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1:31 | 
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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1:31 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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1:31 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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5:46 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997) | |||||
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3:26 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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- |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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3:26 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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4:12 | 
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from Jay-Z - The Blueprint 2 : The Gift & The Curse (2002)
It was all a dream
{*scratched simultaneously: "It was all a dream" - B.I.G.*} Last night I had a dream Thoughts was racin through my head (it was all a dream) Felt so real to me This is what was said.. Had a dream I said, bout who he said? Bout B.I.G. I said, that's big he said Dig he said, proceed he said Indeed I said, so - breathe I did Don't repeat what I say I said, he said nothin He agreed with his head, he just nodded like this What I believe to be a yes I re-peated what was said It came to me like a .. well as even I said "You feel playboy," was the greeting he said First thing I wanted to know, what's the reason he was dead? "More money, more problems, better believe it," he said "Careful what you wish for you might receive it," he said I see I said, jealousy I said Got the whole industry mad at me I said Then B.I. said, "Hov' remind yourself nobody built like you, you designed yourself" I agree I said, my one of a kind self Get stoned every day like Jesus did What he said, I said, has been said before "Just keep doin your thing," he said, say no more *Was it all a dream - tell me Was it all a dream, was it a dream Was it all a dre-eeee-eeeee-eeam I gotta know {*"It was all a dream"*} Was it all a dream - was it a dream Was it all a dream, a dream Was it all a dre-eeee-eeeee-eeam It was all a dream, I used to read Word Up magazine Salt'n'Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine Hangin pictures on my wall Every Saturday, "Rap Attack," Mr. Magic, Marley Marl I let my tape rock 'til my tape popped Smokin weed and bamboo, sippin on private stock Way back, when I had the red and black lumberjack with the hat to match Remember Rappin' Duke? "Duh-ha, duh-ha" You never thought that hip-hop would take it this far Now I'm in the limelight cause I rhyme tight Time to get paid, blow up like the {**"World Trade"**} Born sinner, the opposite of a winner Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner Peace to Ron G, Brucey B, Kid Capri Funkmaster Flex, Lovebug Starsky I'm blowin up like you thought I would Call the crib, same number same hood, it's all good Uhh, and if you don't know, now you know, nigga *repeat {*"It was all a dream"*} {*"It was all.."*} {*"It was all.. a dream"*} {*"It was all a dream"*} {*"It was all.. a dream"*} {*"It was all.."*} {*"It was all.. a dream"*} I see I said, jealousy I said Got the whole industry mad at me I said Then B.I. said, "Hov' remind yourself nobody built like you, you designed yourself" I agree I said, my one of a kind self Get stoned every day like Jesus did What he said, I said, has been said before "Just keep doin your thing," he said, say no more |
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4:15 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Yeah... fuck you
Fuck you too! Fuck you bitch Fuck you motherfucker You ain't shit anyway, fuck you You ain't shit, you fat motherfucker Yeah, whatever whatever Whatevah You wasn't sayin that when you was suckin my dick You wasn't sayin that when you was eatin my pussy! You a nasty motherfucker! Check it, uhh Crab ass *What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue? You cut that hooker off and find someone new I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life Uh-huh, uhh, uhh I know he don't treat you like I treat you Time to explain your game is see-through Sex is lethal, I ain't gon' lie Means to get ya back, I ain't gon' try Like this y'all, my girl sucked anotha nigga dick y'all Light skinned with the chromed out six y'all Thought they was creepin, took trips to V-A every third weekend While you was sleepin, he hit you on the box Sixty-nine code non-stop Shoulda left ya then, but my heart said not You knew too much, the relationship grew too much You knew about the crack vials, means to be trialed Way I hid dough under the bathroom tile Waited for a while, thought you was my right thing Then things got frightening Peep the scene, sorta like Sam Rothstein Guess you Ginger, huh, go figure Never thought you could be a gold digger Take my dough and spend with the next nigga Asked my man Trigga, my ace boom coon Told me cut the bitch off 'fore the shit balloon Now I'm like Brandy, "Sittin in My Room" Pissy drunk listenin to Stylistic tunes Or the O'Jays, thinkin bout the old days My nigga's like, "Fuck that bitch, go play Baller, did she beep you? Don't call her Guess who I seen, that freak bitch Paula She was askin bout ya whereabouts Here's the digits, I know you can wear that out Tear that out the frame, ya game so tight You'll be all fuckin night" **What do ya do when your man is untrue? Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new? I need another man, in my life Mmm, uhhh, uhhh! Member when you said you would die for me, shit All of that was just lies to me Motherfucker shoulda never said bye to me Now you cry for me, like Jodeci It's like that y'all, my nigga hit another bitch from the back y'all Black nasty and mad fat y'all; shoulda seen the hoe Nigga pack ya shit, tou out the do', ohh What about the fight in the Mirage? I seen ya Benz, parked outside my sister's garage Said it was ya friend Rog, bullshit I ain't gonna keep puttin up wit the bullshit And still I, never sweat these bitches who be hanged like plaques on the wall and ya pictures Scalin fishes, my love is concrete Stashin ya heat in the passenger seat of the Nautica Jeep, we've been down for so long Still a bitch like me tryin to hold on Teary eyed, damn a bitch steamin Girls steady screamin, "Kim you need to leave him!" When I testified in court Couldn't think straight thinkin bout the bitches I fought over you, nigga half the shit you bought And fuck you, movin is my last resort You see nine outta ten niggaz, ain't shit One outta five niggaz suck a dick Ya mad at me, too bad she ain't as bad as me Choulda kept the freak bitch off my canape Now you see, ain't no pussy warm as mine Long as mine, ain't no love as strong as this When I sucked ya dick, it's like smokin a roach Uhh, why go from first class to coach? *Repeat **Repeat *Repeat **Repeat |
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4:15 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
<P>Yeah... fuck you
Fuck you too! Fuck you bitch Fuck you motherfucker You ain't shit anyway, fuck you You ain't shit, you fat motherfucker Yeah, whatever whatever Whatevah You wasn't sayin that when you was suckin my dick You wasn't sayin that when you was eatin my bush! You a nasty motherfucker! Check it, uhh Crab ass </P><P>What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue? You cut that hooker off and find someone new I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life </P><P>Uh-huh, uhh, uhh I know he don't treat you like I treat you Time to explain the game you see through Sex is lethal, I ain't gon lie Means to get ya back, I ain't gon try Like this ya'll, my girl sucked anotha nigga dick y'all Light skinned with the chrome die six y'all Thought they was creepin, two trips to V-A every third weekend While you was sleepin, he hit you on the box Sixty-nine go non-stop Shoulda left ya then, but my heart said not You knew too much, the relationship grew too much You knew about the crack vials, means to be trialed Way I hid dough under the bathroom towel Waited for a while, thought you was my right thing Then things got frightening Peep the scene, sorta like Sam Rosten Guess you ginger, huh, go figure Never thought you could be a gold digger Take my dough and spend with the next nigga Asked my man Trigga, my ace boom coon Told me cut the bitch off 'fore the shit balloon Now I'm like Brandy, Sittin In My Room Pissy drunk listenin to Stylistic tunes Or the O-Jays, thinkin bout the old days My nigga's like, fuck that bitch, go play Baller, did she beep you? Don't call her Guess who I seen, that freak bitch Paula She was askin bout ya whereabouts Here's the digits, I know you can wear that out Tear that out the frame, ya game so tight You'll be all fuckin night </P><P>What do ya do when your man is untrue? Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new? I need another man, in my life </P><P>Mmm, uhhh, uhhh! Member when you said you would die for me, shit All of that was just lies to me Motherfucker shoulda never said bye to me Now you cry for me, like Jodeci It's like that y'all, my nigga hit another bitch from the back y'all Black nasty and matter fact ya'll Shoulda seen the hoe, nigga pack ya shit You out the door, ohh What about the fight in the Mirage? I seen ya Benz, parked outside my sister's garage Said it was ya friend Rog, bullshit I ain't gonna keep puttin up wit the bullshit And still I, never sweat these bitches Who be hanged like plaques on the wall and ya pictures Scalin fishes, my love is concrete Stashin ya heat in the passenger seat of the Nautica Jeep, we've been down for so long Still a bitch like me tryin to hold on Teary eyed, damn a bitch steamin Girls steady screamin, 'Kim you need to leave him!' When I testified in court, couldn't think straight thinkin bout the bitches I fought over you, nigga half the shit you bought And fuck you, movin is my last resort You see nine outta ten niggaz, ain't shit One outta five niggaz suck a dick Ya mad at me, too bad she ain't as bad as me Choulda kept the freak bitch off my canape Now you see, ain't no pussy warm as mine Long as mine, ain't no love as strong as this When I sucked ya dick, it's like smokin a roach Uhh, I go from first class to coach </P><P>What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue? You cut that hooker off and find someone new I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life </P><P>What do ya do when your man is untrue? Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new? I need another man, in my life </P><P>What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue? You cut that hooker off and find someone new I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life </P><P>What do ya do when your man is untrue? Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new? I need another man, in my life </P> |
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4:23 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
<P>Yeah... fuck you
Fuck you too! Fuck you bitch Fuck you motherfucker You ain't shit anyway, fuck you You ain't shit, you fat motherfucker Yeah, whatever whatever Whatevah You wasn't sayin that when you was suckin my dick You wasn't sayin that when you was eatin my bush! You a nasty motherfucker! Check it, uhh Crab ass </P><P>What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue? You cut that hooker off and find someone new I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life </P><P>Uh-huh, uhh, uhh I know he don't treat you like I treat you Time to explain the game you see through Sex is lethal, I ain't gon lie Means to get ya back, I ain't gon try Like this ya'll, my girl sucked anotha nigga dick y'all Light skinned with the chrome die six y'all Thought they was creepin, two trips to V-A every third weekend While you was sleepin, he hit you on the box Sixty-nine go non-stop Shoulda left ya then, but my heart said not You knew too much, the relationship grew too much You knew about the crack vials, means to be trialed Way I hid dough under the bathroom towel Waited for a while, thought you was my right thing Then things got frightening Peep the scene, sorta like Sam Rosten Guess you ginger, huh, go figure Never thought you could be a gold digger Take my dough and spend with the next nigga Asked my man Trigga, my ace boom coon Told me cut the bitch off 'fore the shit balloon Now I'm like Brandy, Sittin In My Room Pissy drunk listenin to Stylistic tunes Or the O-Jays, thinkin bout the old days My nigga's like, fuck that bitch, go play Baller, did she beep you? Don't call her Guess who I seen, that freak bitch Paula She was askin bout ya whereabouts Here's the digits, I know you can wear that out Tear that out the frame, ya game so tight You'll be all fuckin night </P><P>What do ya do when your man is untrue? Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new? I need another man, in my life </P><P>Mmm, uhhh, uhhh! Member when you said you would die for me, shit All of that was just lies to me Motherfucker shoulda never said bye to me Now you cry for me, like Jodeci It's like that y'all, my nigga hit another bitch from the back y'all Black nasty and matter fact ya'll Shoulda seen the hoe, nigga pack ya shit You out the door, ohh What about the fight in the Mirage? I seen ya Benz, parked outside my sister's garage Said it was ya friend Rog, bullshit I ain't gonna keep puttin up wit the bullshit And still I, never sweat these bitches Who be hanged like plaques on the wall and ya pictures Scalin fishes, my love is concrete Stashin ya heat in the passenger seat of the Nautica Jeep, we've been down for so long Still a bitch like me tryin to hold on Teary eyed, damn a bitch steamin Girls steady screamin, 'Kim you need to leave him!' When I testified in court, couldn't think straight thinkin bout the bitches I fought over you, nigga half the shit you bought And fuck you, movin is my last resort You see nine outta ten niggaz, ain't shit One outta five niggaz suck a dick Ya mad at me, too bad she ain't as bad as me Choulda kept the freak bitch off my canape Now you see, ain't no pussy warm as mine Long as mine, ain't no love as strong as this When I sucked ya dick, it's like smokin a roach Uhh, I go from first class to coach </P><P>What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue? You cut that hooker off and find someone new I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life </P><P>What do ya do when your man is untrue? Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new? I need another man, in my life </P><P>What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue? You cut that hooker off and find someone new I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life </P><P>What do ya do when your man is untrue? Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new? I need another man, in my life </P> |
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0:48 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997) | |||||
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0:48 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997) | |||||
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0:48 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Yo
C-Gutta where you at? D Rockafella Caesar Leo Degenero Bled C Money SL Uhh... B.I.G. is making this cream Bitches always say what the hell does that mean? B is for the bitches, who can't understand How one fly nigga became a man I is for the way it goes in and out One by one I knocks em out G is for the way the game goes in the gutter Other MC's man they ain't sayin nuthin Rockin on, to the break of dawn Make the bitch give the pussy get the mouth I'm gone What? It ain't no more to it |
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1:23 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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- |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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1:23 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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4:57 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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- |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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4:57 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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3:28 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Too $hort] Beeotch! Talk about these hoes Big.. [Notorious
B.I.G.] I got a bitch that suck my dick til I nut Spit it on my gut and slurp that shit back up Ain't that a slut (HELL YEA) she even take it in the butt Fuck for bout a hour, now she want a golden shower You didn't know that we be pissin on hoes, bitch (BEOTCH) Luke and Biggie straight shittin on hoes, bitch (BEOTCH) Lick your toes, bitch? (BEOTCH) Fuck no, you must be crazy Squirt in your face and then I'm Swayze (bitch) Recognize G, straight up, I can't knock ya After Big Poppa, fuck ALL of Junior M.A.F.I.A. The whole clique, dick sucked, ass licked Leave your number by the phone, bring yo' ass on home I roam in Lexuses and Benzes, the fly way With the flyest bitch gettin head on the highway (ridin) My way deep throat on Luke's boat When the moon rises, I'm cumin in her eyes-es (do it) Just the way players play Leave it up to me, I get fucked all day (yeah) Sucked all day, smokin blunts, countin cheese Fucking bitches til they assholes bleed What you say ba-by Chorus: Too $hort, Biggie (repeat 2X) [$hort] All I want is hoes, big booty hoes [B.I.G] Check it out, here's another one [$hort] All I want is hoes, big booty hoes "Don't take em to the crib unless they bonin" [Notorious B.I.G.] Uhh.. uhh.. Biggie bag bitches from barbecues to barmitzvah's The dick don't fit, use your lips cause.. (use em) I'm feelin kinda itchy for a quickie Don't take off your coat, all you got to do is lick me Me eat you, I beat you, then greet you to the door bitch Cause I don't love you no more Which one of these hoes in the lobby wanna slob me You know me, I like my dick Brown like Bobby Jim Duke shoot, then the bitch get the boot unless she lick ass and blow dicks like flutes I like em cute, round tits and fat asses Educated, so I can bust off on they glasses I wanna cum on your tongue and gums, all night The bitch drink nuts by the pint [Too $hort] Drink it bitch! All of these hoes do that shit Chorus [Too $hort] It's after midnight, it's time to come up Fuckin with some sluts tryin to bust a nut I ain't seen this many hoes in a long time I wanna make em all mine (get down hoe) but it's gettin kinda late, and I cain't wait Bitch fuck a first date I pulled out my dick, she called me rude.. .. but then she ate it like food (tramp) Then she noticed the limp and the whip Recognize game, you've been pimped by a pimp Throw all that trick shit, out the window You come up short tryin to doubt the pimp hoe Too $hort baby, straight from Oakland Hoe money is my fix and I can't be broken Freak bitches all on my dick We on some Brooklyn - Oakland, California shit (beotch!) Chorus [Too $hort] You knew I was a dog when you met me bitch (BITCH) Ha ha, fo' sho' (YEAHH) Tell you anything you wanna hear right about now To the spot, that's where we goin baby See we goin to the spot Do our thang like we always do You ain't know? |
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4:13 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
To all the ladies in the place with style and grace Allow me to lace these lyrical duches in your bushes Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies The back of the club, sippin Moet, is where you'll find me The back of the club, mackin hoes, my crew's behind me Mad question askin, blunt passin, music blastin But I just can't quit Cause one of these honies Biggie gots ta creep with Sleep with, keep the ep a secret why not Why blow up my spot cause we both got hot Now check it, I got more Mack than Craig and in the bed Believe me sweety I got enough to feed the needy No need to be greedy I got mad friends with Benz's C-notes by the layers, true fuckin players Jump in the Rover and come over tell your friends jump in the GS3, I got the chronic by the tree [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee Straight up honey really I'm askin Most of these niggaz think they be mackin but they be actin Who they attractin with that line, 'What's your name what's your sign' Soon as he buy that wine I just creep up from behind And ask what your interests are, who you be with Things to make you smile, what numbers to dial You gon' be here for a while, I'm gon' go call my crew You go call your crew We can rendezvous at the bar around two Plans to leave, throw the keys to Lil Cease Pull the truck up, front, and roll up the next blunt So we can steam on the way to the telly go fill my belly A t-bone steak, cheese eggs and Welch's grape Conversate for a few, cause in a few, we gon' do What we came to do, ain't that right boo [truuuueee] Forget the telly we just go to the crib and watch a movie in the jacuzzi smoke l's while you do me [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee [How ya livin Biggie Smallz] In mansion and Benz's Givin ends to my friends and it feels stupendous Tremendous cream, fuck a dollar and a dream Still tote gats strapped with infrared beams Choppin o's, smokin live optimo's Money hoes and clothes all a nigga knows A foolish pleasure, whatever I had to find the buried treasure, so grams I had to measure However living better now, Gucci sweater now Drop top BM's I'm the man girlfriend [Honey check it Tell your friends, to get with my friends And we can be friends Shit we can do this every weekend Aight? Is that aight with you? Yeah... keep bangin] [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee
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4:10 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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4:13 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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4:11 |
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from Hardball (하드볼) by Mark Isham [ost] (2001)
To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
Allow me to lace these lyrical duches in your bushes Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies The back of the club, sippin Moet, is where you'll find me The back of the club, mackin hoes, my crew's behind me Mad question askin, blunt passin, music blastin But I just can't quit Cause one of these honies Biggie gots ta creep with Sleep with, keep the ep a secret why not Why blow up my spot cause we both got hot Now check it, I got more Mack than Craig and in the bed Believe me sweety I got enough to feed the needy No need to be greedy I got mad friends with Benz's C-notes by the layers, true fuckin players Jump in the Rover and come over tell your friends jump in the GS3, I got the chronic by the tree [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee Straight up honey really I'm askin Most of these niggaz think they be mackin but they be actin Who they attractin with that line, "What's your name what's your sign" Soon as he buy that wine I just creep up from behind And ask what your interests are, who you be with Things to make you smile, what numbers to dial You gon' be here for a while, I'm gon' go call my crew You go call your crew We can rendezvous at the bar around two Plans to leave, throw the keys to Lil Cease Pull the truck up, front, and roll up the next blunt So we can steam on the way to the telly go fill my belly A t-bone steak, cheese eggs and Welch's grape Conversate for a few, cause in a few, we gon' do What we came to do, ain't that right boo [truuuueee] Forget the telly we just go to the crib and watch a movie in the jacuzzi smoke l's while you do me [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee [How ya livin Biggie Smallz] In mansion and Benz's Givin ends to my friends and it feels stupendous Tremendous cream, fuck a dollar and a dream Still tote gats strapped with infrared beams Choppin o's, smokin live optimo's Money hoes and clothes all a nigga knows A foolish pleasure, whatever I had to find the buried treasure, so grams I had to measure However living better now, Gucci sweater now Drop top BM's I'm the man girlfriend [Honey check it Tell your friends, to get with my friends And we can be friends Shit we can do this every weekend Aight? Is that aight with you? Yeah... keep bangin] [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee |
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5:22 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Lil' Cease] Queen Bee, and Notorious B.I.G. nigga The best
that ever lived, the best that ever did it The best that ever lived it Cocksuckers, What's his name, huh? That's how we do it ya'll To all my niggaz in the house Bad Boy, Who we die for All day, everyday nigga [Verse 1] For the love of BIG, we bang out Since my man died, we don't hang out We blow brains out, we tear the club up pullin things out Mafia World, all my niggaz max out We Bad Boys, why ya'll niggaz cracked out Coward niggaz, most are burried down south Far from gangstas, really hush puppies Niggaz bearly speak when we discuss money Niggaz stay yappin when there's always somethin funny The realest niggaz never took nuthin from me Rock ice, stay jig, fuck with niggaz that got drunk, and hate kids Got niggaz on state bids, that hate movies like Rosewood and Matrix A yo, Biggie taught me well, Biggie told me how to flip bricks like cartwheel Chorus: Lil' Cease & Notorious B.I.G. [Lil' Cease] To all my thugs who puffed him To all my girls who hugged him You love him, yell his name.. I'd rather die on my feet, than live on my knees Nigga please, I cock and squeeze for.. Mafia [Notorious B.I.G.] Representin Bucktown Mack 11's cocked back, niggaz better duck down Face down, you know the routine, the cream Earings, you know the drama Biggie bring [Verse 2] For BIG I learn to grip aim and cock it Once I got it, I lock it Banger, big city boy with deep pockets See me speak, that paper better be the topic I like my ice frozen like the Antartic I'm quick to finish it, your good to start it And with the flashy colors on, you just a target, Waitin for a hard hit I like marine blue, marine green, roll with a mean team Meshed out, fresh out, and stay greams We big boys, we do big things, born in this county of kings I ain't got shit, I spread things, take things Fuck whenever my mood swings, from the summer for the winter to the spring My nigga ill's holdin it down for the beam Like BIG said, we do the real things, we still bubble and steal chains Still tustle, still struggle, we feel pain Still ride, still die for BIG's name (chorus) [Verse 3] For BIG I grip the cig, put six in your wig Not cause of what he said, cause of what he did When I hear that pop quiz, that's the way I was raised and thats the way it is for.. We roll like the Panthers, show our guns on camera Do jokes with police scanners, niggaz mediocre, full of dirt like hampers I roll with a bunch of niggaz that wear bandanas and rep... We kept it thurough, from the heart ripped the barrel B.K. style, see BIG howl, now Lets see who, wanna go against Mafia world Niggaz nuthin but squirels, they know we rep... Niggaz tryin to get a nut, hit in the head or below the gut Wood style roll'em up, get plucked, nigga what Go back to spend a ton, and know cats wit gold tooths Know my gat and bust for my nigga... (chorus) [Lil' Kim] Now when I cock back and squeeze, my Desert E'z Make you drop to your knees, barly able to breathe My bullets move in threes, one for Brook-lyn One for Mafia so take that, Uh, and this one's for... You know Frank kept me iced out Mink dragon, seven figures in my bank account All that material shit, ya'll still tryin to get it Uh, you fuckin pricks, get off his dick tryin to be like... All ya'll lame ass niggas keep my man name out your mouth Or get this shit right, check it, it's the B-I, double G-I, E Ya'll niggaz can't see Poppa, nor the Big Moma Who you love... for the Y2G, the two ten We got it sewn, we don't need ya'll help, we hold our own Cause this goes out to cats not tryin to give it up BIG missin us, shout him out... (chorus) (chorus into fade) |
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11:27 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997) | |||||
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1:28 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
B.I.G. interview intro)
Ten years from now, where do I want to be? I wanne be...just livin man, just living comfortably with my niggas man in a pool and shit, smoking plenty indo you know i'm saying? I got my wife, just lounging with my wife you know i'm saying? with my daughter, her daughter, you know just laid back, just chillin, you know i'm saying? living all my niggas is living where I think I be? ten years I don't think I will see it for real dog for real man, that shit ain't promised man I don't think my luck is that good, I hope it is but if it ain't, so be it, I'm ready (your dead wrong) [Erie B.I.G.chant] [Repeat til fade out] The weaker the strong, you got it going on, your dead wrong.... |
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4:37 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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4:37 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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from Jay-Z - Reasonable Doubt (1996)
[Pain In Da Ass]
[*gunshots*] OKAY, I'M RELOADED!!! You motherfuckers, think you big time? Fuckin with Jay-Z, you gon' die, big time! Here come the "Pain"! [*gunshots*] [Jay-Z] Jigga... (Jigga), Bigga... (Bigga) Nigga, how you figure... (how you figure) Yeah, yeah, yeah, aiyyo Peep the style and the way the cops sweat us (uh-huh) The number one question is can the Feds get us (uh-huh) I got vendettas in dice games against ass betters (uh-huh) and niggaz who pump wheels and drive Jettas Take that witcha.. [Notorious B.I.G.] .. hit ya, back split ya Fuck fist fights and lame scuffles Pillow case to your face, make the shell muffle Shoot your daughter in the calf muscle Fuck a tussle, nickel-plated Sprinkle coke on the floor, make it drug related Most hate it.. [Jay-Z] .. can't fade it While y'all pump Willie, I run up in stunts silly Scared, so you sent your little mans to come kill me But on the contrilli, I packs the mack-milli Squeezed off on him, left them paramedics breathin soft on him What's ya name? [Notorious B.I.G.] .. Who shot ya? Mob ties like Sinatra Peruvians tried to do me in, I ain't paid them yet Tryin to push 700's, they ain't made them yet Rolex and bracelets is frostbit; rings too Niggaz 'round the way call me Igloo Stix (Who?) Motherfucker! [Chorus] Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers (Where you from?) Brooklyn, goin out for all Marcy - that's right - you don't stop Bed-Stuy.. you won't stop, nigga! [Jay-Z] What, what, what? Jay-Z, Big' Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers Brooklyn represent y'all, hit you fold You crazy, think your little bit of rhymes can play me? I'm from Marcy, I'm varsity, chump, you're JV (Jigga) Jay-Z [Notorious B.I.G.] .. and Bigga baby! My Bed-Stuy flow's malicious, delicious Fuck three wishes, made my road to riches from 62's, gem stars, my moms dishes Gram choppin, police van dockin D's at my doors knockin [Jay-Z] What? Keep rockin No more, Mister, Nice Guy, I twist your shit the fuck back with them pistols, blazin Hot like cajun Hotter than even holdin work at the Days Inn with New York plates outside Get up outta there, fuck your ride [Notorious B.I.G.] Keep your hands high, shit gets steeper Here comes the Grim Reaper, Frank Wright Leave the keys to your In-tegra (That's right) Chill homie, the bitch in the Shoney's told me You're holdin more drugs than a pharmacy, you ain't harmin me So pardon me, pass the safe, before I blaze the place and here's six shots just in case (Brooklyn... Brooklyn... Brooklyn...) [Chorus] Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers (Where you from?) Brooklyn goin out to all (Crown Heights...) You don't stop (Brownsville...) You won't stop, nigga! (Brooklyn... Brooklyn... Brooklyn...) Hah hah! Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers (Where we from?) Brooklyn goin out to all (Bushwick...) You don't stop (Fort Greene...) You won't stop, niggaz! [Jay-Z] Yeah, yeah, yeah For nine six, the only MC with a flu Yeah I rhyme sick, I be what you're tryin to do Made a fortune off Peru, extradite, china white heron Nigga please, like short sleeves I bear arms Stay out my way from here on (CLEAR?) Gone! [Notoriuos B.I.G.] Me and Gutter had two spots The two for five dollar hits, the blue tops Gotta go, Coolio mean it's gettin "Too Hot" If Fay' had twins, she'd probably have two-Pac's Get it? .. Tu-pac's [Jay-Z] Time to separate the pros from the cons The platinum from the bronze That butter soft shit from that leather on the Fonz A S1 diamond from a eye class don A Cham' Dom' sipper from a Rosay nigga, huh?! Brook-Nam, sippin on [Notorious B.I.G.] Cristal forever, play the crib when it's mink weather The M.A.F.I.A. keep canons in they Marc Buchanans Usually cuatro cinco, the shell sink slow, tossin ya Mad slugs through your Nautica, I'm warnin ya (Hah, what the fuck?) [Chorus] Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers (Where you from?) Brooklyn goin out to all (Flatbush...) You don't stop (Redhook...) You won't stop, nigga! (Brooklyn... Brooklyn... Brooklyn...) Jay-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit ya drawers (Where you from?) Brooklyn goin out to all (East New York...) You don't stop (Clinton Hill...) You won't stop, nigga! {*"Is Brooklyn in the house?"*} [Outro] Uhh, Roc-A-Fella, y'all, Junior M.A.F.I.A. Superbad click, Brook-lyn's Finest, you re-wind this Represetin BK to the fullest |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Big] Huh? [Cee] Cease-a-Lee' [Big] Doggytyle.. YEAH! [Cee]
B.I.G. [Big] Uhh.. to all the ladies in the house! [Cee] Where they at? [Big] Uhh, uhh, check it out [Cee] C'mon Big [Notorious B.I.G] Another day in the ghetto One look outside I'm already upset yo It look about a hundred-and-two It's a Saturday and Biggie ain't got nuttin to do Uhh, I'm intrrupted by a phone ring {*brrrrring*} Sometimes I wish I never got the motherfuckin thing "Hello hello? Can I speak to Biggie?" Yo who dis? "Taisha" Yo call back, I'm busy Why don'tcha hit me on the box a little later Washed up, got dressed, hits the elevator Steps out it's the same old scene Dopefiend, crackfiend, eyewitness news team I seen a honey with a butt lookin butter soft I know she looks much better with them clothes up off Sittin all thick, with the ruby red lipstick {*SMACK*} That's the one I gotta get with Chorus One: Biggie Smalls Can I get wit'cha, can I get wit'cha Can I get wit'cha, can I get wit'cha "Why you wanna get with me?" Cause you got a big B-U-T, T, see Can I get wit'cha, can I get wit'cha Can I get wit'cha, can I get wit'cha "Why you wanna get with me?" Cause you got a big B-U-T, T [Notorious B.I.G] She said "If I get witchu I gotta get witcha whole hood rat crew Whatcha I think I do? Sling skins for a livin My name ain't November, this ain't Thanksgivin You aint Michael Bivins Mack it up flip it, rub it down Do me baby, I ain't down My name ain't Tupac I don't "Get Around" You hittin this nigga, how that sound?" Huh, first of all you got me mixed up with Somebody ya done slept with, hold up That's my Neneh Cherry shit, I got somethin slicker Let me just sip up on this liquor All I wanna do is smoke a little chronic Slam ya like Onyx, and get ya hooked on this Biggie Smalls phonics, 102 How to squeeze 22's in them Reeboks shoes, HUH? Chorus Two: Biggie Smalls and Lil' Cease Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) Can I get wit'cha.. Cause I got a big B-U- T, T, see Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) "Why you wanna get with me?" Cause you got a big B-U-T, T [Notorious B.I.G] I said walk me upstairs, cause I forgot my Phillies She said "I don't care, just dont be actin silly" I knew I had her trapped with my hardcore rap And it wouldn't take a second 'fore I had her on her back Foolin with the bra strap, threw on my Silk cd cause, "I wanna get freaky wit'chou" Lose control on the skins is all I can picture Now I'm about to hitcha Chorus Three: Biggie Smalls and Lil' Cease Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) Can I get wit'cha (can I get wit'cha) "Why you wanna get with me?" Cause you got a big B-U-T, T [Lil' Cease] Uhh.. Lil' Cease.. yo, yo, yo To all my hoes, respect due Tamika sorry I left you Michelle I'm glad I met you You make the head feel special Now I know it's official That I can touch and tease you Pull up my pants and diss you And hit the door you came through Its Cease-a-Lee, a.k.a. Mista Nasty Germany style, these hoes they blast me One of the chickenhead with sex appeal pass me That's her hands, ankles, feet they ashy I like the flashy type, who pass with dykes With long hair, and they ass be right I get up on that ass, see what that be like I fuck a bitch good, if she ask me right, huh Chorus One (repeat 2X) |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Notorious B.I.G.] Nigga was motherfuckin HYPED UP Nigga just
grabbed the nigga, snuffed the nigga and it was on from there The motherfucker there wasn't nuttin stoppin him (What what did the rest of his niggaz do?) Man the motherfuckers was just ready for anything Them niggaz was packin burners Them niggaz was ready to fight whatever we had to do holmes Niggaz was on the real flipout holmes It was just comin out like a motherfucker The nigga amped be like COME ON, COME ON MOTHERFUCKER!! Chorus: repeat 8X Come on motherfuckers, come on [samples play over second half of chorus] "Man what you fuck doin over here?" "Are you awake now?" "Hell yah I'm awake man; now tell me what the fuck is goin on here" "Looks like the competition stopped by to pay us a little visit, and check us out" [Sadat X] Let's go deep into the phrase, beautiful sunrays off the baldhead, everything is real Biggie me put on this joint so I'ma be the big wheel Watch it Slim, hey Dad, place yo' bet on seven Peace to one-oh-six, one-oh-eight, one- to-the-hundred-eleventh Hey Biggie, I understand you're from Brooklyn with 22's in your shoes, yo keep the shank ready [Notorious B.I.G.] Uhhh well, why not blow up the spot with Sadat Release the BRAINSTORM, to make your motherfuckin BRAIN WARM A strange form, somethin kind of lyrical Biggie the bastard, Sadat's kind of spiritual Well "In God We Trust", guns I bust Got that disgustin, sewer style dumpin and that uhh {*singin*} do you knowwwwww, where you're goin to Do you like the things that I bring? {*rappin*} Make an emcee wanna sing for a livin Take the beatdown we fuckin givin, c'mon motherfucker Chorus [Sadat X] What? Niggaz want drama, puttin work on my block when I told y'all last week, that shit was too hot Sellin pieces and treys, cuts my dimes Somebody gon' get paid, somebody block get sprayed Reaction is delayed as y'all run down the block Caught one in your chest, your breath come in spurts Hey yo Biggie tell these niggaz I'ma hit em where it hurts The big city it don't spare no bodies Call me papichulo, to all the spanish mamis I'm about ten blunts down, drank three or fo' stouts Seen five fat asses, passed this bitch with glasses Hey yo money that's yo' stock, yo Bigs pass the glock I'ma tell him it can happen, don't play me with that rap shit Life is real, so Biggie take the steel Chorus [Notorious B.I.G.] Uhh I got seven Mac-11's, about eight, .38's Nine 9's, ten Mac-10's, the shits never end You can't touch my riches Even if you had MC Hammer and them 357 bitches Biggie Smalls, the millionaire, the mansion, the yacht The two weed spots, the two hot glocks HAH, that's how I got the weed spot I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the landspread Lil' Gotti got the shotty to your body So don't resist, or you might miss Christmas I tote guns, I make number runs I give emcees the runs drippin; when I throw my clip in the A.K., I slay from far away Everybody hit the D-E-C-K My slow flows remarkable Peace to Matteo Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniff the llello That's crazy blunts, mad L's My voice excels from the avenue to jailcells Oh my God I'm droppin shit like a pigeon I hope you're listenin, smackin babies at they christening So you better grab your pistol cause if you sit still, I'm gonna make your fuckin shit spill And I'm talkin bout buckets, why did I have to do it? Sadat said fuck it, you got a gun, nigga bust it Cause I got mo' shots to pop-ya Big Pop-pa, breakin you off somethin proper Signin off is the hardcore rap singer a.k.a. crack slinger, bring it anytime nigga |
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from Bad Boys (나쁜 녀석들) by Mark Mancina [ost] (1995)
B Side, B side, check it
SoSoDef, Bad Boy, collaboration The Notorious BIG's in the house We got Da Brat in the house And me, y'all know who I be Check it I got beats and beats That ya love to rock to Funk from my trunk is what I provide you So slide through your hood with me in your deck Cause yo, correct way to get your groove on, flossin I paid the costs to be the boss as a kid Now I be the one that you can't mess wit They thought luck did it, but it didn't cause I'm back again Back with the Big and my new found friend sliding in from the front, never way behind you're tryin to figure how I came with this style of mine remain, in your seats as I release the clip into yo' hip Brat and Biggie Smalls oh shit, on top of all that, I'm so-so remarkable, flow, making competition know ain't any MC coming close to the Notorious B.I.G. baby, baby I never knew that you never had a clue of who was the king of the street more deep than a range rover jeep, guns under the seat and my man just came home from work release, chrysalis in my lap, chronic in the air (now Biggie pass what's lit like you just don't care) yeah, you on my hit list, Biggie burns spliffs when I'm pissed, release the rolex from your wrist baby, no human being, Korean or European be seeing what we be seeing, now they be peeing in they drawers, because Biggie Smalls will spark a weed brat-tat-tat please speak just close your eyes, cause you already see (fool) the Notorious B-R-A-T The raw combination destination, number one tote a gun with no hestiation live with the funkdified cutie pie gat by the side, the Smalls by her side, if you mess with her you gots to mess with me and we'll be rapping at your eulogy, baby Brat-tat-tat-tat please speak I got the funk in my pocket, keep it locked down shorty you know who represents them platinuim sound now Biggie, baby, I done heard that Juicy didn't find nuthin but truth, in the hook B you're pledging to wreck with a notorious hustler ready to die jump in the benz, took me a little ride round the mountain, broke a left, hit SoSoDef and told the homey JD I was the one, buck the rest we Funkdafied, kicking it live Robin Leach teaching me how to really survive rather it be, track or blunt, ain't no need to front got what you need, and I take everything you ever wanted, nucka we come in mass, is clipping ass, my glass is full of moet the rolex is bar-bayed, parkade, b to the r, ah, a-t rolling off swoll on chrome 17 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Notorious B.I.G.]
Yeah, ninety-six, for my Nordstrom Ave niggaz My Fulton Street niggaz (hardcore for ninety-six) Dangerous MC's.. Uhh (check it out) uhh Diamonds on my neck, chrome drop-top Chillin on the scene, smokin pounds of green Oooh-wee, you see, the ugliest Money-hungriest, Brooklyn Loch Ness Nine millimeter cock test, wan fi' test? And the winner is.. [Busta Rhymes] Y'all niggaz know the rules I blast on niggaz so -- [Notorious B.I.G.] -- my fist never bruise Land-still-cruise, Frank White paid his dues Ask who's the raw, bet they say Poppa very Look forward to me like commissary All of a sudden, now every-body Big Willie Done did it, come widdit, get yo' head splitted or get your neck slitted, admit it, you overdid it Your shit it, just ain't got that LOUD Gold tooth shine like TA-DOW! Biggie Smalls the illest and how, frays raise your eyebrow By now you figure, he talkin bout that nigga but your weak-ass assumptions, lead led to dumpin IV to pump-in, you're feeling something Catch my drift, or catch my four-fifth lift at least six inches, above project fences Turn meat to minces, jokes turn to flinches When I rain I drenches, cleared your park benches (HAH) Missed you by pinches (HOO) your talk is senseless (RRUFF) Actor needs chiropractor (HAH, HOO) for cracked jaw Yes I rocked your cheddar box (hah) Dangerous you're not I gets down (HOO) Twist your body {*singing*} round and round, upside down Chorus: Busta Rhymes C'mon, yo, throw your hands c'mon Bitch grab your tits c'mon Let me know you in the spot Bump your fists, c'mon Thugs tote yo' shit we bout to get mo' rich, c'mon Let's blow the club, c'mon Fuck the place up, c'mon Shake yo' nasty ass and make it swing all around, c'mon Yo, make this money throw yo' loot on the ground, c'mon Bounce in your whips, c'mon Bitch lick yo' lips, c'mon Dangerous MC's My nigga this be the shit, c'mon Dangerous MC's My nigga this be the shit, c'mon [Mark Curry] Uh-huh, make money hand over fist The bo-vines roam where chickenhearts don't exist Settin up shop, it's hands on in the hustle Fakes don't kill nuttin but time and don't tussle The process of elimination, fresh rotation come and go and they death be starvation In the heat of battle it's no rest for the weary Snooze and you lose is the theory The theory of a patient man, is wild beyond belief Be afraid, you don't want beef with us chief Your talk is cheap and the supply meets demand Everything you can imagine is real man and revenge be the dish I serve to cats cold Stay up on about ten folds, you know how it goes You know the streets and it's real as shit, c'mon Niggaz grab your dicks, c'mon Bitches rub your tits, c'mon Chorus (minus last two lines) [Snoop Dogg] Awww nah, big Snoop Dogg Slap you with my paw, all across your jaw Break fool on these bitches while I'm breakin the law You come up in my room look bitch you takin it off Follow me, I slip em slide em rip em ride em provide em with that West coast G shit, L.B.C. shit We dips to this, make chips to this and buy brand new whips and shit, uh-huh (beyotch) I bet you didn't know that yo' bitch was suckin dick (say what?) Who you think she fuckin with? (what?) Look here My, Eastside lifestyle is way foul, move the crowd Point a pistol at you bitch niggas, BLA-DOW .. How you like me now? (what what, what?) You got stuck and fucked, Doggystyle 100 spokes Day-tonas, bendin the corner all up in Crooklyn, bad bitches are lookin Chorus (minus last two lines) [Busta Rhymes] So you lovin us so much this shit is bleedin through you If I worked in a resteraunt I'd shit in the food and feed it to you Most of my niggaz cuckoo, easy to gas to shoot you Even all of them Haitian niggaz won't believe this voodoo Can yo' pussy be chaka, don't let me speak in pat-ois and kick you in your face like we playin a game of soc-cer I love to cock the glock-a, stack up on loot and vod-ka And fuck your crew because all of y'all niggaz full of ca-ca The way we doin damage tell me how the FUCK you manage with my niggaz who marinate on foul thoughts and think savage Them niggaz'll throw you in a manhole and push they hand in yo' ass and pull yo' head right out yo' asshole! Parkay nigga we rugged all day nigga You ready to fuck bitch? Fuck the foreplay nigga This me for all consumers, my nigga FUCK the rumors Three in the worst way of pure coke for all you DRUG ABUSERS Chorus (minus last two lines) Chorus (fades out) |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Puff] Bad Boy baby [Big] Yeah.. yeah.. Junior M.A.F.I.A.,
yeah.. [Puff] Yeah.. B.I.G. 2000 B.I.G. 2000 Born Again.. c'mon.. Chorus: Notorious B.I.G. The weak or the strong, who got it goin on You're dead wrong The weak or the strong, who got it goin on You're dead wrong [Notorious B.I.G.] Relax and take notes, while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke Throw you in a choke - gun smoke, gun smoke Biggie Smalls for mayor, the rap slayer The hooker layer - motherfucker say your prayers Hail Mary full of grace.. smack the bitch in the face; take her Gucci bag and the North Face off her back, jab her if she act funny with the money oh you got me mistaken honey I don't wanna rape ya, I just want the paper The Visa, kapeesha? I'm out like, "The Vapors" Who's the one you call Mr. Macho, the head honcho Swift fist like Camacho, I got so much style I should be down wit the Stylistics Make up to break up {*singing in background*} niggaz need to wake up Smell the indonesia; beat you to a seizure Then fuck your moms, hit the skins til amnesia She don't remember shit! Just the two hits! Her hittin the floor, and me hittin the clits! Suckin on the tits! Had the hooker beggin for the dick And your moms ain't ugly love; my dick got rock quick I guess I was a combination of House of Pain and Bobby Brown I was "Humpin Around" and "Jump-in Around" Jacked her then I asked her who's the man; she said, "B-I-G" Then I bust in her E-Y-E (Yo Big, you're dead wrong) Chorus 2X + "I don't care what nobody say" sample (4X at start) [Notorious B.I.G.] When I get dusted, I like to spread the blood like mustard Trust it, my hardcore rain leaves you rusted Move over Lucifer, I'm more ruthless, huh Leave your toothless, you'll kibbitz, I'll flip it Tears don't affect me, I hit 'em with the tech G Disrespect me - my potency is deadly I'm shootin babies, no ifs ands or maybes Hit mummy in the tummy if the hooker plays a dummy Slit the wrist of little sis After she sucked the dick, I stabbed her brother with the icepick because he wanted me to fuck him from the back but Smalls don't get down like that Got your father hidin in a room; fucked him with the broom Slit him down the back and threw salt in the wound Who you think you're dealin with? Anybody step into my path is fuckin feelin it! Hardcore, I got it sucked like a pussy Stab ya til you're gushy, so please don't push.. me I'm using rubbers so they won't trace the semen The black demon, got the little hookers screamin Because you know I love it young, fresh and green with no hair in between, know what I mean? Chorus 2X + "I don't care what nobody say" sample (4X at start) [Puff] Ladies and gentlemen.. [Eminem] There's several different levels to Devil worshippin: horse's heads, human sacrifices, canibalism; candles and exorcism Animals havin sex with 'em; camels mammals and rabbits But I don't get into that, I kick the habit - I just, beat you to death with weapons that eat through the flesh And I never eat you unless the fuckin, meat looks fresh I got a lion in my pocket, I'm lyin, I got a nine in my pocket and baby I'm just, dyin to cock him He's ready for war, I'm ready for war I got machetes and swords for any faggot that said he was raw My uz' as, heavy as yours, yeah you met me before I just didn't have as large an arsenal of weapons before Marshall will step in the door, I lay your head on the floor With your body spread on the bedspread, red on the wall red on the ceilin, red on the floor, get a new whore Met on the second, wet on the third; then she's dead on the fourth - I'm dead wrong Chorus 2X + "I don't care what nobody say" sample (4X at start) Chorus repeats to fade.. [Puff Daddy] Uh-huh, and we won't stop, because we can't stop |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I know how it feel to wake up fucked up Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell People look at you like youse the user Selling drugs to all the losers, mad buddha abuser But they don't know about your stress-filled day Baby on the way mad bills to pay That's why you drink Tanqueray; so you can reminisce and wish, you wasn't livin so devilish, ssshit I remember I was just like you Smokin blunts with my crew, flippin over 62's Cause G-E-D, wasn't B-I-G I got P-A-I-D, that's why my moms hate me She was forced to kick me out, no doubt Then I figured out licks went for twenty down South Packed up my tools for my raw power move Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves for chumps tryin to stop my flow And what they don't know will show on the autopsy Went to see Papi, to cop me a brick Asked for some consignment and he wasn't tryin to hear it Smoking mad Newports cause I'm due in court for an assault, that I caught, in Bridgeport, New York Catch me if you can like the Gingerbread Man You better have your gat in hand, cause man I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I had the master plan I'm in the caravan on my way to Maryland with my man Two-Tecs to take over this projects They call him Two-Tecs, he tote two tecs And when he start to bust he like to ask, "Who's next?" I got my honey on the Amtrak with the crack in the crack of her ass Two pounds of hash in the stash I wait for hon to make some quick cash I told her she could be Lieutenant, bitch got gassed At last, I'm literally loungin black Sittin back, countin double digit thousand stacks Had to re-up; see what's up with my peeps Toyota Deal-a-Thon had it cheap on the Jeeps See who got smoked, what rumors was spread Last I heard I was dead with six to the head Then I got the phone call, it couldn't hit me harder We got infiltrated, like Nino at the Carter Heard Tec got murdered in a town I never heard of by some bitch named Alberta over nickel-plated burners And my bitch swear to God she won't snitch I told her when she hit the bricks I'll make the hooker rich Conspiracy, she'll be home in three Until then I looks out for the whole family A true G, that's me, blowing like a bubble; in the everyday struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I'm seeing body after body and our mayor Guiliani ain't tryin to see no black man turn to John Gotti My daughter use a potty so she's older now Educated street knowledge I'ma mold 'er now Trick a little dough buyin young girls fringes Dealin with the dope fiend binges, seein syringes in the veins; hard to explain, how I maintain The crack smoke make my brain feel so strange Breakin days on the set, no sweat Drunk off Moet, can't bag yet because it's still wet But when that dry, baggin five at a time I can clock about nine on the check cashin line I had the first and the third; rehearse that's my word Thick in the game, D's knew my first name Should I quit? Shit no! Even though they had me scared Yo they got a eight, I gotta teck with air holes.. ..and that's just how the shit go in the struggle motherfucker Hah.. c'mon.. what you say? I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle I don't wanna live no mo' Sometimes I hear death knockin at my front do' I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle; another day, another struggle Uhh, uhh Junior M.A.F.I.A., right (yeah..) (rock on..) (WOO! .. Biggie Smalls .. right ..) -
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5:20 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:28 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:29 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:28 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
[Intro] No... Fuck the bitches, fuck all the stank-ass hoes, all my niggas know Junior M.A.F.I.A. click, Gucci Don, you know how we play Fuckin skanless-ass bitches; you know how it go Boots I meet a bitch, fuck a bitch next thing you know you fuckin the bitch You just pass it around and shit, pass the shit like a cold and shit Fuck 'em [Verse 1] Now when I'm fuckin off gin I'm invincible Don't love no hoe, that's my priciple cause uh, bitches come [and uh] bitches go That's why I get my nut and I be out the fuckin do' [You know] they might be the one to set me up Wanna get they little brother to wet me up That's why I tote Tecs and stuff to get 'em off my case Just in case the little fucker ends up misplaced I don't give a bitch enough, to catch the bus and when I see the semen I'm leavin Bitches be schemin, I kid ya not That's why I keep my windows locked and my Glock cocked One hoe said, "Big, why you so hard on us? Why you swear all bitches are so scandalous?" Thug nigga 'til the end, tell a friend bitch Cause when I like ya, then ya go and fuck my friend bitch [And you know that ain't right] [Chorus - repeat 4X] You know that ain't right With a friend of mine [Verse 2] You see, I don't sweat these hoes I keep 'em in flavors like Timbos and Girbauds Bitches just like to play the merry-go [Yeah we know, drop the scenario] It was me, Dee, the MPV The blunts and brew thang, knockin' some Wu-tang M-E-T-H-Oh shit, look at them lips and them hips on that bitch Dee hit the dip, so I can drop my mackadocious shit Light the blunt clip, and recognize a pimp Needless to speak, the Gee's obsolete Don't sleep! Banged the skins in a week On the creep up the avenue I seen her on the block, who she rappin' to? That's my nigga Dee, damn he got Gee Now she fuckin him and fuckin me, see You know that ain't right [Chorus] [Verse 3] Uh...now I play her far like a moon play a star She still sweat me hard 'cause I'm a rap star I be cruisin up the block, I be passin her Pimpin hard with the female passenger And the only time I call her to hang Is when me and Dee blunted up, pissy, schemin on a gang-bang She should've used her intuition Then she wouldn't be classified in that position, listen She's sayin I dissed her 'cause I'm fuckin her sister A message to the fellas, that really gets 'em pissed, uh But she started that fuckin family She fucked my man Dee, so why she mad at me? (True) Plus your sister look better than you Give head better than you, pussy get wetter than you So break the fuck out like a rash I'm glad I ain't spend no cash to hit yo' nasty ass [Chorus]
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Uhh
I like that, you like that? Heh Here's another one And another one And another one And another one Uhh, what, what? *You must be used to me spendin And all that sweet winin and dinin Well I'm fuckin you tonight Here's another one And another one Uhh, uhh, what? Some say the x, make the sex Spec-tacular, make me lick you from yo neck To yo back, then ya, shiverin, tongue deliverin Chills up that spine, that ass is mine Skip the wine and the candlelight, no Cristal tonight If its alright with you, we fuckin (that's alright) Deja vu, the blunts sparked, finger fuckin in the park Pissy off Bacardi Dark Remember when I used to play between yo legs You begged for me to stop because you know where it would head Straight to yo mother's bed At the Mariott, we be lucky if we find a spot Next to yo sister, damn I really missed the way she used to rub my back, when I hit that Way she used to giggle when yo ass would wiggle Now I know you used to suites at the Parker Meridian Trips to the Carribean, but tonight, no ends *Repeat (x2) Girl you look fine, like a windface Rolex, you just shine I like that waistline Let me hit that from behind, which wall you wanna climb My styles genuine, girl I love you long time I got you pinned up, with yo fuckin limbs up All because you like the way my Benz was rimmed up Bitch keep yo shin up, please watch me do thee Nasty, like it when you make it move fast mommy I like it when you tro' it pon me No love makin, strictly back breakin Ceas' know, all his hoes, go to my door Then they go to his flo', to fuck some more So no, caviar, sharp bar, uh uh Strictly sex that's pretty and left over spaghetti I know you used to slow CD's and Don P's But tonight its eight tracks and six-packs while I hit that *Repeat (x2) Lets stop the bullshit baby Let me take you to the stop, get you hot So you wanna be with me, Puff Daddy B.I.G., bring that ass to me *Repeat |
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5:25 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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5:26 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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5:04 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
Yeah Motherfuckers better know... huh, huh Lock your windows, close your doors Biggie Smalls, huh... yeah (*scratching* "I'm a bad, bad, boy..") My man Inf left a Tec and a nine at my crib Turned himself in, he had to do a bid A one-to-three, he be home the end of '93 I'm ready to get this paper, G, you with me? Motherfucking right, my pocket's looking kind of tight and I'm stressed, yo Biggie let me get the vest No need for that, just grab the fucking gat The first pocket that's fat the Tec is to his back Word is bond, I'm a smoke him yo don't fake no moves (what?) Treat it like boxing stick and move, stick and move Nigga, you ain't got to explain shit I've been robbin motherfuckers since the slave ships with the same clip and the same four-five Two point-blank, a motherfucker's sure to die That's my word, nigga even try to bogart have his mother singing "It's so hard..." Yes Love, love your fucking attitude because the nigga play pussy that's the nigga that's getting screwed and bruised up from the pistol whipping welts on the neck from the necklace stripping Then I'm dipping up the block and I'm robbing bitches too up the herring bones and bamboos I wouldn't give fuck if you're pregnant Give me the baby rings and a #1 MOM pendant I'm slamming niggaz like Shaquille, shit is real When it's time to eat a meal I rob and steal cause Mom Duke ain't giving me shit so for the bread and butter I leave niggaz in the gutter Huh, word to mother, I'm dangerous Crazier than a bag of fucking Angel Dust When I bust my gat motherfuckers take dirt naps I'm all that and a dime sack, where the paper at? (*sample* "But he's sticking you, and taking all of your money..") Gimme the loot, gimme the loot (*scratching* "I'm a bad, bad, boy..") -Big up, big up, it's a stick up, stick up and I'm shooting niggaz quick if you hiccup Don't let me fill my clip up in your back and head piece The opposite of peace sending Mom Duke a wreath You're talking to the robbery expert Stepping to your wake with your blood on my shirt Don't be a jerk and get smoked over being resistant cause when I lick shots the shits is persistent Huh, goodness gracious the papers Where the cash at? Where the stash at? Nigga, pass that before you get your grave dug from the main thug, .357 slug And my nigga Biggie got an itchy one grip One in the chamber, 32 in the clip Motherfuckers better strip, yeah nigga peel before you find out how blue steel feel from the Beretta, putting all the holes in your sweater The money getter motherfuckers don't have better Rolex watches and colourful Swatches I'm digging in pockets, motherfuckers can't stop it Man, niggaz come through I'm taking high school rings too Bitches get *strangled* for they earrings and bangles and when I rock her and drop her I'm taking her door knockers And if she's resistant "baka! baka! baka!" So go get your man bitch he can get robbed too Tell him Biggie took it, what the fuck he gonna do? I hope apologetic or I'm a have to set it and if I set it the cocksucker won't forget it (*sample* "But he's sticking you, and taking all of your money..") Gimme the loot, gimme the loot (*scratching* "I'm a bad, bad, boy..") -Man, listen all this walking is hurting my feet But money looks sweet (where at?) in the Isuzu jeep Man, I throw him in the Beem, you grab the fucking C.R.E.A.M and if he start to scream "bam! bam!", have a nice dream Hold up, he got a fucking bitch in the car Fur coats and diamonds, she thinks she a superstar Ooh Biggie, let me jack her, I kick her in the back Hit her with the gat... Yo chill, Shorty, let me do that Just get the fucking car keys and cruise up the block The bitch act shocked, gettin shot on the spot (Oh shit! The cops!) Be cool, fool They ain't gonna roll up, all they want is fucking doughnuts (So why the fuck he keep lookin?) I guess to get his life tooken I just came home, ain't tryingto see Central Booking Oh shit, now he lookin in my face You better haul ass cause I ain't with no fucking chase So lace up your boots, cause I'm about to shoot A true motherfucker going out for the loot -
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5:04 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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5:04 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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5:07 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
[phone number being dialed]
[phone rings three times] [Biggie] Yo! [P. Dad] Yo Big wake up wake up baby [Biggie] Mmm, yo... [P. Dad] Yo Big wake yo' ass up c'mon [Biggie] I'm up! I'm up. *mumbling* I'm up I'm up [P. Dad] Big, wake up! [Biggie] I'm up baby, what the fuck, man? What's up? [P. Dad] C'mon now it's a quarter to six we got the 7:30 flight [Biggie] Mmm, *mumbling* yeah [P. Dad] Yo Big Big, Big [Biggie] Yeah I hear you dogg, I hear you, alright, 7:30 [P. Dad] Yo take down this information [Biggie] Ain't no pen [P. Dad] Tell your girl then to remember it or somethin [Biggie] Aight honey, yeah write this down [P. Dad] Aight, ummm, flight five-oh-four [Biggie] Five-oh-four [P. Dad] Leaving Kennedy [Biggie] mumbling Kennedy [P. Dad] On the L-A-X [Biggie] Oh! Cali?? [P. Dad] No doubt baby, you know we gotta get this paper [Biggie] Ahh, no doubt, aight [P. Dad] You aight? [Biggie] I'm up, I'm up [P. Dad] Yo Big [Biggie] I'm UP man [P. Dad] Flight five-oh-four [Biggie] Alright 7:30 I'ma meet you at the airport [P. Dad] California [Biggie] Yeh [phone clicks] [Verse One: Notorious B.I.G.] When the lala hits ya lyrics just splits ya Head so hard, that ya hat can't fit ya Either I'm witcha or against ya Format venture, back through that maze I sent ya Talkin to the rap inventor Nigga wit the game tight, Bic that flame right Spell my name right, B-I, Double-G, I-E Iced out lights out, me and Ceasar Leo Gettin head from some chick he know See it's all about the cheddar, nobody do it better Going back to Cali, strictly for the weather Women, and the weed -- sticky green No seeds bitch please, Poppa ain't soft Dead up in the Hood, ain't no love lost Got me mixed up, you drunk them licks up Mad cause I got my dick sucked and my balls licked, forfeit, the game is mine I'ma spell my name one more time, check it Its the, N-O, T-O, R-I, O U-S, you just, lay down, slow Recognize a real Don when you see Juan/one Sippin on booze in the House of Blues [Chorus: repeat 4X] I'm going going, back back, to Cali Cali [Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.] If I got to choose a coast I got to choose the East I live out there, so don't go there But that don't mean a nigga can't rest in the West See some nice breasts in the West Smoke some nice sess in the West, y'all niggaz is a mess Thinkin I'm gon stop, givin L.A. props All I got is beef with those that violate me I shall annihilate thee Case closed, suitcase filled with clothes Linens and things, I begin things People start to flash, 818's, 213's 313's, B.I.G. Frequently floss hoes at Roscoe's If I wanna squirt her, take her to Fatburger Spend about a week on Venice Beach Sippin Crist-o, with some freaks from Frisco [Chorus] [Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G.] Cali got gunplay, models on the runway Scream Biggie Biggie gimme One More Chance I be whippin on the freeway, the NYC way On the celly-celly with my homeboy Lance Pass hash from left to right Only got five blunts left to light, I'm set tonight Paid a visit to Versace stores Bet she suck until I ain't got no more, only in L.A. Bust on bitches be-lly, rub it in they tummy Lick it, say it's yummy, then fuck yo' man Fuck your plan, is it to rock the Tri-State? Almost gold, 5 G's at show gate Or do you wanna see about seven digits Fuck hoes exquisite, Cali, great place to visit [Chorus] [Chorus] [Chorus: Again to fade] |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
[phone number being dialed]
[phone rings three times] [Biggie] Yo! [P. Dad] Yo Big wake up wake up baby [Biggie] Mmm, yo... [P. Dad] Yo Big wake yo' ass up c'mon [Biggie] I'm up! I'm up. *mumbling* I'm up I'm up [P. Dad] Big, wake up! [Biggie] I'm up baby, what the fuck, man? What's up? [P. Dad] C'mon now it's a quarter to six we got the 7:30 flight [Biggie] Mmm, *mumbling* yeah [P. Dad] Yo Big Big, Big [Biggie] Yeah I hear you dogg, I hear you, alright, 7:30 [P. Dad] Yo take down this information [Biggie] Ain't no pen [P. Dad] Tell your girl then to remember it or somethin [Biggie] Aight honey, yeah write this down [P. Dad] Aight, ummm, flight five-oh-four [Biggie] Five-oh-four [P. Dad] Leaving Kennedy [Biggie] mumbling Kennedy [P. Dad] On the L-A-X [Biggie] Oh! Cali?? [P. Dad] No doubt baby, you know we gotta get this paper [Biggie] Ahh, no doubt, aight [P. Dad] You aight? [Biggie] I'm up, I'm up [P. Dad] Yo Big [Biggie] I'm UP man [P. Dad] Flight five-oh-four [Biggie] Alright 7:30 I'ma meet you at the airport [P. Dad] California [Biggie] Yeh [phone clicks] [Verse One: Notorious B.I.G.] When the lala hits ya lyrics just splits ya Head so hard, that ya hat can't fit ya Either I'm witcha or against ya Format venture, back through that maze I sent ya Talkin to the rap inventor Nigga wit the game tight, Bic that flame right Spell my name right, B-I, Double-G, I-E Iced out lights out, me and Ceasar Leo Gettin head from some chick he know See it's all about the cheddar, nobody do it better Going back to Cali, strictly for the weather Women, and the weed -- sticky green No seeds bitch please, Poppa ain't soft Dead up in the Hood, ain't no love lost Got me mixed up, you drunk them licks up Mad cause I got my dick sucked and my balls licked, forfeit, the game is mine I'ma spell my name one more time, check it Its the, N-O, T-O, R-I, O U-S, you just, lay down, slow Recognize a real Don when you see Juan/one Sippin on booze in the House of Blues [Chorus: repeat 4X] I'm going going, back back, to Cali Cali [Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.] If I got to choose a coast I got to choose the East I live out there, so don't go there But that don't mean a nigga can't rest in the West See some nice breasts in the West Smoke some nice sess in the West, y'all niggaz is a mess Thinkin I'm gon stop, givin L.A. props All I got is beef with those that violate me I shall annihilate thee Case closed, suitcase filled with clothes Linens and things, I begin things People start to flash, 818's, 213's 313's, B.I.G. Frequently floss hoes at Roscoe's If I wanna squirt her, take her to Fatburger Spend about a week on Venice Beach Sippin Crist-o, with some freaks from Frisco [Chorus] [Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G.] Cali got gunplay, models on the runway Scream Biggie Biggie gimme One More Chance I be whippin on the freeway, the NYC way On the celly-celly with my homeboy Lance Pass hash from left to right Only got five blunts left to light, I'm set tonight Paid a visit to Versace stores Bet she suck until I ain't got no more, only in L.A. Bust on bitches be-lly, rub it in they tummy Lick it, say it's yummy, then fuck yo' man Fuck your plan, is it to rock the Tri-State? Almost gold, 5 G's at show gate Or do you wanna see about seven digits Fuck hoes exquisite, Cali, great place to visit [Chorus] [Chorus] [Chorus: Again to fade] |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
*phone number being dialed*
*phone rings three times* Yo! Yo Big wake up wake up baby Mmm, yo... Yo Big wake yo' ass up c'mon I'm up! I'm up. *mumbling* I'm up I'm up Big, wake up! I'm up baby, what the fuck, man? What's up? C'mon now it's a quarter to six we got the 7:30 flight Mmm, *mumbling* yeah Yo Big Big, Big Yeah I hear you dogg, I hear you, alright, 7:30 Yo take down this information Ain't no pen Tell your girl then to remember it or somethin Aight honey, yeah write this down Aight, ummm, flight five-oh-four Five-oh-four Leaving Kennedy *mumbling* Kennedy On the L-A-X Oh! Cali?? No doubt baby, you know we gotta get this paper Ahh, no doubt, aight You aight? I'm up, I'm up Yo Big I'm UP man Flight five-oh-four Alright 7:30 I'ma meet you at the airport California Yeh *phone clicks* When the lala hits ya lyrics just splits ya Head so hard, that ya hat can't fit ya Either I'm witcha or against ya Format venture, back through that maze I sent ya Talkin to the rap inventor Nigga wit the game tight, Bic that flame right Spell my name right, B-I, Double-G, I-E Iced out lights out, me and Cease-a-Leo Gettin head from some chick he know See it's all about the cheddar, nobody do it better Going back to Cali, strictly for the weather Women, and the weed -- sticky green No seeds bitch please, Poppa ain't soft Dead up in the Hood, ain't no love lost Got me mixed up, you drunk them licks up Mad cause I got my dick sucked and my balls licked, forfeit, the game is mine I'ma spell my name one more time, check it Its the, N-O, T-O, R-I, O U-S, you just, lay down, slow Recognize a real Don when you see Juan/one Sippin on booze in the House of Blues *I'm going going, back back, to Cali Cali (x4) If I got to choose a coast I got to choose the East I live out there, so don't go there But that don't mean a nigga can't rest in the West See some nice breasts in the West Smoke some nice sess in the West, y'all niggaz is a mess Thinkin I'm gon stop, givin L.A. props All I got is beef with those that violate me I shall annihilate thee Case closed, suitcase filled with clothes Linens and things, I begin things People start to flash, 818's, 213's 313's, B.I.G. Frequently floss hoes at Roscoe's If I wanna squirt her, take her to Fatburger Spend about a week on Venice Beach Sippin Crist-o, with some freaks from Frisco *Repeat Cali got gunplay, models on the runway Scream Biggie Biggie gimme One More Chance I be whippin on the freeway, the NYC way On the celly-celly with my homeboy Lance Pass hash from left to right Only got five blunts left to light, I'm set tonight Paid a visit to Versace stores Bet she suck until I ain't got no more, only in L.A. Bust on bitches be-lly, rub it in they tummy Lick it, say it's yummy, then fuck yo' man Fuck your plan, is it to rock the Tri-State? Almost gold, 5 G's at show gate Or do you wanna see about seven digits Fuck hoes exquisite, Cali, great place to visit *Repeat (x3) |
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2:46 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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2:46 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Nasty Girl (2006) | |||||
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2:46 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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4:10 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Biggie]
Check the pain I inflict, like a convict, the Fulton digger Jump in the Acura Vigor, after I stick ya Rip ya like a razor, straight up Henny with no chaser Watch me erase ya, misplace ya Put you in the back with the derelicts Yeah, I pop plenty shit Chump, I'm making hits No time for the crack rock and shit Took it to another level Now I'm getting crazy papes, getting paid from the devils Another amateur trying to damage the pedigree Of the B-I-G-G-I-E, you know it's me Hoes I thought you know I'm smooth as a babies ass Smooth as Teeddy Pendegrass, smoke the grass, get in your ass The Brooklyn born Teflon don, wrecking shop Getting props, proving nobody drops Words as potent as the blunt smoking Bed-Stuy bandit And niggas just can't understand it I bust a cap for the brothers in Nap Nap, Comstock, and Clinton You know my shit is hitting Yeah ya'll a fly nigga, Biggie Smalls Kicking flavor, make a nigga wanna dig up in they drawers For the burner, catch a body I got styles like karate Jujitsu, when I hit you then I split you Like a cantaloupe Hope you got a rope to hang yourself I rob for self, from Brooklyn, where else Fat like a Lexus coupe, I'll rip your troop Not even Lois Lnae could get the scoop What you think I'm stupid My crew is mad deep I hope you niggas sleep [B.G.] I throw a bomb through you window Burn you up and your hoe I catch your mama going to therapy And cut her throat You lil' sister walking home from school I abduct her, then I fuck her I hit ya park close up with the Louisville Slugger BGeezy is the hustla, ignorant motherfucker I was taught how to bust heads by the best head busters Cluckers, you know I got'em 2 for 1 my nigga I'm on V.L. if you want me, get some my nigga, come on [Big Tymer] Thuggin is my thing, if I'm beefing I'm banginhg Slanging, it's in my nature, gotta be about my paper Haters, I don't like'em, bitches, I don't trust'em Niggas, I can't stand'em, I creep down and pluck'em Strap say in my hand, I gotta protect mine Niggas trying to pull it off, pop goes the nine That's how it gotta be in these uptown streets And a nigga like me, I play the game for keep [Juvenile] I remember when niggaz slang heroin up in balloons I paid attention to everything , from killings to cartoons Got a picture of Malcolm X on the wall in my room Bitch Want some more nigga, fuck with me I'ma doom shit Nigga give me dope, I accept it, but don't respect him Put my foot in they rectum right after I dome check 'em I be popping D, smoking weed, and full of that Hennesey Fresh off the streets on my way to the penitentiary Everybody whisper in ears when they gone mention me I been out doing it for years, since elementary Real good relationship with guns and drugs Because my whole neighborhood consist of crook and thugs Everything is my own shit cause I don't fuck with scrubs I don't need you harassing me when I'm up in the club Trying to hustle a nigga, asking me for a dub Quarter, ki's, and halfs is what I sling, cause that's what I love [Turk] I know you bitches know that I ain't to be played with Dont have no picks and chooses who get they head split They die quick, fuckin' with Turk, wodie get whacked Spend a bin with Kevin and Randy leave ya flat on you back and trust that, ain't bout to let no nigga steal me Fuck that, I bust back with 223 Big and full of that raw with no cut and be ready to creep Innocent people move 'cause somebody fix'n to get split [Lil' Wayne] Na, Na, it's iceberg shorty, Lordy have mercy Come from under my shirts and flip'em and reverse'em I'm coming so alert them (Ur, Ur) fore I hurt them, desert eagle bursting You haven't seen the worst and I'm right near you and my gun blast quick, dog Could kill you so run, dash, get gone Wodies movin slow around this time they got bricks dog I ain't got bricks dog, nigga break it off, what [Puff Daddy] Un huh, B.I.G. with the Cash Money Millionaires, forever Juvenile, Lil' Wayne, Baby, Turk, B.G., Manny Fresh Slim, CEO, and me P. Diddy, B.I.G, Born Again And we won't stop, get money niggas |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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5:47 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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5:47 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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3:50 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Hah sicka than your average
Poppa Twist cabbage off instinct niggaz don't think shit stink pink gators my Detroit players Timbs for my hoagans Brooklyn Dead right if the head right Biggie there ery'night Poppa been smooth since days of Underroos Never lose never choose to bruise crews who do something to us talk go through us Girls walk to us wanna do us screw us Who us Yeah Poppa and Puff Close like Starsky and Hutch stick the clutch Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M 3 Bang every MC easily busily Recently niggaz frontin ain't sayin nuttin So I just speak my piece keep my piece Cubans with the Jesus piece with my peeps Packin askin who want it you got it nigga flaunt it That Brooklyn bullshit we on it Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid I put hoes in NY onto DKNY Miami D C prefer Versace All Philly hoes dough and Moschino Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi Now who's the real dookie meanin who's really the shit Them niggaz ride dicks Frank White push the sticks on the Lexus LX four and a half Bulletproof glass tints if I want some ass Gon' blast squeeze first ask questions last That's how most of these so called gangsters pass At last a nigga rappin bout blunts and broads Tits and bras menage a tois sex in expensive cars still leave you on the pavement Condo paid for no car payment At my arraignment note for the plantiff Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement Face it not guilty that's how I stay filthy Richer than Richie till you niggaz come and get Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid I can fill ya wit real millionaire shit Escargot my car go one sixty swiftly Wreck it buy a new one Your crew run run run your crew run run I know you sick of this name brand nigga wit flows girls say he's sweet like licorice So get this nigga it's easy Girlfriend here's a pen call me round ten Come through have sex on rugs that's Persian Come up to your job hit you while you workin for certain Poppa freakin not speakin Leave that ass leakin like rapper demo Tell them hoe take they clothes off slowly Hit em wit the force like Obe dick black like Toby Watch me roam like Gobe lucky they don't owe me Where the safe show me homey Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid |
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3:50 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Hah, sicka than your average Poppa
Twist cabbage off instinct niggaz don't think shit stink pink gators, my Detroit players Timbs for my hooligans in Brooklyn Dead right, if the head right, Biggie there ery'night Poppa been smooth since days of Underroos Never lose, never choose to, bruise crews who do something to us, talk go through us Girls walk to us, wanna do us, screw us Who us? Yeah, Poppa and Puff (ehehehe) Close like Starsky and Hutch, stick the clutch Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M-3 (Take that, take that, take that, haha!) Bang every MC easily, busily Recently niggaz frontin ain't sayin nuttin (nope) So I just speak my piece, (c'mon) keep my piece Cubans with the Jesus piece (thank you God), with my peeps Packin, askin who want it, you got it nigga flaunt it That Brooklyn bullshit, we on it Chorus: sung in imitation of part of Slick Rick's "La-Di-Da-Di" Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hypnotize) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (hah) [Verse Two] I put hoes in NY onto DKNY (uh-huh) Miami, D.C. prefer Versace (that's right) All Philly hoes, dough and Moschino (c'mon) Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi (haaaaah!) Now who's the real dookie, meanin who's really the shit Them niggaz ride dicks, Frank White push the sticks on the Lexus, LX, four and a half Bulletproof glass tints if I want some ass Gon' blast squeeze first ask questions last That's how most of these so-called gangsters pass At last, a nigga rappin bout blunts and broads Tits and bras, menage-a-tois, sex in expensive cars I still leave you on the pavement Condo paid for, no car payment At my arraignment, note for the plantiff Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement (shhh) Face it, not guilty, that's how I stay filthy (not guilty) Richer than Richie, till you niggaz come and get me Chorus: Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (huh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hypnotize) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) [Verse Three] I can fill ya wit real millionaire shit (I can fill ya) Escargot, my car go, one sixty, swiftly Wreck it buy a new one Your crew run run run, your crew run run I know you sick of this, name brand nigga wit flows girls say he's sweet like licorice So get with this nigga, it's easy Girlfriend here's a pen, call me round ten Come through, have sex on rugs that's Persian (that's right) Come up to your job, hit you while you workin (uhh) for certain, Poppa freakin, not speakin Leave that ass leakin, like rapper demo Tell them hoe, take they clothes off slowly Hit em wit the force like Obe, dick black like Toby (Obe... Toby) Watch me roam like Gobe, lucky they don't owe me Where the safe show me, homey.. (say what, homey) Chorus: Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hypnotize) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid *fades* |
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3:58 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Hah sicka than your average
Poppa Twist cabbage off instinct niggaz don't think shit stink pink gators my Detroit players Timbs for my hoagans Brooklyn Dead right if the head right Biggie there ery'night Poppa been smooth since days of Underroos Never lose never choose to bruise crews who do something to us talk go through us Girls walk to us wanna do us screw us Who us Yeah Poppa and Puff Close like Starsky and Hutch stick the clutch Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M 3 Bang every MC easily busily Recently niggaz frontin ain't sayin nuttin So I just speak my piece keep my piece Cubans with the Jesus piece with my peeps Packin askin who want it you got it nigga flaunt it That Brooklyn bullshit we on it Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid I put hoes in NY onto DKNY Miami D C prefer Versace All Philly hoes dough and Moschino Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi Now who's the real dookie meanin who's really the shit Them niggaz ride dicks Frank White push the sticks on the Lexus LX four and a half Bulletproof glass tints if I want some ass Gon' blast squeeze first ask questions last That's how most of these so called gangsters pass At last a nigga rappin bout blunts and broads Tits and bras menage a tois sex in expensive cars still leave you on the pavement Condo paid for no car payment At my arraignment note for the plantiff Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement Face it not guilty that's how I stay filthy Richer than Richie till you niggaz come and get Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid I can fill ya wit real millionaire shit Escargot my car go one sixty swiftly Wreck it buy a new one Your crew run run run your crew run run I know you sick of this name brand nigga wit flows girls say he's sweet like licorice So get this nigga it's easy Girlfriend here's a pen call me round ten Come through have sex on rugs that's Persian Come up to your job hit you while you workin for certain Poppa freakin not speakin Leave that ass leakin like rapper demo Tell them hoe take they clothes off slowly Hit em wit the force like Obe dick black like Toby Watch me roam like Gobe lucky they don't owe me Where the safe show me homey Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke and you're so paid |
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4:43 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
I Got a Story to Tell
Who y'all talkin to man? Uhh Check it out, check it out This here goes out to all the niggaz that be fuckin mad bitches in other niggaz cribs thinkin shit is sweet Nigga creep up on your ass, hahaha Live niggaz respect it, check it I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya Even left all my motherfuckin hoes for ya Niggaz think Frankie pussy whipped, nigga picture that With a Kodak, Insta-ma-tak We don't get down like that, lay my game down quite flat Sweetness, where you parked at? Petiteness but that ass fat She got a body make a nigga wanna eat that, I'm fuck witchu The bitch official doe, dick harder than a missile yo Try to hit if she trippin dissapearin like Arsenio Yo, the bitch push a double-oh with the five in front, probably a connivin stunt Y'all drive in front, I'm a peel with her Find a deal with her, she fuck around and steal, huh? Then we all get laced Television's, Versacci heaven, when I'm up in em The shit she kicked, all the shit's legit She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks Nigga tricked ridiculous, the shit was plush She's stressin me to fuck, like she was in a rush We fucked in his bed, quite dangerous I'm in his ass while he playin gainst the Utah Jazz My 112, CD blast, I was past She came twice I came last, roll the grass She giggle, say I don't smoke it on homegrown Then I heard her moan, honey I'm home Yep, tote chrome for situations like this I'm up in his broad I know he won't like this Now I'm like bitch you better talk to him Before this fist put a spark to him Fuck around shit get dark to him, put a part through him Lose a major part to him, arm, leg She beggin me to stop but this cat gettin closer Gettin hot like a toaster, I cocks the toast, uhh Before my eyes could blink She screams out, "Honey bring me up somethin to drink!" He go back downstairs more time to think Her brain racin, she's tellin me to stay patient She don't know I'm, cool as a fan Gat in hand, I don't wanna blast her man But I can and I will doe, I probably chill doe Even though situation lookin kinda ill yo It came to me like a song I wrote Told the bitch gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face Roped the bitch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase Play the cut, nigga comin off some love potion shit Flash the heat on em, he stood emotionless Dropped the glass screamin, "Don't blast here's the stash, a hundred cash just don't shoot my ass, please!" Nigga pullin mad G's out the floor Put stacks in a Prater knapsack, hit the door Grab the keys to the five, call my niggaz on the cell Bring some weed I got a story to tell, uhh... Yo man, y'all niggaz ain't gonna believe what the fuck happened to me. Remember that bitch I left the club with man? Yo, freaky yo. I'm up in this bitch playa this bitch fuckin run them ol mink ass niggaz and shit, I'm up in the spot though. One of them six-five niggaz, I don't know. Anyway I'm up in the motherfuckin spot, so boom I'm up in the pussy, whatever whatever. I sparks up some lye, Pop Duke creeps up in on some, must have been rained out or something *laughing* because he's in the spot. Had me scared, had me scared, I was shook Daddy - but I forget I had my Roscoe on me. Always. You know how we do. So anyway the nigga comes up the stairs, he creepin up the steps, the bitch all shook she sends the nigga back downstairs to get some drinks and shit. She gettin mad nervous, I said fuck that man! I'm the nigga, you know how we do it nigga, ransom note style put the scarf around my motherfuckin face, gagged that bitch up, played the kizzack. Soon this nigga comes up in the spot, flash the Desert in his face he drops the glass. Looked like the nigga pissed on his-self or somethin, word to mother! Ahh fuckit this nigga runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet, start givin me mad papers, mad papers. (I told you that bitch was a shiesty bitch cuz! Word to mother I used to fuck her cousin but you ain't know that! Hahaha. You wouldn't know that shit. Really though.) I threw all that motherfuckin money up in the Prater knapsack. Two words, I'm gone! (No doubt, no doubt... no doubt!) Yo nigga got some lye, y'all got some lye? *conversation fades out* |
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4:43 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
I Got a Story to Tell
Who y'all talkin to man? Uhh Check it out, check it out This here goes out to all the niggaz that be fuckin mad bitches in other niggaz cribs thinkin shit is sweet Nigga creep up on your ass, hahaha Live niggaz respect it, check it I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya Even left all my motherfuckin hoes for ya Niggaz think Frankie pussy whipped, nigga picture that With a Kodak, Insta-ma-tak We don't get down like that, lay my game down quite flat Sweetness, where you parked at? Petiteness but that ass fat She got a body make a nigga wanna eat that, I'm fuck witchu The bitch official doe, dick harder than a missile yo Try to hit if she trippin dissapearin like Arsenio Yo, the bitch push a double-oh with the five in front, probably a connivin stunt Y'all drive in front, I'm a peel with her Find a deal with her, she fuck around and steal, huh? Then we all get laced Television's, Versacci heaven, when I'm up in em The shit she kicked, all the shit's legit She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks Nigga tricked ridiculous, the shit was plush She's stressin me to fuck, like she was in a rush We fucked in his bed, quite dangerous I'm in his ass while he playin gainst the Utah Jazz My 112, CD blast, I was past She came twice I came last, roll the grass She giggle, say I don't smoke it on homegrown Then I heard her moan, honey I'm home Yep, tote chrome for situations like this I'm up in his broad I know he won't like this Now I'm like bitch you better talk to him Before this fist put a spark to him Fuck around shit get dark to him, put a part through him Lose a major part to him, arm, leg She beggin me to stop but this cat gettin closer Gettin hot like a toaster, I cocks the toast, uhh Before my eyes could blink She screams out, "Honey bring me up somethin to drink!" He go back downstairs more time to think Her brain racin, she's tellin me to stay patient She don't know I'm, cool as a fan Gat in hand, I don't wanna blast her man But I can and I will doe, I probably chill doe Even though situation lookin kinda ill yo It came to me like a song I wrote Told the bitch gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face Roped the bitch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase Play the cut, nigga comin off some love potion shit Flash the heat on em, he stood emotionless Dropped the glass screamin, "Don't blast here's the stash, a hundred cash just don't shoot my ass, please!" Nigga pullin mad G's out the floor Put stacks in a Prater knapsack, hit the door Grab the keys to the five, call my niggaz on the cell Bring some weed I got a story to tell, uhh... Yo man, y'all niggaz ain't gonna believe what the fuck happened to me. Remember that bitch I left the club with man? Yo, freaky yo. I'm up in this bitch playa this bitch fuckin run them ol mink ass niggaz and shit, I'm up in the spot though. One of them six-five niggaz, I don't know. Anyway I'm up in the motherfuckin spot, so boom I'm up in the pussy, whatever whatever. I sparks up some lye, Pop Duke creeps up in on some, must have been rained out or something *laughing* because he's in the spot. Had me scared, had me scared, I was shook Daddy - but I forget I had my Roscoe on me. Always. You know how we do. So anyway the nigga comes up the stairs, he creepin up the steps, the bitch all shook she sends the nigga back downstairs to get some drinks and shit. She gettin mad nervous, I said fuck that man! I'm the nigga, you know how we do it nigga, ransom note style put the scarf around my motherfuckin face, gagged that bitch up, played the kizzack. Soon this nigga comes up in the spot, flash the Desert in his face he drops the glass. Looked like the nigga pissed on his-self or somethin, word to mother! Ahh fuckit this nigga runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet, start givin me mad papers, mad papers. (I told you that bitch was a shiesty bitch cuz! Word to mother I used to fuck her cousin but you ain't know that! Hahaha. You wouldn't know that shit. Really though.) I threw all that motherfuckin money up in the Prater knapsack. Two words, I'm gone! (No doubt, no doubt... no doubt!) Yo nigga got some lye, y'all got some lye? *conversation fades out* |
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5:12 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Uhh, uhh
Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh Hah, what, I like this Uhh, uhh, I like this What? Uhh, what? Uhh We push the hottest V's, peel fast through the city, play Monopoly with real cash Me and Biggie and the models be, shaking they saditty ass And parotta be, somethin you cats got to see And the watches be all types and shapes of stones Bein broke is childish and I'm quite grown Run up in the club with the ice on, me and Paisan' Scope the spot out, see somethin nice and I'm gone You cats is home, screamin the fight's on I'm in the fifteen hundred seats, watchin Ty-son Same night, same fight But one of us cats ain't playin right, I let you tell it People place yourselves in the shoes of two felons And tell me you won't ball every chance you get and any chance you hit, we live for the moment Makes sense don't it? Now make dollars Cats pop bottles bone chicks that favor Idalis and rack up frequent flier mileage Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I'm poppin Magnums while Jigga bag somethin Watch is platinum, got jet lag from flights back and forth, pop corks of the best grapes Make the best CD's and the best tapes Don't forget the vinyl, take girls break spinals Biggie be Richie like Lionel, shit You seen the Jesus, dipped to H classes Ice project off lights, chick flashes Blind your broke asses, even got rocks in big mustaches Rock top fashions Ain't shit changed, except the number after the dot on the Range, way niggaz look at me now, kinda strange I hate y'all too Rather be in Carribean sands with Rachael It's unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal Bitches used to go, "Ewww!" Still tote steel, tryin to see five mil off the sin-gle, for real You ain't fazin the amazin While your gun's raisin, mine is blazin See you on see me all talkin to sweetness Take it for weakness and leave quick Blocker, Roc-a-, Fella, Bad Boy collabo Two MC's with mad dough, ju' know! *I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey(x2) Miracu-lous, pockets stay full Niggaz skip the bull cause we matadors Snatch the P-89's that we pack in the drawers And we, clappin doors in your Acuras Snap like, cameras on amateurs Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks or flaws Erybody got a part to play, back to yours Run up in your crib now, crack your doors Watch the real players live, it's a habit to floss Play the charts like the Beatles, y'all adapt you lost And toast Cristal on behalf of y'all Too bad for y'all, ain't too many as bad as yours truly, do we, we laugh at y'all Little bastards y'all Uhh, uhh We hit makers with acres Roll shakers in Vegas, you can't break us Lost chips on Lakers, gassed off Shaq Country house, tennis courts on horseback Ridin decidin cracked crab or lobster Who say mobsters don't prosper Niggaz is actors, niggaz deserve Oscars Me I'm, critically acclaimed, slug past your brain Reminesce on dames who, coochie used to stink When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places Tito smile everytime he see our faces Cases catch more than outfield-ers Half these rappin cats, ain't seen war Couldn't score if they had point game, they lame Speak my name, I make em dash like Dame *Repeat |
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5:40 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
I Love the Dough
Verse One: Jay-Z We push the hottest V's, peel fast through the city, play Monopoly with real cash Me and Biggie and the models be, ?sugar nase and did he ask? ?And parotta be?, somethin you cats got to see And the watches be all types and shapes of stones Bein broke is childish and I'm quite grown Run up in the club with the ice on, me and Python Scope the spot out, see somethin nice and I'm gone You cats is home, screamin the fight's on I'm in the fifteen hundred seats, watchin Ty-son Same night, same fight But one of us cats ain't playin right, I let you tell it People place yourselves in the shoes of two felons And tell me you won't ball every chance you get and any chance you hit, we live for the moment Makes sense don't it? Now make dollars Cats pop bottles bone chicks that pay for hors d'ourves And rack up frequent flier mileage Chorus: Angela Winbush Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G. I'm poppin Magnums while Jigga bag somethin Watch is platinum, got jet lag from flights back and forth, pop corks of the best grapes Make the best CD's and the best tapes Don't forget the vinyl, take girls break spinals Biggie be Richie like Lionel, shit You seen the Jesus, dipped to H classes, Ice project off lights, chick flashes Blind your broke asses, even got rocks in big mustaches Rock top fashions Ain't shit changed, except the number after the dot on the Range, way niggaz look at me now, kinda strange I hate y'all too Rather be in Carribean sand to rake through It's unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal Bitches used to go, "Ewww!" Still tote steel, tryin to see five mil off the sin-gle, for real You ain't fazin the amazin While your gun's raisin, mine is blazin See you on see me all talkin to sweetness Take it for weakness and leave quick Blocker, rocker, fellow, Bad Boy collabo Two MC's with mad dough, jewelry on! Chorus: Angela Winbush I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey (repeat 2X) Verse Three: Jay-Z, Notorious B.I.G. Miracu-lous, pockets stay full Niggaz skip the bull cause we matadors Snatch the P-89's that we pack in the drawers And we, clappin doors in your Acuras Snap like, cameras or amateurs Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks in floors Erybody got a part to play, back to yours Run up in your crib now, crack your doors Watch the real players live, it's a habit to floss Play the charts like the Beatles, y'all ?dapped and lost? And toast Cristal on behalf of y'all Too bad for y'all, ain't too many as bad as yours truly, do we, we laugh at y'all Little bastards y'all Uhh, uhh We hit makers with acres Roll shakers in Vegas, you can't break us Lost chips on Lakers, gassed off Shaq Country house, tennis courts on horseback Ridin decidin cracked crab or lobster Who say mobsters don't prosper Niggaz is actors, niggaz deserve Oscars Me I'm, critically acclaimed, slug past your brain Reminesce on dames who, coochie used to stink When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places Tito smile everytime he see our faces Cases catch more than outfield-ers Half these rappin cats, ain't seen war Couldn't score if they had point game, they lame Speak my name, I make em dash like Dame Chorus: Angela Winbush I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey (repeat to fade) |
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5:12 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
I Love the Dough
Verse One: Jay-Z We push the hottest V's, peel fast through the city, play Monopoly with real cash Me and Biggie and the models be, ?sugar nase and did he ask? ?And parotta be?, somethin you cats got to see And the watches be all types and shapes of stones Bein broke is childish and I'm quite grown Run up in the club with the ice on, me and Python Scope the spot out, see somethin nice and I'm gone You cats is home, screamin the fight's on I'm in the fifteen hundred seats, watchin Ty-son Same night, same fight But one of us cats ain't playin right, I let you tell it People place yourselves in the shoes of two felons And tell me you won't ball every chance you get and any chance you hit, we live for the moment Makes sense don't it? Now make dollars Cats pop bottles bone chicks that pay for hors d'ourves And rack up frequent flier mileage Chorus: Angela Winbush Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G. I'm poppin Magnums while Jigga bag somethin Watch is platinum, got jet lag from flights back and forth, pop corks of the best grapes Make the best CD's and the best tapes Don't forget the vinyl, take girls break spinals Biggie be Richie like Lionel, shit You seen the Jesus, dipped to H classes, Ice project off lights, chick flashes Blind your broke asses, even got rocks in big mustaches Rock top fashions Ain't shit changed, except the number after the dot on the Range, way niggaz look at me now, kinda strange I hate y'all too Rather be in Carribean sand to rake through It's unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal Bitches used to go, "Ewww!" Still tote steel, tryin to see five mil off the sin-gle, for real You ain't fazin the amazin While your gun's raisin, mine is blazin See you on see me all talkin to sweetness Take it for weakness and leave quick Blocker, rocker, fellow, Bad Boy collabo Two MC's with mad dough, jewelry on! Chorus: Angela Winbush I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey (repeat 2X) Verse Three: Jay-Z, Notorious B.I.G. Miracu-lous, pockets stay full Niggaz skip the bull cause we matadors Snatch the P-89's that we pack in the drawers And we, clappin doors in your Acuras Snap like, cameras or amateurs Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks in floors Erybody got a part to play, back to yours Run up in your crib now, crack your doors Watch the real players live, it's a habit to floss Play the charts like the Beatles, y'all ?dapped and lost? And toast Cristal on behalf of y'all Too bad for y'all, ain't too many as bad as yours truly, do we, we laugh at y'all Little bastards y'all Uhh, uhh We hit makers with acres Roll shakers in Vegas, you can't break us Lost chips on Lakers, gassed off Shaq Country house, tennis courts on horseback Ridin decidin cracked crab or lobster Who say mobsters don't prosper Niggaz is actors, niggaz deserve Oscars Me I'm, critically acclaimed, slug past your brain Reminesce on dames who, coochie used to stink When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places Tito smile everytime he see our faces Cases catch more than outfield-ers Half these rappin cats, ain't seen war Couldn't score if they had point game, they lame Speak my name, I make em dash like Dame Chorus: Angela Winbush I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey (repeat to fade) |
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5:10 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
* this is actually a remix of "Everyday Struggle"
[Notorious B.I.G.] Wooo! There's gonna be a lot of punchin in this motherfucker Y'all better be swift with that punch button Jack Biggie.. Biggie.. [Notorious B.I.G.] I know how it feel to wake up fucked up Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell People look at you like youse the user Selling drugs to all the losers, mad buddha abuser But they don't know about your stress-filled day Baby on the way mad bills to pay That's why you drink Tanqueray; so you can reminisce and wish, you wasn't livin so devilish, ssshit I remember I was just like you Smokin blunts with my crew, flippin over 62's Cause G-E-D, wasn't B-I-G I had to get P-A-D, that's why my moms hate me She was forced to kick me out, no doubt Then I figured out licks went for twenty down South Packed up my tools for my raw power move Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves for chumps tryin to stop my flow And what they don't know will show on the autopsy Went to see Papi, to cop me a brick Asked for some consignment, he wasn't tryin to hear it Smoking mad Newports cause I'm due in court for an assault, that I caught, in Bridgeport, New York Catch me if you can like the Gingerbread Man You better have your gat in hand, cause man Chorus: K-Ci & JoJo Come and run with me .. I really wanna show you How I run the streets .. I really wanna show you How I'm clockin G's .. I really wanna show you Come and run with me .. I really wanna show you [Notorious B.I.G.] I had the master plan I'm in the caravan on my way to Maryland with my man Two-Tecs to take over this projects They call him Two-Tecs, he tote two tecs And when he start to bust he like to ask, "Who's next?" I got my honey on the Amtrak with the crack in the crack of her ass Two pounds of hash in the stash I wait for hon to make some quick cash I told her she could be Lieutenant, bitch got gassed At last, I'm literally loungin black Sittin back, countin double digit thousand stacks Had to re-up; see what's up with my peeps Toyota Deal-a-Thon had it cheap on the Jeeps See who got smoked, what rumors was spread Last I heard I was dead with six to the head Then I got the phone call, it couldn't hit me harder We got infiltrated, like Nino at the Carter Heard Tec got murdered in a town I never heard of by some bitch named Alberta over nickel-plated burners And my bitch swear to God she won't snitch I told her when she hit the bricks I'll make the hooker rich Conspiracy, she'll be home in three Until then I looks out for the whole family A true G, that's me, blowing like a bubble; in the everyday struggle Chorus [Notorious B.I.G.] I'm seeing body after body and our mayor Guiliani ain't tryin to see no black man turn to John Gotti [Nas] Guns and diamonds Bitches put they tongues where the sun ain't shinin Take ki's til they spot us, snakes flee with consignment This kid he got his krib rated, police found grams They locked up, his whole fam; moms sister his old man Nigga bailed his moms out, then he told on his man Now they home, actin like nuttin wrong, hustlin again He tried to be the next Frank White, and Escobar Pickin up coke a fiend holds it in a seperate car Cooks it up til it's bright white, cut it tight right Then he slings it to the fiends, lookin like Fright Night Coppin the motorbikes, the scooters, countin dough on computers High technology dealers, to the users and losers Half-leg DiDi, try to swap drug for TV's Stores run out of baking soda from BK to QB My niggaz die for the cause, .45 on the drawer City laws made by Big Nas and Biggie Smalls Bitches, holdin my weight in they titties and drawers My bitches out of state get bust while they pushin my cars Callin me up, callin me baller, call for they cut Pretty hoes bring me my cash, swallow all of this nut Seats on the Bent' stay nasty, push the dash for the stash box is where the cash be; watchin for task force Cause I know they comin but I'm reachin my goal Fuck bummin, I'm makin sure I leave this whole game wit somethin Crib in West Palms for my dime, crib for my moms Ridiculous, you lookin at the next Nicholas Barnes, baby Chorus (repeat to fade) |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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2:34 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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2:34 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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4:51 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Notorious B.I.G.] Uhh.. UHH Yeah.. Uhh.. uhh.. Uh! Yeah..
yeah.. Uhh.. I'm on.. Fuck em.. yeah, uhh.. With my hands gripped.. praise the Lord shit Fuck her, never knew her Screw her.. (dump her body, dump her body) sewer Our father.. uh- huh.. What you expected from his next of kin I'm loco bro, but ain't no Mexican I got nines in the bedroom, glocks in the kitchen A shotty by the shower if you wanna shoot me while I'm shittin Uhh, the lesson from the Smith and Wessun is depressin Niggaz keep stressin, the same motherfuckin question How many shots does it take, to make my heart stop and my body start to shake, if I should die before I wake Chorus: Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 2X) With my hands gripped.. praise the Lord shit Our father.. if I should die before I wake [Black Rob] Fluck that Snap a nigga shit, smash him with the fifth, watch his body lift Shut his hottie's lips, bitch screamin, hit her body quick Got me like the trifest not knowin how my life is My life is, rap sheet long as the Turnpike The sheistest, hey fella, who bidded with the lifers Did it with the glocks, spit it witcha pops, you was in diapers Loved me when you came to Rikers Hated me all in the free cypher; mad you can't be like us Some murderers who turn bikers -- see Biggie Smalls recruited these snipers -- alumni do it just like us Some pied pipers, squeezin life out y'all It's all out war, be all wild as all outdoor If a coward got beef, y'all be checkin his palm Paralyzin my niggaz thorough kid, how bout yours? Real quick to screw a nigga then, hop out four Clean the wipers, hit the party up and, hop out yours Bitch nigga.. whoah.. Chorus [Beanie Siegal] Yo when you fuckin wit Mac, you fuckin wit the best Still wall to wall with them dusty Tecs Man you know how I handle my shit, S.K. can on my shit Jump out of vans like Hannibal Smith Man I spit a thousand rounds, your squad don't need it Shredders in a riot pump leave you quadriplegic When I squeeze don't breathe keep it lined and even So when niggaz get hit, they be cryin screamin Lyin bleedin -- from that iron steamin And I ain't tryin to hear that bullshit, I ain't mean it Niggaz start bitchin, when that pistol in they face or I sick two puts to come and get you in your place If I catch you in my shit, I'm wakin my bitch Hear take this shit, crackin the brick, facin that shit Takin two sniffs, grabbin my shit Best believe if I get hit, y'all niggaz takin some shit Picture niggaz takin my shit Chorus [Ice Cube] Niggaz never thought they'd see Cube and Biggie in the year 2000, all drunk and pissy off whiskey, you can miss me, actin gay He's the King of New York, I'm the King of L.A. Doin it the O.G. way; it's sorta like the Brooklyn Way, it's just the crook in me So this is dedicated to the memory of the Notorious One, the glorious one And if you go for your gun, I got to go for mine Cock my nine, and seperate yo' head from yo' spine So, "Grab yo' dicks if you love hip-hop" and fuck you niggaz that shot Big Pop' The conspiracy, of this nation, for assassination of the young black male in this black hell And I can tell, no matter the weather that you and Tupac got yo' shit together California Love Chorus |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:24 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:22 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:19 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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3:19 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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5:03 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
Yeah this album is dedicated
to all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin' the people that lived above the buildings that I was hustlin' in front of that called the police on me when I was just tryin' to make some money to feed my daughters and all the niggaz in the struggle you know what I'm sayin' it's all good baby bay bee It was all a dream I used to read Word Up magazine Salt'n'Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine Hangin' pictures on my wall Every Saturday Rap Attack Mr Magic Marley Marl I let my tape rock 'til my tape popped Smokin' weed and bamboo sippin' on private stock Way back when I had the red and black lumberjack With the hat to match Remember Rappin' Duke duh ha duh ha You never thought that hip hop would take it this far Now I'm in the limelight 'cause I rhyme tight Time to get paid blow up like the World Trade Born sinner the opposite of a winner Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner Peace to Ron G Brucey B Kid Capri Funkmaster Flex Lovebug Starsky I'm blowin' up like you thought I would Call the crib same number same hood It's all good and if you don't know now you know nigga You know very well who you are Don't let em hold you down reach for the stars You had a goal but not that many 'cause you're the only one I'll give you good and plenty I made the change from a common thief To up close and personal with Robin Leach And I'm far from cheap I smoke skunk with my peeps all day Spread love it's the Brooklyn way The Moet and Alize keep me pissy Girls used to diss me Now they write letters 'cause they miss me I never thought it could happen this rappin' stuff I was too used to packin' gats and stuff Now honies play me close like butter played toast From the Mississippi down to the east coast Condos in Queens indo for weeks Sold out seats to hear Biggie Smalls speak Livin' life without fear Puttin' 5 karats in my baby girl's ears Lunches brunches interviews by the pool Considered a fool 'cause I dropped out of highschool Stereotypes of a black male misunderstood And it's still all good and if you don't know now you know nigga You know very well who you are Don't let em hold you down reach for the stars You had a goal but not that many 'cause you're the only one I'll give you good and plenty Super Nintendo Sega Genesis When I was dead broke man I couldn't picture this 50 inch screen money green leather sofa Got two rides a limousine with a chauffeur Phone bill about two G's flat No need to worry my accountant handles that And my whole crew is loungin' Celebratin' every day no more public housin' Thinkin' back on my one room shack Now my mom pimps a Ac' with minks on her back And she loves to show me off of course Smiles every time my face is up in The Source We used to fuss when the landlord dissed us No heat wonder why Christmas missed us Birthdays was the worst days Now we sip champagne when we thirstay damn right I like the life I live 'Cause I went from negative to positive And it's all and if you don't know now you know nigga You know very well who you are Don't let em hold you down reach for the stars You had a goal but not that many 'cause you're the only one I'll give you good and plenty and if you don't know now you know nigga Representin' B Town in the house Junior Mafia mad flavor You know very well who you are Don't let em hold you down reach for the stars You had a goal but not that many 'cause you're the only one I'll give you good and plenty |
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4:46 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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5:03 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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| from More Music From 8 Mile (8마일) [ost] (2003) | |||||
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4:31 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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4:31 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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2:44 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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2:43 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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4:46 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Kick In The Door
Welcome back. *audience applauds* We're here on Bad Boy television, and I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper. And quite frankly -- he's very mad. We're gonna TRY to find out why; so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience. Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name, and where you're from. Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle and, I just don't understand, why you so mad. (yo, yo) Like what are you so mad about? (yo, yo, y-y-yo) You wanna know why, yo first of all, yo first of all you can't be askin me no question knowhatI'msayin who the fuck is you? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper.) YouknowhatI'msayin? You can't be askin me no question (It's a family oriented show.) I'ma tell you why I'm mad, youknowhatI'msayin? I'ma tell you why I'm mad. I'ma tell you why I'm mad. These niggaz is makin five hundred thousand dollar videos, yunusayin? They drivin around in hot cars, yunusayin? They got bitches, they got all that shit. (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language.) YouknowhatI'msayin? I'm still livin with my MOMS, youknowhatI'msayin? That's my word. Yunusayin? I'm makin records I ain't made no money yet I done made this is my fourth album yo, this my FOURTH ALBUM. I ain't made a dime yet. This nigga made one album, he makin wild records. That Ready to Die shit, it was aight, it was aight, yunumsayin, that shit was aight, it was cool. But my shit is more John Blaze than that! I got John Blaze shit. And they not recognizing, they not sayin I recognize. And fuck is that, who is you to be askin me questions, youknowhatI'msayin? Who is you? *Mad Rapper fades out* [cut and scratched "I gots to talk. I gotta tell what I feel. I gotta talk about my life as I see it!"] Intro: repeat 2X ('Biggie' repeats every line of beat) This goes out to you This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you Verse One: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan Its that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White in tank-light totes, tote iron Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin Keep extra clips for extra shit Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap The mo shady, "Tell em!", Frankie baby Ain't no tellin where I may be May see me in D.C. at Howard Homecomin with my man Capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin You should know my steelo Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show to orgies with hoes I never seen befo' so, Jesus, get off the Notorious penis, before I squeeze and bust If the beef between us, we can settle it With the chrome and metal shit I make it hot, like a kettle get You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya? You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure Biggie, "How are you gonna do it?" Chorus: repeat 4X Kick in the door, wavin the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more Verse Two: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death Should I start your breath should I let you die In fear you start to cry, ask why Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick You cursed it, but rehearsed it I drop unexpectedly like bird shit You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them Son, I'm surprised you run with them I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click Take trips to Cairo, layin with yo bitch I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick When I see ya I'ma Chorus Verse Three: This goes out for those that choose to use Disrespectful views on the King of NY Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye Now ya Braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson Tote steel like Bronson, vigilante You wanna get on son, you need to ask me Ain't no other king in this rap thing They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren One shot, they disappearin Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit Took home, Ready to Die, listened, studied shit Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly make the white shake, thats why my money never funny And you still recoupin, stupid *echoes* |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Kick In The Door
Welcome back. *audience applauds* We're here on Bad Boy television, and I'm Trevin Jones and I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper. And quite frankly -- he's very mad. We're gonna TRY to find out why; so we'll take some questions at this point from our studio audience. Yes ma'am, please stand and state your name, and where you're from. Hi, my name is Shay, and I'm from New Rochelle and, I just don't understand, why you so mad. (yo, yo) Like what are you so mad about? (yo, yo, y-y-yo) You wanna know why, yo first of all, yo first of all you can't be askin me no question knowhatI'msayin who the fuck is you? (Ahh, excuse me, Mr. Rapper, Mr. Rapper.) YouknowhatI'msayin? You can't be askin me no question (It's a family oriented show.) I'ma tell you why I'm mad, youknowhatI'msayin? I'ma tell you why I'm mad. I'ma tell you why I'm mad. These niggaz is makin five hundred thousand dollar videos, yunusayin? They drivin around in hot cars, yunusayin? They got bitches, they got all that shit. (Sir, please, please, refrain from your foul language.) YouknowhatI'msayin? I'm still livin with my MOMS, youknowhatI'msayin? That's my word. Yunusayin? I'm makin records I ain't made no money yet I done made this is my fourth album yo, this my FOURTH ALBUM. I ain't made a dime yet. This nigga made one album, he makin wild records. That Ready to Die shit, it was aight, it was aight, yunumsayin, that shit was aight, it was cool. But my shit is more John Blaze than that! I got John Blaze shit. And they not recognizing, they not sayin I recognize. And fuck is that, who is you to be askin me questions, youknowhatI'msayin? Who is you? *Mad Rapper fades out* [cut and scratched "I gots to talk. I gotta tell what I feel. I gotta talk about my life as I see it!"] Intro: repeat 2X ('Biggie' repeats every line of beat) This goes out to you This goes out to you, and you, and you, and you Verse One: Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan Its that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White in tank-light totes, tote iron Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin Keep extra clips for extra shit Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap The mo shady, "Tell em!", Frankie baby Ain't no tellin where I may be May see me in D.C. at Howard Homecomin with my man Capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin You should know my steelo Went from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show to orgies with hoes I never seen befo' so, Jesus, get off the Notorious penis, before I squeeze and bust If the beef between us, we can settle it With the chrome and metal shit I make it hot, like a kettle get You're delicate, you better get, who sent ya? You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure Biggie, "How are you gonna do it?" Chorus: repeat 4X Kick in the door, wavin the four-four All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no more Verse Two: On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death Should I start your breath should I let you die In fear you start to cry, ask why Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word sick You cursed it, but rehearsed it I drop unexpectedly like bird shit You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money Don't forget the publishin, I punish em, I'm done with them Son, I'm surprised you run with them I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's sick Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click Take trips to Cairo, layin with yo bitch I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick When I see ya I'ma Chorus Verse Three: This goes out for those that choose to use Disrespectful views on the King of NY Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye Now ya Braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson Tote steel like Bronson, vigilante You wanna get on son, you need to ask me Ain't no other king in this rap thing They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren One shot, they disappearin Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit Took home, Ready to Die, listened, studied shit Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly make the white shake, thats why my money never funny And you still recoupin, stupid *echoes* |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
*Can I live til my last day
Hittin honies that be na-sty Gettin money in the fast way And I only care halfway But I still can't let you pass me Yo what's beef to you, three niggaz with hoodies and bats That ain't shit compared to one small cat with gats When we came here we cut off all kind circulation Breathin, eatin, the whole situation When we do our shit we do our shit for real While you take your money for your deal and make your own beats Compose your own sheets, that's aight but chill I'ma spend that mil and cop only hot shit Rock top shit you know how The Lox get Then you can see me flyin in the Bentley cockpit Lox and B-I, hold our grica down for years Gang not, but we been had our black tears Niggaz under the stairs only understand what we got Underground, all above must get shot You couldn't book me Dano, see Luciano put the burners to all y'all, what nigga bring it I'm callin y'all You already know what it's about when I run up in your house Put the gun up in your mouth and get the money out the couch Hearin you out is senseless, perhaps for instance I give this faggot a french kiss Black gloves, no prints, dark tints Word on the street they ain't heard from him since You know about life after kicked the kid in Since me and my mi-dan can flip seven gri-dams Scri-dam the flow is forbidd-en Either you ridin or you dyin cause we swingin iron Lox and Poppa, turning niggaz into Jim Hoffa Who gon stop us, it's your last joint double copper You gettin money or your runnin from the Feds Ain't nothin over here but sixteen and one in the head And I solemnly swear That all y'all niggaz out there got a problem this year *Repeat (x2) Before you think of keepin me down, heatin me down The flow like water get deepe and you drown with no soul, many niggaz roll with no dough Even the small Dunn got a little black hole Your destiny is somethin you can never figure out Niggaz is never happy til there's blood up in your mouth There's a lot of killers, but who the hell are you to play in this? A lot are dead, how the hell you take the pain? Live with it got money you better get with it My man had the thug in him did his bid with it Get married to the game but never have a kid with it Advice from the wise, slice the pies Too many schemes divides, when dreams collide Teams provide, war for the street to absorb Stashed in the ceiling and you slept on the floor Only a blind dove'll fall in love with a whore Uhh, uhh, uhh Who the fuck wanna squeeze? My Desert Ease make MC's freeze You wakin up in cold sweats, they just dreams You still apoligizin, analyzin, my size and your size and realizin, a fist fight would be asinine You just pop wines I must pop nines Genuine steel piece, nozzle in your grill piece You're shook up, two bricks, every cook up We can hook up, all I see is the future Disrespect, I shoot ya By the way, them bricks, get flipped weekly Sold by soldiers that mix weed with the leak leak Die for a dollar nigga, life ain't sweet Play for keeps wet shirts with experts on the creep I be the mob fiance, about to marry it Illegal transactions in Farragut with Arabics Why not, they fit twelve up in the bedroom Imagine what they stash is like, make you a classic like my first LP, beef with me is unhealthy Fuck around and get an ul-cer, loose your pulse or collapsed lung, look how many gats I brung For them homos, still doin promos Break both your legs you're movin slow-mo, got shined to glow mo' Nine hundred and ninety six grams, you need for mo' *Repeat |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
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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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Notorious B.I.G.] To my motherfuckin man 50 Grand, the
alcoholic man Inject a tall can in his bloodstream if he can Biggie Smalls, the pussy stroker MC provoker, chocolate thai smoker HEAR?? I like to max in Maximas and Acuras Your girl buttcheeks I'm smackin HER The raw rapper, spine snapper with the little hookers on my lap-ah You know the flavor Mack-ah A shy nigga but I ain't your fuckin comforter And if I ever fall in love I bet I'm fuckin her Ask the hooker, if I didn't jook her If she tried to front, then I drop the Chucky Booker on her {*singing*} Why you wanna.. play your games on me {*rapping*} Bitch, you crazy? Commitments, I'm Swayze, no time for the ill shit Rest with the niggaz on that real bloodspill shit My rap-pin tac-tics are drastic Stretchin motherfuckers like Mr. Fantastic So if you wanna see my pedigreeeee You better be, filled with energy, niggaz never gettin me So let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down Chorus: Craig Mack Hahhhh, AHHHHHHHH HAH Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Hahhhh boyeeeee, let me get down and funk em) Yo let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Yeah.. uh-huh.. yeah) Yo let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Yo I just wanna get em) [G-Dep] Yeah, yo Odds even, said shoot (blaow) Asked me the reason, and I said loot Man that's all I'm here for, therefore when death declares war, you know what to prepare for Shit, one for shelter, book flights on Delta Live on your station, the radiation'll melt ya Cool - I guess your momma raised a fool You didn't wanna blaze your tool shoulda stayed in school Rap terror, shots through your new era Get it together, y'all niggaz shoulda knew better I'm on point like acupuncture I might, track and hunt ya, smack and punch ya Left side, right side, witcha hoe I might slide Runnin wit this big guy, y'all niggaz is pranksters Don't make a nigga have to show you the pound and show you the sound, that'll put you low in the ground Just let me get down Chorus: Craig Mack Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (What? What?) Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (I just wanna funk a little bit) Yo let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Hahh.. I just wanna funk, what? Ahhhh) Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down [Missy] I be like WHAAAAT? Let me clear my throat Break the smoke, Missy gotta hit some high notes HEYYYYYY! Yo from coast to coast I burn like toast So dope that I floats through snow nig-guh Oh, you don't wanna bow to me The agony be like, "Somebody help me please!" Feel my pressure, never could a bitch flow better in any weather, I'm Biggie bangin ya nigga Ah-huh, I used to be the chick to lick the lollipop Now I pop through your body parts BLAOW, BLAOW, you like the way I interact Proceed to smack, any MC that's wack Ah-huh, microphone check one two I do ya tool, like them freaks run through your crew Give it to me, OHHHH, send it to me, OHHHH But before I get down, where's my money? Let me get down Chorus: Craig Mack Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Hahhh.. boyeee) Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (I just wanna funk a little bit) Yo let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (Hahh.. I just wanna funk) Let me get down, let me get down, let me get down, let me get down (The Mackalicious funk wanna get down.. boyeeeeeee, HAHHH, AHHHH-HAH Mack, feelin the funk) [Notorious B.I.G.] Bringin it live to you bitch ass niggaz |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997) | |||||
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Previously, on Ready to Die
*music fades in from "Suicidal Thoughts"* ... me and her sister had somethin goin on (Aiyyo, would you listen to me motherfucker?) I reach my peak, I can't speak Call my nigga Cheek, tell him that my will is weak (Aiyyo c'mon nigga, cut that) I'm sick of niggaz lyin, I'm sick of bitches hawkin (Aiyyo, yoyo Big, aiyyo chill) Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin *gunshot* *Life After Death piano and music comes in* (Aiyyo Big, aiyyo BIG!!) *heartbeat slows, sound of ambulence sirens* *piano plays on* *sound of pulse monitor and breathing machine* [Puff Daddy] Damn... we was spose to rule the world baby We was unstoppable! The shit can't be over, no The shit can't be over man I know you hear me nigga I know you hear me You got too much livin to do Too much unfinished business It ain't over *flatline* Live your life |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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