unknown

Verse one:

To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
Allow me to lace these lyrical dooches 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 got to 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 mck than craig and in the bed
Believe me sweetie i got enough to feed the needy
No need to be greedy, i got mad friends with benzes
C'notes by the layers, true fuckin players
Jump in the rover and come over
Tell your friends jump in thje gs3, i got the chronic by the tree

Chorus:

[ i love it when you call me big pop-pa] x3
Throw your hands in the air, if youse a tru playa
To the honies gettin money playin niggas like dummies
If you gun up in your waist, don't shoot up the place
Cause i see some ladies tonite who should be havin my ba-by,
Baybee, uh

Verse two:

Straight up honey really i'm asking
Most of these niggas think they me mackin', but they be acting
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 you what your interest are, who you be wit?
Things to make you smile, what number to dial
You gon' be here for a while, i'm gon' call my crew
You go call your crew
We can rendezvous at the bar around two
Or three o' clock, lil ceas pull the truck up out the parking lot
Roll the blunts cause he like to spark a lot
So we can steam on the way to the telly go fill my belly
A t-bone steak, cheese eggs, and welches grape
Conversate for a few, cause in a few, we gon' do
What we came to do, ain't that right boo( truuuue)
Forget the telly, we just go to the crib
And watch a moovae
In the jucuzae, bay-bay

Chorus

Verse three

[jermaine dupri]
How does a true playa live?
[b.i.g.]
Nigga, versace down
Donna karan, diamonds glarin'
Niggaz starin'
Now i got my pants draggin
In the benz wagon, raggin' sippin' d.p.
On my way to d.c.
The biggest willies
Smokin' phillies
Tying skunk together
Junior m.a.f.i.a. forever
Thuggin to say youngin and you knows that
I step in where the mo and the hoes at, baby
Niggaz know the better on the coogi sweater
Butter leather , chrome beretta see
You know who that nigga be

Outro: jermaine dupri

Shit you ain't know, ha ha, that's the stride for ninety-five baby
Straight up playerlistic mentality
You just do your thing, cause i'm definintley gone do mine
And we gon' hook up a lil later and do thing you never heard of
Can you feel me?

Chorus

Intro: puff daddy

(don't stop, i'm not finished yet [8x])
Do you ever ask yourself, when are they ever gonna stop?
Do you ever ask yourself, when are they gonna stop making those hits?
Do you ever ask yourself, when are they gonna stop making us dance?
Do you ever ask yourself,
When those bad boy are gonna stop making all this money?!

Verse one: styles paniro

I lick shots at intruders
Take the coke money and invest in computers
Tryin' to reach the next level, rolex with the ice bezel
Coming through the ghetto, in a porsche carrero
But for now i'll play the back of the cruiser
Light another sack for the three time losers
Pour out some beer, bust out the ruger
Ladies and gentleman
Bullets will leave you tremblin'
Shooken up
I got my cuban mommy cooking up
We got it all from heron to fishscale
New york to ismail get locked, i'm gettin' bail
My style is flashy like a fiver strobes
Going around the globe, hunnies wearing silk robes
Time to flip the script, bust the whip
Legend with the chip, dark blue with my trunk dipped
To the feds, catch me if you can
I'm a still transport with my man on the peter pan
Get there and bury the bricks in the sand
They think i want a tan, i'm sittin' on a hundred grand
So i can hit the boat and take a shower
Head back to the airport, and hide the money in the tower
Stack blocks by the keys
L to the o to the x you'll see

Chorus: puff daddy

Bad boy, bad boy, what you gonna do
What you gonna do when they come for you
(gun cocking) you'll see, (gun cocking) you'll se [2x]

Interlude: puff daddy

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

Verse two: jadakiss

Yeah aight then, you better act like you know
L to the o, x amount the flows
Ain't nothin' change but the range since i got the inf.
Dot on your head, take all your strength
Yeah, i'm in it for the green
I'll get up in your seam while i'm sonning you like a nigga from queens
My tape in your duel cassette running me
Tryin' to get in front of me playa, but you ain't gettin' none of me
Better off gunnin' me, with hot slugs numbing me
'cause you and i both know, the flow is coming b
When you want it? now or later?
I get mine and slide like a fresh pair of 'gators
With my mega click, involved in montega bricks
Niggaz is mega sick, and you know we roll mega thick
Up north where they bust your man
In the custom van, interrupt your plans
Now it's back to grams, damn, ain't that somethin'
All that for frontin', what you gonna do? nothin'
So let's keep things rationalized
Everything i write better nationalize
I'm into gettin' money, twistin' hunnies
Niggaz is buyin' coupes while you on the stoop lookin' funny
I'm a scorer, shorty love the whole aura
Pussy wasn't all that, that's why i never called her
It's all about quick whips and fast knicks
Gats with mad clips, tv's in your whips
My style tight like gotti when i touch you
Seasoned picatti, or versace joints with the buckle
Get the facts, i'm tryin' to get the beamer with the hatch
Cop one for my man, so ill shits match
Runnin' around all crazy twistin' hunnies back
And breakin' niggaz that come to gamble with small stacks
Really though, screw y'all, i never knew y'all
Your click be like yellow lights, i'm runnin' through y'all

Chorus

Verse three: sheek luchion

Yo, hard as it is to make a buck i ain't tryin' to get stuck
So i'm a keep handlin' beef like i don't give a fuck
It's all about respect tek-9's and papes
Big house in italy, in the yard with hunnies crushin' grapes
So i go down to my steam room and give a long prayer
Knowing that one day i'll be sheek luchion the mayor
Fatigued out in my house or office
Blunt spots and crooked cops can't grow shit so the town supports this
(uh-hun)
My staff rollin' in jags, cruisers, and coupes
Givin' rallies, and holdin' parades for the lifers groups
Now what you gon' do?
When they come for you
The same thing you been doing
Eye screwing
And bubble gum chewing (whoooh)
While me and my mans are pursuin'
Who you think the ladies are enhancin'
Rocking vansons i'm dancing in the mansion
So cheers to life of the ice in your chains and your watches
And you'll see how wo lock this

Chorus

Verse four: the notorious b.i.g.

Click, click, uh, uh, uh
Niggaz talkin' it but ain't livin' it
Crystal pops i'm sippin' it, mob hats and lizard shit
'gator trunks bitch, rollin' blunts with the williest of the willy
Hitchlin' cocked m-1's and nine millies
Stories like a motherfucker (that's right)
Model bitches wondering if i'm a fuck with her
She know i treats my bitches like ivana
Dolce and gabana
Dippin'
Big poppa never slippin'
H-class diamonds shinin'
Dinner with the wifey winin', dinin'
Smoking cigars in bogota
With colombian niggaz named panama
And englique and shit
Games we play life endin'
Bitches bending over with ease
For a pair of moschino jeans
And donna karan tank tops i got your bank stopped
Singles on top
Benjamins
Under the rest of 'em
Advancin'
>from duplex to mansion
Stashing keys hidin' g's overseas
Vcr's in my v's
Game elevates, money i make
Gets your stocks and real estates, bitch
Jet skiing in the caribean, white sands
Discusing plans with my mans
Dark blue land, smoke tint chrome rims and system
That leaves your rear views tremblin'
What you gonna do when poppa catch an attitude
Drop to your knees and show gratitude
Kiss my rings it's a frank white thing i stay potent
Bitch is devoted, take my dick and deep throat it

Outro:

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

fuck all you hoes) get a grip motherfucker.

Yeah, this album is dedicated to all the teachers that told me
I'd never amount to nothin', to all the people that lived above the
Buildings that i was hustlin' in front of that called the police on
Me when i was just tryin' to make some money to feed my daughters,
And all the niggaz in the struggle, you know what i'm sayin'?

Uh-ha, it's all good baby bay-bee, uh

Verse one:

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

Uh, and if you don't know, now you know, nigga, uh

Chorus:

You know very well who you are
Don't let em hold you down, reach for the stars
You had a go, but not that many
'cause you're the only one i'll give you good and plenty

Verse two:

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

Yeah
You're now entering the mode of the notorious biggie smalls
Junior m.a.f.i.a. clique, representing
This one going out to brooklyn
Ya'll know what time it is
It's going out to all the gangsters, all the pimps, players, hoes and bitches
Ya'll know what time it is
So this what i want ya'll to do
I want ya'll to grab your dutch masters and ya'll white owls and ya'll phillies
Umgh, get you a fat sack, pint of hennessy and lay back
Gonna do this one for my man mister cee, representing all day, every day
And all you other tape niggas and bootleggers, stay in the house
Cause brooklyn got this shit locked down
So any time you're ready mister cee
We gonna get hardcore on these homos

Like i said before, junior m.a.f.i.a. clique, hard-core
Uh, representing, biggie smalls in the house, uh, check it, uh
Biggie smalls is the wickedest
Niggas say i'm pussy, i dare you to stick your dick in this
If i was pussy i'd be filled with syphilis
Herpes, gonorrhea, climittia, getting rid'a ya
Got it locked like the penatentury
Niggas mention me for mc execution
Who you choosin, the wack mc
Or the fat black mc
Jack dempsey will start shaking
All it's taking, is some marijuana and i'm making
Mcs break fast, like flap-jacks and bacon
Back spins, the windmills, who's still the gin-drinker
Ill-thinker, exploding when the paper hits the ink-ugh
Take the gangster chronicles, turn to page 6-6-6
Holocost, b.i.g. the merciless
Niggas press they luck-and
They get a butt-fuckin
Straight up the ass
Raw dog with the rash
And i don't fuck with the condoms
The condoms is a problem from the aids getting sprayed
Diseases, b.i.g. pleases
Mcs across the seas is just the way, i crush my pray, hey
I'm crazy and deranged
Blowing niggas out the frame, simple and plain
But getting back, to the black, rhinocerisous rap
B.i.g. took a loss, hypopotheris is back, nigga

Recognize
Notorious biggie smalls, '94 ready to die

* apparently, uncensored versions exist, but my copy of oms is censored

One time, one time nigga one time! (where?)

Runnin' from the police (yeah i know what you mean)
No matter what i do, they got a nigga
Still runnin' from the police
(put them motherfuckin nike's on tight and get ghost y'all)

Verse one: dramacydal

I ain't got nuttin on my mind, but gettin in some trouble
Lickin shots to they block leavin bloody blood puddles
For some ridah delight, now we in a gunfight
I can shoot the gauge pebbles at the devils or die tonight
It's on me, but if i die bury me a motherfuckin g
A open casket on them bastards so they all remember me
With my vest on my chest, my tools and my piece
Thug life motherfucker gotta me runnin' from the *police*

Nigga, you know that's true
Catch a nigga like k-dog, chillin wit a crew
Every damn day parlay with my glass of re
The o.j. and it's all ok
To that fuckin fake *i shot*, got to play the man
Ran me down the block with my glass in my hand
Damn, i hope it don't spill
Nigga chill, shit is real cock back my steel

Still runnin' from the *police* i gets no sleep
I got you peepin in my window while i'm smokin indo
But i ain't no motherfuckin track star, *trator* got a jeep
Like big mouth, runnin through motherfuckers backyards
So i, grabs my piece before i flee
And instead of me runnin', these bitches is runnin' from me
Lick shots hits spots off on my piece
Cause a nigga like big mouth is through runnin' from the *police*

Interlude: don gargon ?? (some ragga toaster, this is a very rough guess)

I bust off! what about the time they pull me from the bronco
Lay, they tried to cock me, but them can't gun store
When a batty bwoy do it from the mob
Ahh, pull up your pants then you screw an left squad
Look around, look around, punk police
While gwan man doesn't a come but a bad boy test
Look around, look around, punk police
Me hafta blast back, cause de blast is best

Verse two: stretch, notorious b.i.g.

Yo i was, schemin and fiendin for loots and took the crooked route
To, ghetto fame i felt the pains and now i run the game
The insane brain, cold gettin fly like a plane
On them suckers with my nigga biggie smalls causin ruckus

Check it, i grew up a fuckin screwup
Got introduced to the game, got a ounce and fuckin blew up
Choppin rocks overnight
The nigga biggie smalls tryin ta turn into the black frank white

And we got the workers choppin rock, benz by the flock
And we gettin it, the dirty *pigs* jealous so they sweatin it
I'm lettin off smoke, hope they don't play me for no joke
And provoke the homicide, so just let the drama slide
We keepin it real, fuck how you feel, biggie pass the steel
Let's serve these motherfuckers slugs as a fuckin meal

We had to grow dreads to change our description
*tupac* on the milk box missin
Show they toes you know they got stepped on
A fist full of bullets a chest full of teflon
Run from the *police* picture that, nigga i'm too fat
I fuck around and catch a asthma attack (heavy breathing)
That's why i bust back, it don't phase me
When he drop, take his glock, and i'm swayze
Summer break, my escape, sold the glock, bought some weight
Laid back, i got some money to make, motherfucker

Interlude: don gargon ?? (again this is a very rough guess)

Now it's war, me tryin to sell, runnin from the punk po-lice
They try to cock me, but them can't gun store
What about they come to hold up me north
Pulled up the park, i left school and left buck
Look around, look around, punk police
Was about to blast with ya gun but you can't stop me
Look around, look around, punk police
Me haf to blast back, cause blast back best

Verse three: 2pac

They got me runnin' from the *four-five*
Duckin and dodgin in my survival
The benzo and i let off with my *nine milli*
I'm movin swifter than the next nigga, no time for sex
Cause in my mind all i wonder is who's next
Nigga, my homey slipped and now he pays the price
He did a driveby, sixteen, now he's doin triple life
Tell me is it me or my upbringin
I split that dove shit
Nigga motherfuck singin, i hope you got your timberlands
On tight, cause i ain't givin up
I'd rather duck these motherfuckers all night
I'm runnin' through the projects, beyotch
They'll never catch me
Cause i'm loc'd and trigger happy on the, sneotch
Don't say you never heard of me, til they murder me, i'm a legend
Do thug niggas go to heaven?
I'm rollin with the thorough heads
We gettin ghost on them hoes and yo
I got no love for the *motherfuckers* i'm runnin' from the police

Outro: don gargon ?? to fade