bout the old days My nigga's like, fuck that bitch, go play Baller, did she beep you? Don't call her Guess who I seen, that freak bitch Paula She was askin bout ya whereabouts Here's the digits, I know you can wear that out Tear that out the frame, ya game so tight You'll be all fuckin night Chorus Two: Lil Kim 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 Verse Two: Lil Kim Mmm, uhhh, uhhh! Member when you said you would die for me, shit All of that was just lies to me Motherfucker shoulda never said bye to me Now you cry for me, like Jodeci It's like that y'all, my nigga hit another bitch from the back y'all Black nasty and matter fact ya'll Shoulda seen the hoe, nigga pack ya shit You out the door, ohh What about the fight in the Mirage? I seen ya Benz, parked outside my sister's garage Said it was ya friend Rog, bullshit I ain't gonna keep puttin up wit the bullshit And still I, never sweat these bitches Who be hanged like plaques on the wall and ya pictures Scalin fishes, my love is concrete Stashin ya heat in the passenger seat of the Nautica Jeep, we've been down for so long Still a bitch like me tryin to hold on Teary eyed, damn a bitch steamin Girls steady screamin, 'Kim you need to leave him!' When I testified in court, couldn't think straight thinkin bout the bitches I fought over you, nigga half the shit you bought And fuck you, movin is my last resort You see nine outta ten niggaz, ain't shit One outta five niggaz suck a dick Ya mad at me, too bad she ain't as bad as me Choulda kept the freak bitch off my canape Now you see, ain't no pussy warm as mine Long as mine, ain't no love as strong as this When I sucked ya dick, it's like smokin a roach Uhh, I go from first class to coach Chorus One, Chorus Two, Chorus One, Chorus Two
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: Going Back To Cali
*phone number being dialed* *phone rings three times* [Biggie] Yo! [P. Dad] Yo Big wake up wake up baby [Biggie] Mmm, yo... [P. Dad] Yo Big wake yo' ass up c'mon [Biggie] I'm up! I'm up. *mumbling* I'm up I'm up [P. Dad] Big, wake up! [Biggie] I'm up baby, what the fuck, man? What's up? [P. Dad] C'mon now it's a quarter to six we got the 7:30 flight [Biggie] Mmm, *mumbling* yeah [P. Dad] Yo Big Big, Big [Biggie] Yeah I hear you dogg, I hear you, alright, 7:30 [P. Dad] Yo take down this information [Biggie] Ain't no pen [P. Dad] Tell your girl then to remember it or somethin [Biggie] Aight honey, yeah write this down [P. Dad] Aight, ummm, flight five-oh-four [Biggie] Five-oh-four [P. Dad] Leaving Kennedy [Biggie] *mumbling* Kennedy [P. Dad] On the L-A-X [Biggie] Oh! Cali?? [P. Dad] No doubt baby, you know we gotta get this paper [Biggie] Ahh, no doubt, aight [P. Dad] You aight? [Biggie] I'm up, I'm up [P. Dad] Yo Big [Biggie] I'm UP man [P. Dad] Flight five-oh-four [Biggie] Alright 7:30 I'ma meet you at the airport [P. Dad] California [Biggie] Yeh *phone clicks* Verse One: Notorious B.I.G. When the lala hits ya lyrics just splits ya Head so hard, that ya hat can't fit ya Either I'm witcha or against ya Format venture, back through that maze I sent ya Talkin to the rap inventor Nigga wit the game tight, Bic that flame right Spell my name right, B-I, Double-G, I-E Iced out lights out, me and Ceasar Leo Gettin head from some chick he know See it's all about the cheddar, nobody do it better Going back to Cali, strictly for the weather Women, and the weed -- sticky green No seeds bitch please, Poppa ain't soft Dead up in the Hood, ain't no love lost Got me mixed up, you drunk them licks up Mad cause I got my dick sucked and my balls licked, forfeit, the game is mine I'ma spell my name one more time, check it Its the, N-O, T-O, R-I, O U-S, you just, lay down, slow Recognize a real Don when you see Juan/one Sippin on booze in the House of Blues Chorus: repeat 4X I'm going going, back back, to Cali Cali Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G. If I got to choose a coast I got to choose the East I live out there, so don't go there But that don't mean a nigga can't rest in the West See some nice breasts in the West Smoke some nice sess in the West, y'all niggaz is a mess Thinkin I'm gon stop, givin L.A. props All I got is beef with those that violate me I shall annihilate thee Case closed, suitcase filled with clothes Linens and things, I begin things People start to flash, 818's, 213's 313's, B.I.G. Frequently floss hoes at Roscoe's If I wanna squirt her, take her to Fatburger Spend about a week on Venice Beach Sippin Crist-o, with some freaks from Frisco Chorus Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G. Cali got gunplay, models on the runway Scream Biggie Biggie gimme One More Chance I be whippin on the freeway, the NYC way On the celly-celly with my homeboy Lance Pass hash from left to right Only got five blunts left to light, I'm set tonight Paid a visit to Versace stores Bet she suck until I ain't got no more, only in L.A. Bust on bitches be-lly, rub it in they tummy Lick it, say it's yummy, then fuck yo' man Fuck your plan, is it to rock the Tri-State? Almost gold, 5 G's at show gate Or do you wanna see about seven digits Fuck hoes exquisite, Cali, great place to visit Chorus Chorus Chorus: again to fade
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G. f/ DMC
Album: Life After Death
Song: My Downfall
*phone rings* *phone rings* [B.I.G.] Yo *heavy breathing* [B.I.G.] Sup hello? *heavy breathing* [B.I.G.] Faith? Motherfucker *click* *phone rings* [B.I.G.] Yo Kill you motherfucker (voice speaking to Biggie is whispering throughout) [B.I.G.] Hello? Kill you motherfucker [B.I.G.] *sarcastically* WORD? I'm gonna get you motherfucker you better watch your motherfuckin back That's my word nigga [B.I.G.] Get the fuck outta here Better watch your motherfuckin abck [B.I.G.] Watch my back? WORD? I'm gonna get Biggie, I'm gonna kill Biggie [B.I.G.] You soft dude, you soft Fuck all you niggaz, you all ain't SHIT Watch your motherfuckin back [B.I.G.] Eat a dick *click* Jealousy's a motherfucker, you weak jealous motherfuckers! If you a jealous motherfucker, you just a weak motherfucker! See when you on top, motherfuckers just wanna bring you down! Motherfuckers don't even know you, and they don't like you... [Notorious B.I.G.] Uhh, I dreams filthy My moms and pops mixed in with Jamaican Rum and Whiskey Huh, what a set up Shoulda pushed em dead off, wipe the sweat off Uhh, cause in this world I'm debtor, squeeze lead off Benz sped off, ain't no shook hands in Brook-land Army fatigue break up teams, the enemies Look man, you wanna see me locked up, shot up Moms crotched up over the casket, screamin BASTARD Cryin, know my friends is lyin Y'all know who killed im filled im with the lugars from they Rugers or they Desert, dyin ain't the shit but it's present Kinda quiet, watch my niggaz bring the riot
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G. f/ R. Kelly
Album: Life After Death
Song: Fuck You Tonight
[Big] Uhh [Dad] I like that, you like that? Heh [Big] Here's another one [Dad] And another one [Big] And another one [Dad] And another one [Big] Uhh, what, what? Intro/Chorus: R. Kelly, Biggie (variations on Big's part) You must be used to me spendin And all that sweet winin and dinin Well I'm fuckin you tonight [Big] Here's another one And another one Uhh, uhh, what? 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, tgue deliverin Chills up that spine, that ass is mine Skip the wine and the candlelight, no Cristal tonight If its alright with you, we fuckin (that's alright) Deja vu, the blunts sparked, finger fuckin in the park Pissy off Bacardi Dark Remember when I used to play between yo legs You begged for me to stop because you know where it would head Straight to yo mother's bed At the Mariott, we be lucky if we find a spot Next to yo sister, damn I really missed the way she used to rub my back, when I hit that Way she used to giggle when yo ass would wiggle Now I know you used to sweets at the Parker Meridian Trips to the Carribean, but tonight, no ends Chorus 2X Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G. Girl you look fine, like a windface Rolex, you just shine I like that waistline Let me hit that from behind, which wall you wanna climb My styles genuine, girl I love you long time I got you pinned up, with yo fuckin limbs up All because you like the way my Benz was rimmed up Bitch keep yo shin up, please watch me do thee Nasty, like it when you make it move fast mommy I like it when you tro' it pon me No love makin, strictly back breakin Ceas' know, all his hoes, go to my door Then they go to his flo', to fuck some more So no, caviar, sharp bar, uh uh Strictly sex that's pretty and left over spaghetti I know you used to slow CD's and Don P's But tonight its eight tracks and six-packs while I hit that Chorus 2X Verse Three: R. Kelly Lets stop the bullshit baby Let me take you to the stop, get you hot So you wanna be with me, Puff Daddy B.I.G., bring that ass to me Chorus: repeat to fade with variations
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: Somebody's Gotta Die
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 Honda station wagon Was braggin About how much loot and crack he stackin Rock had a grip so they formed up a clique Small crew 'Round the time I was locked up with you True indeed But yo nigga let me proceed Don't fill them clips too high Give them bullets room to breathe Damn where was I? Yeah One night in town Blew the fuck up D-Rock went home And Jay got stuck the fuck up Hit 'em twice Got 'em right for the virgin white Pistol whipped his kids And taped up his wife He said "Yo Rock, set em up", no question Wet em up no less Than 50 shots in his direction How many shots? Man nigga, I seen mad holes What kinda gats? Hitch links, Cocks, and Calicoles But fuck that I know where all them niggas rest at In the buildin hustlin And they don't be strapped Supreme in black Is downstairs, the engine runnin Find a bag to put the guns in And c'mon if yo comin Chorus Verse Three: Exchanged hugs and pounds before the throw down How its gonna go down Lay these niggas low-down Slow down Fuck all that plannin shit Run up in they cribs And make em catch the man n shit See niggas like you do ten year bids Miss the niggas they want And murder innocent kids Not I One niggas in my eye That's Jason Ain't no slugs gonna be wasted Revenge I'm tastin at the tip of my lips I can't wait to feel my clip in his hips Pass the chocolate Thai Sing ain't lie There's Jason with his back to me Talkin to his faculty I start to get a funny feelins Put the mask on in case his niggas start squealin Scream his name out Squeeze six knuckles shorter Nigga turned around holdin his daughter
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: Hypnotize
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 *fades*
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: B.I.G. Interlude
* to the beat of and styled after Schoolly D's "P.S.K. What Does it Mean?" Yo C-Gutta where you at? D Rockafella Caesar Leo Degenero Bled C Money SL Uhh... B.I.G. is making this cream Bitches always say what the hell does that mean? B is for the bitches, who can't understand How one fly nigga became a man I is for the way it goes in and out One by one I knocks em out G is for the way the game goes in the gutter Other MC's man they ain't sayin nuthin Rockin on, to the break of dawn Make the bitch give the pussy get the mouth I'm gone What? It ain't no more to it
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: Life After Death Intro
Previously, on Ready to Die *music fades in from "Suicidal Thoughts"* ... me and her sister had somethin goin on (Aiyyo, would you listen to me motherfucker?) I reach my peak, I can't speak Call my nigga Cheek, tell him that my will is weak (Aiyyo c'mon nigga, cut that) I'm sick of niggaz lyin, I'm sick of bitches hawkin (Aiyyo, yoyo Big, aiyyo chill) Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin *gunshot* *Life After Death piano and music comes in* (Aiyyo Big, aiyyo BIG!!) *heartbeat slows, sound of ambulence sirens* *piano plays on* *sound of pulse monitor and breathing machine* [Puff Daddy] Damn... we was spose to rule the world baby We was unstoppable! The shit can't be over, no The shit can't be over man I know you hear me nigga I know you hear me You got too much livin to do Too much unfinished business It ain't over *flatline* Live your life
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: Kick In The Door
Welcome back. *audience applauds* We're here on Bad Boy television, and I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper. And quite frankly -- he's very mad. We're gonna TRY to find out why; so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience. Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name, and where you're from. Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle and, I just don't understand, why you so mad. (yo, yo) Like what are you so mad about? (yo, yo, y-y-yo) You wanna know why, yo first of all, yo first of all you can't be askin me no question knowhatI'msayin who the fuck is you? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper.) YouknowhatI'msayin? You can't be askin me no question (It's a family oriented show.) I'ma tell you why I'm mad, youknowhatI'msayin? I'ma tell you why I'm mad. I'ma tell you why I'm mad. These niggaz is makin five hundred thousand dollar videos, yunusayin? They drivin around in hot cars, yunusayin? They got bitches, they got all that shit. (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language.) YouknowhatI'msayin? I'm still livin with my MOMS, youknowhatI'msayin? That's my word. Yunusayin? I'm makin records I ain't made no money yet I done made this is my fourth album yo, this my FOURTH ALBUM. I ain't made a dime yet. This nigga made one album, he makin wild records. That Ready to Die shit, it was aight, it was aight, yunumsayin, that shit was aight, it was cool. But my shit is more John Blaze than that! I got John Blaze shit. And they not recognizing, they not sayin I recognize. And fuck is that, who is you to be askin me questions, youknowhatI'msayin? Who is you? *Mad Rapper fades out* [cut and scratched "I gots to talk. I gotta tell what I feel. I gotta talk about my life as I see it!"] Intro: repeat 2X ('Biggie' repeats every line of beat) This goes out to you This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you Verse One: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan Its that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White in tank-light totes, tote iron Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin Keep extra clips for extra shit Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap The mo shady, "Tell em!", Frankie baby Ain't no tellin where I may be May see me in D.C. at Howard Homecomin with my man Capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin You should know my steelo Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show to orgies with hoes I never seen befo' so, Jesus, get off the Notorious penis, before I squeeze and bust If the beef between us, we can settle it With the chrome and metal shit I make it hot, like a kettle get You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya? You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure Biggie, "How are you gonna do it?" Chorus: repeat 4X Kick in the door, wavin the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more Verse Two: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death Should I start your breath should I let you die In fear you start to cry, ask why Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick You cursed it, but rehearsed it I drop unexpectedly like bird shit You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them Son, I'm surprised you run with them I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click Take trips to Cairo, layin with yo bitch I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick When I see ya I'ma Chorus Verse Three: This goes out for those that choose to use Disrespectful views on the King of NY Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye Now ya Braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson Tote steel like Bronson, vigilante You wanna get on son, you need to ask me Ain't no other king in this rap thing They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren One shot, they disappearin Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit Took home, Ready to Die, listened, studied shit Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly make the white shake, thats why my money never funny And you still recoupin, stupid *echoes*
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G. f/ The Lox
Album: Life After Death
Song: Last Day
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 Lox and B-I, hold our grica down for years Gang not, but we been had our black tears Niggaz under the stairs only understand what we got Underground, all above must get shot You couldn't book me Dano, see Luciano put the burners to all y'all, what nigga bring it I'm callin y'all You already know what it's about when I run up in your house Put the gun up in your mouth and get the money out the couch Hearin you out is senseless, perhaps for instance I give this faggot a french kiss Black gloves, no prints, dark tints Word on the street they ain't heard from him since You know about life after kicked the kid in Since me and my mi-dan can flip seven gri-dams Scri-dam the flow is forbidd-en Either you ridin or you dyin cause we swingin iron Lox and Poppa, turning niggaz into Jim Hoffa Who gon stop us, it's your last joint double copper You gettin money or your runnin from the Feds Ain't nothin over here but sixteen and one in the head And I solemnly swear That all y'all niggaz out there got a problem this year 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
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: Long Kiss Goodnight
CHORUS TIME, TIME FOR YOU TA DIE AS I KISS--YO--ASS--GOODNIGHT I make yo mouthpiece obese like delawese When I release, you loose teeth like Little Cease Nigga please Blood floods yo dungarees And that's just a half of 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 wit no dough, tried ta play me at my show I pull out 4-4's, and go up in they clothes Short-change niggas snort-cane niggas extortion came quicker Bought the Range' nigga Ya still tickle me I used ta be as strong as ripple, till Little Cease crippled me Now I play hard-like my girls nipples be The games sour like like a pickle be Ya'll know da rules Move from BK ta New Jerus Thinkin bout, all the planes we flew Bitches, we ran through Now da years new I lay my game flat I want my spot back, take two Muthafuckas mad cuz I blew, niggas envious Too many niggas on my dick, shit's strenuous When my men bust, you just move wit such stamina Slugs missed ya I ain't mad at'chya (we ain't mad at'chya) Blood rushin, concussions, ain't nothing Catch canes, come out frontin Smokin something Sippin White Russians, bitch in the Benz bumpin I laced it wit the basic 6 TV's, a system, knockin Mase shit, face it We hard ta hit Guard ya shit, for I stick you, for ya re-up Wipe the "???P???" Mix shots, "???work ya seat up???" Go in the ashtray, spark the weed up LONG KISS CHORUS X 2 UH-I flamin gats, aimin at, these fuckin... Maniacs put my name in raps--"???support them???" Games dat Like they hustle backwards I smoke backwards, and Duchees Ya can't touch me Try ta rush me Slugs go, touchy-touchy Ya bleedin lovely, wit'chyo, spirit above me or beneath me, ya whole life ya live sneaky Now ya rest eternally, sleepy, ya burn when ya creep me Rest where the worms-n-the weak be My nine flies, baptize, rap guys Wit the holy ghost I put holes in most, you hold ya toast shakey Slip-n-tryin ta break me Look what'chyou made me do, brains blue My team in the Marine blew, six-coupe Skiid it out, weeded out, clean it out The block for distance is, given long kisses bitch CHORUS X 2 Frank White the menacin, craw-craw's demenacin I got the lettuce in 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 Hug from fake friends Make ends they hate'chyou, be broke girls won't date'chyou That's why I relate to, choke yo ass till ya face blue, make you Open the safe too No matter how ya call it(how ya call it) This "???bralick???",alcoholic Like his weed green'd out like his brick solid Distribute to kids who, take heart like Valentine, drink Valentine, all the time Slugs hit'chya chest tap the spine Flat-line Heard through the grapevine, ya got fucked foe times Damn that three ta nine, fucked you up for real doe' "???Slink steal slow???" As you remorse we feel no CHORUS X 6
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: Miss U
[Notorious B.I.G.] 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 why you're gone and thru Verse One: Notorious B.I.G. I remember sellin three bricks of straight flour Got my man a beat down to the third power He didn't care, spent the money in a half hour Got some fishscale, ain't no competition that could sour Got the coke cooked up, a crackhead heaven In eighty-eight, when Kane ruled, with Half Steppin A thirty-eight, a lot of mouth, was our only weapon We was king till the G's crept in And now I'm missin em Chorus: Ooh, I'm missin you Tell me why the road turns, why it turns Ooh, I'm missin you Nah nah nah nah nah, oh tell me why why why why Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G. We work all week, we dancin, play the movies We rock flatops, our girls rocked doobies Made a killin, even though the D's knew me Eventually, you know they try to do me Fuck it Fed up, my nigga want to take it down south Sick of cops comin, sick of throwin jacks in his mouth Gave him half my paper, told 'em go that route Few months, he got his brain blown out Now I'm stressed His baby's mother, she trippin, blamin me And his older brothers, understand, the game it be Kinda topsy turvy You win some, you lose some Damn, they lost a brother They mother lost a son Fuck, why my nigga couldn't stay in NY? I'm a thug, but I swear for three days I cried I look in the sky and ask God why Can't look his baby girls in the eye Damn I miss you Chorus Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G. There was this girl around the way that make cats drool Her name's Drew, played fools out they money in pool People swore we was 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 Chorus
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G. f/ Mase, Puff Daddy
Album: Life After Death
Song: Mo Money Mo Problems *
* this is the definitive version, no more corrections are being accepted Verse One: Mase Now, who's hot who not Tell me who rock who sell out in the stores You tell me who flopped who copped the blue drop Who jewels got robbed who's mostly Goldie down to the tube sock, the same ol pimp Mase, you know ain't nuttin change but my limp Can't stop till I see my name on a blimp Guarantee a million sales pullin all the love You don't believe in Harlem World nigga double up We don't play around it's a bet lay it down nigga didn't know me ninety-one bet they know me now I'm the young Harlem nigga with the Goldie sound Can't no Ph.D. niggaz hold me down, Cooter schooled me to the game, now I know my duty Stay humble stay low blow like Hootie True pimp niggaz spend no dough on the booty And then ya yell there go Mase there go your cutie *singers come in over this last line* I don't know what, they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see (repeat 2X) Verse Two: Puff Daddy Yeah yeah, ahaha, from the C-to-the-A-to-the-D-D-Y know you'd rather see me die than to see me fly I call all the shots Rip all the spots, rock all the rocks Cop all the drops, I know you thinkin now's when all the ballin stops, nigga never home gotta call me on the yacht Ten years from now we'll still be on top Yo, I thought I told you that we won't stop Now whatcha gonna do when it's cool bag a money much longer than yours and a team much stronger than yours, violate me this'll be your day, we don't play Mess around be D.O.A., be on your way Cause it ain't enough time here, ain't enough lime here for you to shine here, deal with many women but treat dimes fair, and I'm bigger than the city lights down in Times Square Yeah, yeah yeah I don't know what, they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see (repeat 2X) Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G. Uhh, uhhh B.I.G., P-O, P-P-A No info, for the, DEA Federal agents mad cause I'm flagrant Tap my cell, and the phone in the basement My team supreme, stay clean Triple beam lyrical dream, I be that cat you see at all events bent Gats in holsters girls on shoulders Playboy, I told ya, bein mice to me Bruise too much, I lose, too much Step on stage the girls boo too much I guess it's cause you run with lame dudes too much Me lose my touch, never that If I did, ain't no problem to get the gat Where the true players at? Throw your Rollies in the sky Wave em side to side and keep your hands high While I give your girl the eye, player please Lyrically, niggaz see, B.I.G. be flossin jig on the cover of Fortune Five double oh, here's my phone number Your man ain't got to know, I got to go Got the flow down pizat, platinum plus Like thizat, dangerous on trizack, leave your ass blizzack I don't know what, they want from me It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see (repeat 3X) 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 (repeat 3X to fade)
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: Nasty Boy
[Notorious B.I.G. conversating with someone] Yeahh, worrd I remember I met this one bitch Cause you know me I don't see how I'm the nasty motherfucker I just thought I thought I'da did anything in the world (yeh?) I meets this one bitch, I comes up in the spot, or whatever The bitch got the candles lit or whatever, so She tell me whatever she wanna get her freak on whatever So I'm like WHASSUP whatchu wanna yaknahmsayin I'm read to wear it out or whatever (kssss) The bitch told me she wanted me to shit on her! (*laughing*) Ya know shit I was like whatchu mean shit? I mean I might shit on you after I, hit it I won't call you no more Shit on you like that (*more laughing*) She talkin about no she want me to cock over her And shit, on her stomach! (*laughing through his teeth*) I said bitch what the, what the fuck?? What the fuck I'm sposed to do after I after I shit on her I'm sposed to hit that after that? She's just wilding out so after I shits on the bitch right (*both start laughing*) Ya know I shit, after I shits on the bitch The bitch, ya know, washed that shit off or whatever (Ohhh shit!) [Puff Daddy] Come on, yeah (repeat 10X) Uhh, I go, on and on and on and then take her to the crib and let your bone in Easy, call em on the phone and platinum Chanel cologne and I stay, dressed, to impress Spark these bitches interest Sex is all I expect if they watch TV in the Lex, they know They know, quarter past fo' Left the club tipsy, say no mo' except how I'm gettin home, tomorrow Caesar drop you off when he see his P.O., uhh Back of my mind I hope she swallow (uh-huh) Man She split a drink on my cream Wallows Reach the gate, hungry just ate Riffin, she got to be to work by eight This must mean she ain't tryin to wait Conversate, sex on the first date I state "You know what you do to me" She starts, "Well but I don't usually" then I, whipped it out, rubber no doubt Step out, show me what you all about Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse Pull your G-string down South, aoowww Threw that back out, in the parking lot By a Cherokee and a green drop-top And I don't stop, until I screw Jeans skirt butt-naked it all work I remember we, went to Tennessee Then we came home, mad messages was on my phone Bitch named Symone Screamin, she feenin, for the semen Me bein, the man that I am Took it to her condo, pronto Half indian, called her Tonto Roll the kronk ton in the dark pronto Few buzz, I got load and off to the bedroom we go *mmmmmm* Sex is drama, head to trauma Rip pajamas I'ma stay to tomorrow Satisfyin all my needs twice With the whipped cream, handcuffs and ice The bitch is nice, word is bond Can't wait to put my niggaz on, what, what? Ladies, my Mercedes Hold fo' in the back, two if it's fat Keep a gat, cause cats, try to test me They just fans like DeNiro, Wesley Let's see, the bitch I'm waitin on Gaudy years teens look like they painted on Ask thee, leave it up to me Lay her on back ever so gently She like the way the dope fold up, Rolls roll up Cristal just throw up, bitch grow up Hold up, there's DeGenero Dripped out, iceberg Capero Intro goes without speaking Call me Caese cause I keep em, we can go freakin all weekend, so, roll in Ain't it good that my Lex keeps foldin? Uhh
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: You're Nobody (Til Somebody Kills You)
[Puff Daddy] Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil -- for you are with me Your rod and your staff, they comfort me You prepare a table for me, in the presence of my enemies You annoint my head with oil, my cup overflows Surely goodness and love will follow me -- all the days of my life And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever [Notorious B.I.G.] Niggaz in my faction so black 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 kites Run up in your crib, wrap you up in your pillow 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 if they fall draw There's my pilot, he steals my liv, gets my div Shit's official, only, the Feds I fear Here's a tissue, stop your blood clot cryin The kids to Don, everybody buyin -- no lyin So don't you get suspicious I'm Big Dangerous you're just a Lil Vicious As I leave my competition, with sporated style Climb the ladder to success escalator style Hold y'all breath, I told y'all -- death controls y'all, Big don't fold y'all, uhh I spit phrases that'll thrill you You're nobody til somebody kills you *chorus* You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) Uhh, uhh Watch Casino, I'm the hip-hop version of Nicky Tarantino Ask Nino, he know Green with envy, the green tempts me to make the richest enemy, and take their cheese Take their spots, take their keys, make my faculty live happily, ever after in laughter Hah, never seen Cristal pour faster And to those bastards, knuckleheads squeeze lead Three of mine dead, nuttin left to do but tear they ass to shreds, leave em in bloodshed Incidents like this I take trips Lay up in Miami with Tamika and Tammy (huh) Some Creole C-O bitches I met on tour Push a peach Legend Coupe, gold teeth galore Told me meet em in the future later, they'll take me shoppin buy me lavender and fuschia Gators Introduce me to playa haters and heavy weighters Rich bitch shit, drinkin Cristal til they piss the shit, uhh Thorough bitches, death to any borough bitches Be in spots where they were no bitches, you feel me Reminesce on dead friends too You're nobody til somebody kills you *chorus* 2X Uhh, uhh You can 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 (I remember that) Silly cat, more sway than the rain Sways with the G'n game, had the country framed before Dana Dane, thought he ran with Kane I can't recall his name, wasn't he that kid that nearly lost half his brain over two grams of cocaine? Gettin his dick sucked by Crackhead Corainne A puff of shame, dude's the lame, what's his name? Darkskin Jermaine, see what I mean? *chorus* 2X (fades)
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: Niggas Bleed
Verse One: Today's agenda, got the suitcase up in the Sentra Go to room 112, tell em Blanco sent ya Feel the strangest, if no money exchanges I got these kids in ranges, believe them niggaz 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 yo 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, yo 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 thirty-three-eighties 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, thats 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 Chorus: Niggaz bleed just like us Picture me bein scared of a nigga that breathe the same air as me Niggaz bleed just like us Picture me bein shook We can both pull burners, make the motherfuckin beef cook Niggaz bleed just like us Picture a nigga high Then my life in that man hands, while he just decidin Niggaz bleed just like us I'd rather go toe to toe with all of y'all Runnin ain't in my protocol Verse Two: 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 Jooks 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 Heavy in the game, embedded in his brain And me I feel the same for this money and diamonds Specially if my daughter cryin, I ain't lyin Y'all know the signs Chorus Verse Three: We agreed to go on shootin is silly Because niggaz could be hidin in showers with Mac Billy's So I freaked em, the telly manager was Puerto Rican Gloria, from Historia, I went to war with her peeps in ninety-one, stole a gun from her workers And they took drugs, they tried to jerk us We blaze they place, long story, Glo seen 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 niggaz bleed Nightmare, this bitch don't need it Ron, get the gasoline, this spot, we bout to blow this Lets 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 pass me kerosene Fuck it, its flame-able, 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 Spin-t around, shot the chink in the breast She cryin, headshots put her to rest Pop open the briefcases, nothin but Franco faces The spot's hot, sprinklers, alarm systems Thats when other guests start to slip in It's time for us to get to dippin I know them niggaz in the Range is on they way up Flippin, pistol grippin, I know they clippin 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
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Life After Death
Song: Playa Hater
Good evening And for my last hit I'd like to take you back to the classic A-hem, B.I.G. style of course Uhh *singing* Playaahh, turn your head round Lay on the ground, you've been robbed Wake up, open the door Lay on the floor, you've been robbed Uhh You know, we need this money And you, yes baby, you, should just roll with me Let's go off, together On this robbin spree, we'll make money Uhh Playaahh, turn your head round Take off that crown, you've been robbed Wake up, open the door Don't cry no more, you've been robbed You see, there are two kind of people in the world today We have, the playaz, and we have, the playa haters Please don't hate me because I'm beautiful baby Hear what they talk, about me But my crew so deep, you can't do, a damn thing, to me Playahh, open the door Lay on the floor, you've been robbed Wake up (wake your ass up), take off your jewels You fuckin fools, you've been robbed (this is a robbery nigga) Playahh playahh (hater), Playahh playahh (hater) Playahh playahh (hater), Playahh playahh (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Playahh hater!! (hater) Uhh, thank you... thank you very much *applause* Thank you thank you far too kind, far too kind Thank you, thank you very much Good night everybody, good night! I love all of you, thank you thank you Thank you, thank you very much Good night!
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Artist: Notorious B.I.G. f/ 112
Album: Life After Death
Song: Sky's the Limit
[Notorious B.I.G.] Good evenin ladies and gentlemen How's everybody doin tonite? I'd like to welcome to the stage, the lyrically acclaimed, ha I like this young man, because, when he came out he came out wit the phrase, he went from ashy to classy Ha, I like that So everybody in the house, give a warm, round of applause for The Notorious B.I.G. *clapping* The Notorious B.I.G. ladies and gentlemen give it up for him ya'll Uhhh A nigga never been as broke as me, I like that When I was young I had two pair of Lees, besides that The pin stripes and the gray (uh-huh) The one I wore on Mondays and Wednesdays While niggas flirt, I'm sewing tigers on my shirt and alligators Ya wanna see the inside, huh, I see ya later Here come the drama, oh, that's that nigga wit the fake, blaow! Why you punch me in my face, stay in ya place Play ya position, here come my intuition Go in this nigga pocket Rob him while his friends watchin That hoes clockin, here comes respect His crew's your crew, or they might be next Look at they man eye, BIG man they never try So we roll wid em, stole wid em I mean loyalty, niggaz bought me milks at lunch The milks was chocolate, the cookies, buttercrunch In here, eyes crossed from blue and white dust Pass the blunt [112] Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want [Notorious B.I.G.] Uh-huh, I was a shame, my crew was lame I have enough heart for most of em Long as I got stuff from most of em It's on, even when I was wrong I got my point across They depicted me the boss, of course My orange box-cutter make the world go round Plus I'm fuckin, bitches ain't my homegirls now Start stackin, dabbled in crack, gun packin Nickname Medina, make the seniors tote my ninas From gym class, to Englass, pass off a global The only nigga wit a mobile, Can't You See like Total Gettin larger in waist and taste Ain't no tellin where this felon is headin, just in case Keep a shell at the tip of ya melon, clear da space Ya brain was a terrible thing ta waste Eighty-eight long gates, snatch initial name plates Smokin spliffs wit niggaz, real life beginner killers Prayin God forgive us for being sinners, help us out [112] Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want [Notorious B.I.G.] After realizin, to master enterprisin I ain't have ta be in school by ten, I was in Began to encounter, wit my counter-parts I holla burn the block apart, break it down into sections Drugs by the selection Some use pipes, others use in-jec-tions Syringe sold seperately, Frank the deputy Quick to grab my Smith-n-Wessun, like my dick was missin To protect my position, my corner, my layer While we out here, say the hustlas prayer If the game shakes me or breaks me I hope it makes me a better man Take a better stand Put money in my moms hand Get my daughter this college plan, so she don't need no man Stay far from timid Only make moves when ya heart's in it And live the phrase Sky's The Limit Motherfucker... see you chumps on top [112] Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want ... Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want...
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