Intro: Notorious B.I.G.
One one two
Check me out right here yo
Verse One: Puff Daddy
Yo the sun don’t shine forever
(BIG: You can turn the track up a little bit for me)
Turn me up yo
Can you here me?
But as long as it’s here then we might as well shine together
(BIG: All up in my ears)
Better now than never business before pleasure
(BIG: The mic is loud but the beats isn’t loud)
P-Diddy and the Fam, who you know do it better?
Yeah right, no matter what, we air tight
(BIG: YEAH!)
So when you hear somethin, make sure you hear it right
Don’t make a ass outta yourself, by assumin
(BIG: YEAH! Now the mic is lower, turn the mics up)
Our music keeps you movin, what are you provin?
(BIG: Turn that shit all the way up, yeah)
You know that I’m two levels above you baby
(BIG: Music’s gettin louder)
Hug me baby, I’ma make you love me baby
(BIG: This shit is hot!)
Talkin crazy ain’t gonna get you nuthin but choked
(BIG: Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)
And that jealousy is only gonna leave you broke
So the only thing left now is God for these cats
And BIG you know you too hard for these cats
I’m a win cause I’m too smart for these cats
While they makin up facts (uhh) you rakin up plats
Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.
In a Commision, you ask for permission to hit em
He don’t like me, him and wild wifey was wit em
You heard of us, the murderous, most shady
Been on the low lately, the feds hate me
The son of satan
They say my killin’s too blatant
You hesitatin, I’m in your mama crib waitin
Duct tapin, your fam destiny
lays in my hands, gat lays in my waist
Francis, M to the iz-H phenominal
Gun rest under your vest by the abdominal
Rob a few bars so I can buy a few cars
And I kick a few flows so I can pimp a few hoes
Excellence is my presence, never tense
Never hesitant, leave a nigga bent real quick
Real sick, brawl nights, I perform like Mike
Anyone — Tyson, Jordan, Jackson
action, pack guns, ridiculous
And I’m, quick to bust, if my ends you touch
Kids or girl you touch, in this world I clutch
Two auto-matoes, used to call me fatso
Now you call me Castro, my rap flows
militant, y’all faggots ain’t killin shit
Ooops Cristal keep spillin shit, you overdid it homes
You in the danger zone, you shouldn’t be alone
Hold hands and say it like me
The most shady, Frankie baby, fantastic
Graphic, tryin to make dough, like Jurassic
Parked in quick to spark kids who start shit
See me, only me
The Underboss of this holocaust
Truly yours, Frank White
Chorus: Busta Rhymes
We got the real live shit from front to back
To my people in the world, where the fuck you at?
Where my niggaz is at? (2X)
Where the fuck my bitches at?
Where my bitches is at?
(repeat all 2X)
Verse Three: Puff Daddy
Put your money on the table and get your math on
Break it down, split it up, get your laugh on
See you later Dog, I’ma get my stash on
There’s a bed full of money that I get my ass on
I never lose the passion to go platinum
Said I’d live it up til all the cash gone
Ain’t that funny, only use plastic, craft it
to make classics, hotter than acid
P-D, rollin on your tape or CD
The Billboard killa, no team illa
The Fam-o, ammo, is every channel
We been hot for a long time burnin like a candle
What you can do is check your distribution
My songs bump in Houston like Scarface produced em
You ain’t gotta like me, you just mad
Cause I tell it how it is, and you tell it how it might be
Verse Four: Notorious B.I.G.
We got the shit, Mac tight, brass knuckles and flashlights
The heaers in the two-seaters, with two midas
Senoritas, kiss rings when you meet us
P-Diddy run the city, show no pity
I’m the witty one, Frank’s the crook fro
Verse One:
Live from Bedford-Stuyverson, the livest one
Representin BK to the fullest
Gats I pull it, bastards duckin when Big be buckin
Chickenheads be cluckin in my bathroom fuckin
It ain’t nuttin, they know Big be handlin
with the mac in the Ac’ door paneling
Bandaging MC’s, oxygen they can’t breathe
Mad tricks up the sleeve, red boxers so my dick can breathe
Breeze through in the Q-45 by my side, lyrical high
And those that rushes my cluthes get put on crutches
Get smoked like dutches from the master
Hate to blast ya, but I have ta, you see I smoke a lot
Your life is played out like Kwame, and them fuckin polka dots
Who rock the spot? Biggie!
You know how the weed yo, unbelievable
Verse Two:
B-I-G, G-I-E, AKA, B.I.G.
Get it? Biggie
Also known as the bon appetit
Rappers can’t sleep need sleepin Big keep creepin
Bulelts heat-seekin, casualties need treatin
Dumb rappers need teachin
Lesson A – don’t fuck with B-I, that’s that, oh I, thought he was wack
Oh come come now, why y’all so dumb now
Hunt me or be hunted, three hundred and fifty-seven ways
To summer sautee, I’m the winner all day
Lights get dimmer down Biggie’s hallway
My forte causes caucausians to say
He sounds demented, car-weed scented
If I said it, I meant it
Bite my tongue for no-one
Call me evil, or unbelievable
Verse Three:
Buck shots out the sun roof of Lexus Coupe’s
Leave no witnesses, what you think this is
Ain’t no amateurs here, I damage and tear
MC’s fear me, they too near not to hear me
Clearly, I’m the triple beam dream
One thousand grams of uncut to the gut
It seems fucked up, the way I touched up the grill
Tryin to play gorilla, when you ain’t no killer
The gat’s by your liver, your upper lip quiver
Get ready to die, tell God I said hi
And throw down some ice, for the nicest MC
Niggaz know the steelo, unbelievable
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Uhh I go on and on and on and
we’ll take um to the crib and let your bone in
Easy call em on the phone and
platinum Chanel cologne and
I stay dressed to impress
Spark these bitches interest
Sex is all I expect
if they watch TV in the Lex they know
They know quarter past fo’
Left the club tipsy say no mo’
except how I’m gettin home tomorrow
Caesar drop you off when he see his P.O. uhh
Back of my mind I hope she swallow (uh-huh)
Man, she spilled a drink on my cream Wallows
Reach the gate, hungry just ate
Riffin, she got to be to work by eight
This must mean she ain’t tryin to wait
Conversate, sex on the first date I state
“You know what you do to me”
She starts, “Well but I don’t usually”
then I, whipped it out, rubber no doubt
Step out, show me what you all about
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
And I don’t stop, until I squirt
Jeans skirt butt-naked it all work
I remember we, went to Tennessee
Then we came home, mad messages was on my phone
Bitch named Symone
Screamin, she feenin, for the semen
Me bein, the man that I am
Took her to her condo, pronto
Half indian, I called her Tonto
Rolled a crom-crom in the dark, pronto
Few puffs, eyes got low
and off to the bedroom we go *mmmmmm*
Sex is drama, head to trauma
Rip pajamas I’ma stay to tomorrow
Satisfyin all my needs twice
With some whipped cream, handcuffs and ice
The bitch is nice, word is born
Can’t wait to put my niggaz on, what, what?
Ladies, my Mercedes
Hold fo’ in the back, two if it’s fat
Keep a gat, for cats that try to test me
They just fans like DeNiro, Wesley
Let’s see, the bitch I’m waitin on
Gaudy years jeans look like they painted on
Ask thee, leave it up to me
Lay her on back ever so gently
She like the way the dope fold up, Rolls roll up
Cristal just throw up, bitch grow up
Hold up, there’s DeGenero
Dripped out, iceberg Capero
Intro goes without speaking
Call me Caese cause I keep em, we can go freakin
all weekend, so, roll in
Ain’t it good that my Lex seats foldin? Uhh
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Verse One:
So you wanna be hardcore
With your hat to the back, talkin bout the gats in your raps
But I can’t feel that hardcore appeal
that you’re screamin, baby I’m dreamin
This ain’t Christopher Williams, still some
MC’s got to feel one, caps I got to peel some
To let niggaz know… that if you fuck with Big-and-Heavy
I get up in that ass like a wedgie
Says who? Says me, the lyrical
Niggaz sayin, “Biggie off the street, it’s a miracle”
Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me
Just for niggaz actin shifty
Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat’ll kill you quicker
Especially when I’m drunk off the liquor
Smokin funk by the boxes, packin glocks is
natural to eat you niggaz like chocolates
The funk baby
Chorus (repeats 8X)
“I live for the funk, I’ll die for the funk” (LOTUG, Chief Rocka)
Verse Two:
All I want is bitches, big booty bitches
Used to sell crack, so I could stack my riches
Now I pack gats, to stop all the snitches
from stayin in my business, what is this? Relentless
approach, to know if I’m broke or not
Just cause I joke and smoke a lot
Don’t mean I don’t tote the glock
Sixteen shots for my niggaz in the pen
Until we motherfuckin meet again
Huh, I’m doin rhymes now, fuck the crimes now
Come on the ave, I’m real hard to find now
Cause I’m knee deep in the beats
In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the Mac-10 by the seats
For the jackers, the jealous ass crackers in the (car sirens)
I’ll make you prove that it’s bulletproof
Hold ya head, cause when you hit the bricks
I got gin, mad blunts, and bitches suckin dick
The funk baby
Repeat chorus
Verse Three:
So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side
How I smoked funk, smacked bitches on the backside
Bed-Stuy, the place where my head rests
Fifty shot clip if a nigga wan’ test
The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya
High as a motherfuckin helicopter
That’s why I pack a nina, fuck a misdeameanor
Beatin motherfuckers like Ike beat Tina
[What’s Love, Got to Do]
when I’m rippin all through your whole crew
Strapped like bamboo, but I don’t sling guns
I got bags of funk, and it’s sellin by the tons
Niggaz wanna know, how I live the mack life
Making money smoking mics like crack pipes
It’s type simple and plain to maintain
I add a little funk to the brain
The funk baby
Repeat chorus |
* to the beat of and styled after Schoolly D’s “P.S.K. What Does it Mean?”
Yo
C-Gutta where you at?
D Rockafella
Caesar Leo Degenero
Bled C
Money SL
Uhh…
B.I.G. is making this cream
Bitches always say what the hell does that mean?
B is for the bitches, who can’t understand
How one fly nigga became a man
I is for the way it goes in and out
One by one I knocks em out
G is for the way the game goes in the gutter
Other MC’s man they ain’t sayin nuthin
Rockin on, to the break of dawn
Make the bitch give the pussy get the mouth I’m gone
What?
It ain’t no more to it |
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