The Notorious B.I.G. Album

[Puff Daddy]
Push
C'mon Shorty stay push, c'mon
C'mon, c'mon push it's almost there
One more time, c'mon
*baby cries*
C'mon push baby, one more time
*baby cries*
Harder harder, push harder
Push, push, c'mon
One more time, here it goes!
I see the head!
Yeah c'mon!
YEAH! YEAHHHH!
You did it baby, yeah!

*Curtis Mayfield's "Super Fly" plays over this*

*Sugarhill Gang's "Rappers Delight" fades in*

... the hibby, the hibby dibby hip hop and ya don't stop!
Rock it out baby bubba, to the boogedy bang bang
The boogey to the boogedy beat
Now what you hear is not a test, I'm rappin, to the beat

*voice comes in over*
God damnit, what the fuck are you doin?
You can't control that god damn boy? (What?)
I just saw Ms. Jersey, he told me he caught the
motherfuckin boy and chopped him
(Get your black ass off!)
You can't control the god, I don't know
what the fuck to do with that boy
(What the fuck do you, whatta you do?)
If if you can't fuckin control him
(All you fuckin do is bitch at me)
Bitch, what I say, I'ma send his motherfuckin ass
to a group home goddamnit, what??
I'll smack the shit outta you bitch
(Take your black ass, the fuck outta here)
Motherfucker, you are fuckin up
(Comin in here, smellin like pile of shit, dumb motherfucker)

*Sugarhill fades out, Audio Two fades in*

Gizmo's cuttin, up for the
Suckers that's, down with me!

What nigga you wanna rob them motherfuckin trains you crazy?
B.I.G.: Yes, yes, motherfucker, motherfuckin right, nigga yes
Nigga what the fuck nigga? We gonna get...
B.I.G.: Nigga it's eighty-seven nigga, is you dead broke?
Yeah nigga but, but...
B.I.G.: Motherfucker is you broke motherfucker?
We need to get some motherfuckin paper nigga
Yeah but nigga it's a train ain't nobody robbed no motherfuckin train
B.I.G.: Just listen man, your mother givin you money nigga?
My moms don't give me shit nigga, it's time to get paid nigga
is you wit me? *gun clicks* Motherfuck is you wit me?
Yeah I'm wit you nigga c'mon
B.I.G.: Alright then nigga lets make it happen then
All you motherfuckers get on the fuckin floor! *blam blam*
Get on the motherfuckin floor!
B.I.G.: Chill, give me all your motherfuckin money
And don't move nigga!
B.I.G.: Give me all your motherfuckin money, I want the jewelry
Give me every fuckin thing
Nigga I'd shut the fuck up or I'ma blow your motherfuckin brains out!
Nigga, give me your jewerly, give me your wallet
B.I.G.: Fuck you bitch, get up off that shit
What the fuck you holdin on to that shit for bitch?

*Audio Two fades out, Snoop Dogg fades in*

Open C-74, Smalls

Mr. Smalls, let me walk you to the door
So how does it feel leavin us?
B.I.G.: C'mon man, what kind of fuckin question is that man?
Tryin to get the fuck up out this joint dog
Yeah, yeah, you'll be back
You niggaz always are
B.I.G.: Go head man, what the fuck is you hollerin about?
You won't see me up in this motherfucker no mroe
We'll see

[Verse One]
Remember back in the days, when niggaz had waves
Gazelle shades, and corn braids
Pitchin pennies, honies had the high top jellies
Shootin skelly, motherfuckers was all friendly
Loungin at the barbeques, drinkin brews
with the neighborhood crews, hangin on the avenues
Turn your pagers, to nineteen ninety three
Niggaz is gettin smoked G, believe me
Talk slick, you get your neck slit quick
Cause real street niggaz ain't havin that shit
Totin techs for rep, smokin blunts in the project
hallways, shootin dice all day
Wait for niggaz to step up on some fightin shit
We get hype and shit and start lifin shit
So step away with your fist fight ways
Motherfucker this ain't back in the days, but you don't hear me though

[Verse Two]
No more cocoa leave-io, one two three
One two three, all of this to me, is a mystery
I hear you motherfuckers talk about it
But I stay seein bodies with the motherfuckin chalk around it
And I'm down with the shit too
For the stupid motherfuckers wanna try to use Kung-Fu
Instead of a Mac-10 he tried scrappin
Slugs in his back and, that's what the fucks happenin
when you sleep on the street
Little motherfuckers with heat, want ta leave a nigga six feet deep
And we comin to the wake
To make sure the cryin and commotion ain't a motherfuckin fake
Back in the days, our parents used to take care of us
Look at em now, they even fuckin scared of us
Callin the city for help because they can't maintain
Damn, shit done changed

[Verse Three]
If I wasn't in the rap game
I'd probably have a key knee deep in the crack game
Because the streets is a short stop
Either you're slingin crack rock or you got a wicked jumpshot
Shit, it's hard being young from the slums
eatin five cent gums not knowin where your meals comin from
And now the shit's gettin crazier and major
Kids younger than me, they got the Sky grand Pagers
Goin outta town, blowin up
Six months later all the dead bodies showin up
It make me wanna grab the nine and the shottie
But I gotta go identify the body
Damn, what happened to the summertime cookouts?
Everytime I turn around a nigga gettin took out
Shit, my momma got cancer in her breast

Yeah
Motherfuckers better know... huh, huh
Lock your windows, close your doors
Biggie Smalls, huh... yeah
(*scratching* "I'm a bad, bad, boy..")

[Notorious B.I.G.]
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..")

[Chorus 8X]
Gimme the loot, gimme the loot
(*scratching* "I'm a bad, bad, boy..")

[Notorious B.I.G.]
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..")

[Chorus 8X]
Gimme the loot, gimme the loot
(*scratching* "I'm a bad, bad, boy..")

[Notorious B.I.G.]
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 trying to 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

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

{*sound of a pager going off*}

[Notorious B.I.G.]
Who the fuck is this? Pagin me at 5:46
in the mornin, crack of dawn an' {*dialing phone*}
now I'm yawnin - wipe the cold out my eye {*ring*}
See who's this pagin me - and why
It's my nigga Pop from the barbershop
Told me he was in the gamblin spot, and heard the intricate plot
of niggaz wanna stick me like flypaper neighbor
Slow down love, please chill, drop the caper
Remember them niggaz from the hill up in Brownsville?
That you rolled dice wit, smoked the blunts and got nice wit
Yeah my nigga Fame up in Prospect
Nah they're my niggaz nah love wouldn't disrespect
I didn't say them, they schooled me to some niggaz
that you knew from back when, when you was clockin minor figures
Now they heard you blowin up like nitro
And they wanna stick the knife through your windpipe slow
So - thank Fame for warnin me cause now I'm warnin you
I got the mac nigga tell me what you gonna do

[Chorus]
Damn! Niggaz wanna stick me for my paper
Damn! Niggaz wanna stick me for my paper
Damn! Niggaz wanna stick me for my paper
Damn! Niggaz wanna stick me for my paper

[Notorious B.I.G.]
They heard about the Rolex's and the Lexus
with the Texas license plates outta state
They heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown
And they heard you got half of Virginia locked down
They even heard about the crib you bought your moms out in Florida
The fifth corridor --
-- call the coroner!
There's gonna be a lot of slow singin, and flower bringin
if my burgular alarm starts ringin
Whatcha think all the guns is for?
All purpose war, got the Rottweilers by the door
And I feed 'em gunpowder, so they can devour
the criminals, tryin to drop my decimals
Damn! Niggaz wanna stick my for my cream
And it ain't a dream, things ain't always what it seem
It's the ones that smoke blunts witcha, see your picture
Now they wanna grab the guns and come and getcha
Betcha Biggie won't slip
I got the calico with the black talons loaded in the clip
So I can rip through the ligaments
Put the fuckers in a bad prediciment, where all the foul niggaz went
Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta
Fuck what I'ma hit you with you motherfuckers betta duck
I bring pain, bloodstains on what remains
of his jacket - he had a gun he shoulda packed it
Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket
So I can reload and EXPLODE on ya rasshole
I fuck around and get hardcore
C-4 to ya door no beef no more nigga
Feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
I don't give a fuck about you or your weak crew
What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you?
I'm not gunnin, nigga I bust my gun an'
hold on, I hear somebody comin...

{*night air, dogs barking*}

[Thieves talking]
(C'mon nigga) I'm only comin to pass the gat
(Just bring your motherfuckin ass on, come on)
Are we gettin close, huh?
(It's right over here)
Are you sure this Biggie Smalls crib man?
(Yeah I'm sure motherfucker, c'mon!)
Ahh fuck - it better be his motherfuckin house
Fuck right here..
This better be this motherfucker's house
(Oh shit!) What, what's wrong?
(It's that red dot on your head man!)
What red dot? .. Oh shit! You got a red dot on your head too!

f/ Puff Daddy (uncredited)

Yeah...
Yeah...
(You ready motherfucker?)
(We gon' kill your ass)

As I grab the glock, put it to your headpiece
One in the chamber, the safety is off release
Straight at your dome homes, I wanna see cabbage
Biggie Smalls the savage, doin your brain cells much damage
Teflon is the material for the imperial
mic ripper girl stripper the Henny sipper
I drop lyrics off and on like a lightswitch
Quick to grab the right bitch and make her drive
the Q-45, glocks and tecs are expected when I wreck shit
Respect is collected, so check it
I got techniques drippin out my buttcheeks
Sleep on my stomach so I don't fuck up my sheets, huh
My shit is deep, deeper than my grave G
I'm ready to die and nobody can save me
Fuck the world, fuck my moms and my girl
My life is played out like a jheri curl, I'm ready to die

As I sit back and look when I used to be a crook
Doin whatever it took from snatchin chains to pocketbooks
A big BAD motherfucker on the wrong road
I got some drugs tried to get the avenue sold
I want it all from the Rolexes
to the Lexus gettin paid, is all I expected
My mother didn't give me what I want, what the fuck?
Now I got a glock, makin motherfuckers duck
Shit is real, and hungry's how I feel
I rob and steal because that money got that whip appeal
Kickin niggaz down the steps just for rep
Any repercussion lead to niggaz gettin wet
The infrared's at your head real steady
You better grab your guns cause I'm ready, ready

I'm ready to die!
(Nah we ain't gon' kill your ass yet)
(We gonna make you suffer)

In a sec I throw the tec to your fuckin neck
Everybody hit the deck, Biggie bout to get some wreck
Quick to leave you in a coffin, for slick talkin
You better act like CeCe, and keep on walkin
When I hit ya, I split ya to the white meat
You swung a left you swung a right you feel to the concrete
Your face, my feet, they meet, we're stompin
I'm rippin MC's from Tallahassee, to Compton
Biggie Smalls on a higher plane
Niggaz say I'm strange deranged because I put the 12 gauge to your brain
Make your shit splatter
Mix the blood like batter then my pocket gets fatter
after the hit, leave you on the street with your neck split
down your backbone to where your motherfuckin shit drip
The shit I kick, rip it through the vest
Biggie Smalls passin any test, I'm ready to die!

I'm ready
(Time to go, we gonna put you out your misery motherfucker)
Niggaz definitely know what time it is
The Notorious one in full effect
for ninety-three!
Suicidal, I'm ready!

(Now I lay me down to sleep)
Yeah
(Pray the Lord my soul to keep)
(If I should die before I wake)
(I pray the Lord my soul to take)
(Cause I'm ready to die)

(All y'all motherfuckers come with me if you want to)

(Biggie Smalls the biggest man)
(Rockin on and on in ninety-three, Easy Mo Bee)
(Third Eye, and the rest of the Bad Boy fam)

*Sound of phone hanging up
*Biggie's daughter:
All you hoes, callin' here for my daddy get off his dick.
Like that Mommy?

(Answering machine beep in between each message and the beat to "One
More Chance in the background.)

Message 1:
Hi daddy, how you doin', this is Tyiest, I was thinkin' about you last
night, mmm, you actin' like you can't call me no more cause you busy and
all that, but you tryina tell me it wasn't good?

Message 2:
That shit is real fucked up what you did, I hooked you up wit my girl
and shit you fucked her 8 times you see her you don't say SHIT to her
you know what I'm sayin? And all that bitch do is call me all day
talkin' bout you: "Why the fuck do he don't want me?"

Message 3:
Yo Big this is Quita, Kenya told me she saw you and Shana in the mall
and I know you aint fuckin' her. You fucked with me last night that's my
best friend and we don't get down like that.

Message 4:
Yeah muthafucka this is Stephanie, I was waitin' outside for your ass
for like a fuckin' hour, I don't know what's goin on, muthafuckas tryina
raw me, you be dissapearin' and shit I'm waitin' in the cold, what the
fuck is goin' on, when you get in give me a fuckin' call, alright?

When it comes to sex, I'm similar to the thriller in Manila
Honeys call me Bigga the condom filler
Whether it's stiff tongue or stiff dick
Biggie squeeze it to make shit fit, now check this shit
I got the pack of Rough Riders in the back of the Pathfinder
You know the ep along by James Todd Smith
I get swift with the lyrical gift
Hit you with the dick, make your kidneys shift
Here we go, here we go, but I'm not Domino
I got the funk flow to make your drawers drop slow
So recognize the dick size in these Karl Kani jeans
I'm in thirteens, know what I mean
I fuck around and hit you with the Hennessey dick
Mess around and go blind, don't get to see shit
The next batter, here to shatter your bladder, it doesn't matter
Skinny or fat or white-skinned or black, baby I drop
These boricua mommies screamin "Aiy papi!"
I love it when they call me Big Poppa
I only smoke blunts if they roll propa
Look, I gotcha caught up in the drunk flow
Fuck tae kwon do, I tote da fo'-fo'
For niggaz gettin mad cause they bitch chose me
A big black motherfucker with g ya see
All I do is separate the game from the truth
Big bang boots from the Bronx to Bolivia
Gettin Physical like Olivia Newt
Tricks suck my clique dick all day with no trivia
So gimme a hoe, a bankroll and a bag of weed
I'm guaranteed to fuck her till her nose bleed
Even if your new man's a certified mack
You'll get that H-town in ya, you'll want that old thing back

Oh Biggie gimme one more chance
I got that good dick girl, ya didn't know
(Repeat)

Is my mind playin tricks, like Scarface and Bushwick
Willie D, havin nightmares of girls killin me
She mad because what we had didn't last
I'm glad because her cousin let me hit the ass
Fuck the past let's dwell on the 500 SL, the E and J and ginger ale
The way my pockets swell to the rim with Benjamins
Another hon's in the crib, please send her in
I fuck nonstop, lick my lips alot, used to lick the clits alot
But lickin clits had to stop
Cause y'all don't know how to act when the tongue go down below
Peep the funk flow, really though
I got the cleanest meanest penis, ya never seen this stroke of genius
So take off your Tim boots and your bodysuit
I mean the spandex and hit my man next
Sex gettin rougher when it come to the nut buster
Pussy crusher, black nasty motherfucker
I don't chase em, I replace em
and if I'm caressin em, I'm undressin em
Fuck whatcha heard who's the best in New York
For fillin fantasies without that nigga Mr. Rourke?
Or Tattoo I got you wrapped around my dick
And when I'm done I got to split shit
Back shots is my position, I gotcha wishin for an intermission
Fuck the kissin, lickin down to your belly button, I ain't frontin
They don't call me B.I.G. for nuttin, all of a sudden

Oh Biggie gimme one more chance
I got that good dick girl you didn't know

(Jodeci song playing in the background, sound of head board banging
against the wall, and Biggie grunting)

Woman moaning, uh, yeah, uh, oooh, oh yeah, mmm, yeah
Oh fuck me you black mothafucka, oooohh yeah!!! MMMMMM, Aaahhh
Oh fuck me you black Kentucky Fried Chicken eatin'
Ohhh, ooohhh, yeah
You mothafuckin' gangsta killin', mutha fuckin black mafia ass
Muthafuckin, you, ohhhhh my god
You chronic smokin', Oreo cookie eatin', pickle juice drinkin'
Chicken gristle eatin', biscuit suckin', MUTHAfucka
V8 juice drinkin', slim fast, black greasy muthafucka
OOOHHHHH
Biggie: Whats my name?
Woman: Biggie!
Biggie: Whats my name?
Woman: Biggie!

Oh yeah
(Sound of Biggie and the woman falling off the bed)

Biggie: I'm sorry.
Woman: Ahhhh....
Biggie: Oh shit. Damn.
Woman: (laughing) Jenny Craig eatin' muthafucka

f/ Method Man

Verse One: Notorious, Meth

I used to get feels on a bitch
Now I throw shields on the dick
To stop me from that HIV shit
And niggaz know they soft like a Twinkie filling
Playin the villian
Prepare for this rap killin
Biggie Smalls is the illest
Your style is played out, like Arnold wondered
"What you talkin bout Willis?"
The thrill is gone, the black Frank White
is here to excite and
throw dick to dykes
Bitches I like em brainless
Guns I like em stainless steel
I want the fuckin Fortune like the Wheel
I squeeze gats till my clips is empty
Don't tempt me [T-H-O-D
Man] You don't want to fuck with Biggie

Here I am, I'll be damned if this ain't some shit
Come to spread the butter lyrics over hominy grit
It's the low killer death trap, yes I'm a jet black ninja
Comin where you rest at, surrender
Step inside the ring, youse the number one contender
Lookin cold booty like your pussy in December
Nigga stop bitchin, button up ya lip and
From Method all you gettin is a can of ass-whippin
Hey, I'll be kickin, you son, you doin all the yappin
Actin as if it can't happen
You front and got me mad enough to touch somethin
Yo I'm from Shaolin, Island, and ain't afraid to bust somethin
So what cha want nigga, ya punk nigga
I got a six-shooter and a horse named Trigger
It's real, ninety-four, rugged raw
Kickin down your god damn door [and it goes a lil somethin like this]

Chorus:

Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit
And everything you get ya gotta work hard fot it
Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop
And niggaz pack the clips, keep on

Verse Two: Meth, Notorious

Verse two, comin with that Olde E brew
Meth-tical, puttin niggaz back in I.C.U.
I'm lifted troop, you can bring yours wack ass crew
I got connections, I'll get that ass stuck like glue, huh
No question, I be comin down and shit
Yo I gets rugged as a motherfuckin carpet get
And niggaz love it, not in the physical form but in the mental
I spark and they cells get warm
I'm not a gentle, man, I'm a Method, Man!
Baby accept it, utmost respect it
[Assume the position] Stop look and listen
I spit on your grave then I grab my Charles Dickens

Welcome to my center
Honies feel it deep in they placenta
Cold as the pole in the winter
Far from the inventor, but I got this rap shit sewed
And when my Mac unloads
I'm guaranteed another video
Ready to die, why I act that way?
Pop Duke left Mom Duke
The faggot took the back way
So instead of makin hoes suck my dick up
I used to do stick-up
Cause hoes is irritatin like the hic-CUPS
Excuse me, flows just grow through me
Like trees to branches
Cliffs to avalanches
It's the praying mantis
Deep like the mind of Farrakhan
A motherfuckin rap phenomenon, plus

[I got more glocks and techs than you]
I make it hot [Nigga won't even stand next to you]
Nigga touch me you better bust me
tree times in the head
Or motherfucker's dead, ya thought so

Intro:

(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
Lunches, brunches, interviews by the pool
Considered a fool 'cause I dropped out of high school
Stereotypes of a black male misunderstood
And it's still all good

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

Verse Three:

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 thirst-ay
Uh, damn right I like the life I live
'Cause I went from negative to positive
And it's all...

(It's all good)

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

Representin' B-Town in the house, Junior Mafia, mad flavor, uh

Chorus: Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 2X)

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

[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 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

Chorus

[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
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

[Puff] Hah.. c'mon.. what you say?

Chorus 2X

[Notorious B.I.G.]
Uhh, uhh
Junior M.A.F.I.A., right (yeah..)
(rock on..)

f/ Puff Daddy (uncredited)

[Puff Daddy]
Yo let, let, let me ask you a question yo
Yo would you kill for me?
[Girl]
Hmmm... yeah
[Puff Daddy]
What took you so long to answer motherfucker?
[Girl]
I don't know
[Puff Daddy]
The fuck wrong with you bitch?

Verse One: Notorious B.I.G.

When I met you I admit my first thoughts was to trick
You look so good huh, I suck on your daddy's dick (yeah)
I never felt that way in my life
It didn't take long before I made you my wife (uh, yeah)
Got no rings and shit, just my main squeeze
Come into the crib, even had a set a keys
During the days you helped me bag up my nickels
In the process, I admit, I tricked a little (yeah)
But you was my bitch, the one who'd never snitch (uhh)
Love me when I'm broke or when I'm filthy fuckin rich
And I admit, when the time is right, the wine is right
I treat you right, you talk slick, I beat you right

Chorus: Notorious B.I.G.

Just me and my bitch (variations repeat to next verse)

[Girl]
But you know you love that ass, don't you?
[Puff Daddy]
Yeah, no question
[Girl]
No question
[Puff Daddy]
Yo, let me ask you another question
[Girl]
What?
[Puff Daddy]
You ever fuck around on me?
[Girl]
Why would I do that?
[Puff Daddy]
Yo don't lie to me motherfucker

Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.

Moonlight strolls with the hoes, oh no, that's not my steelo
I wanna bitch that like to play celo, and craps
Packin gats, in a Coach bag steamin dime bags
A real bitch is all I want, all I ever had (yeah, c'mon)
With a glock just as strong as me
Totin guns just as long as me, the bitch belongs with me
Any plans with another bitch, my bitch'll spoil it
One day, she used my toothbrush to clean the toilet (that's nasty)
Throwin my clothes out the windows, so when the wind blows
I see my Polos and Timbos
Hide my car keys so I can't leave
A real slick bitch, keep a trick up her sleeve
And if I deceive, she won't take it lightly
She'll invite me, politely, to fight G
And then we lie together, cry together
I swear to God I hope we fuckin die together

Chorus

[Girl]
Let me tell you nigga, if I ever, ever catch your ass fuckin around
I'ma cut your mother-fuckin dick off
[Puff Daddy]
Hah, heheh stop playin, hah
[Girl]
I ain't playin, ain't no jokes, ain't no jokes
Ain't no jokes
[Puff Daddy]
Yo, don't don't play with my dick

Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G.

She helped me plan out my robberies on my enemies
Didn't hesitate to squeeze, to get my life out of danger (yeah)
One day, she put nine one one on the page
Had to call back, whether it's minor or major (yeah)
No response, the phone just rung
Grab my vest, grab my gun, to find out the problem
When I pulled up, police was on the scene
Had to make the U-turn, make sure my shit was clean
Drove down the block, stashed the burner in the bushes
Stepped to police with the shoves and the pushes
It didn't take long before the tears start
I saw my bitch dead with the gunshot to the heart
And I know it was meant for me
I guess the niggaz felt they had to kill the closest one to me (uh, yeah)
And when I find em your life is to and end
They killed my best friend... me and my bitch

Chorus

Uh, yeah, yeah
Uh...

f/ Puff Daddy

[B.I.G.] + (Puffy)
Uh, uh, check it out (yeah)
Junior M.A.F.I.A. (hehe, mmm)
Uhh (I like this)
Yes, yes! Nine-fo' (keep bangin)

[Verse One]
To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
Allow me to lace these lyrical douches, 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

[Chorus: Notorious B.I.G.]
"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 (why?)
Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby; bay-bee

[Verse Two]
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

[Chorus]

[Verse Three]
(How ya livin Biggie Smalls?) 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 lye an' 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, Coogi sweater now
Drop top BM's, I'm the man girlfriend

[Puff Daddy]
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

[Chorus]

[Notorious B.I.G.]
Uh, check it out
Nine-fo' shit for dat ass
Puff Daddy, Biggie Smalls, Junior M.A.F.I.A

Verse 1

Nineteen-seventy somethin', nigga I don't sweat the date
My moms is late so I had to plan my escape
out the skins, in this world of fly girls
Tanqueray and Hennessy until I cold hurl
Ten months in this gut, what the fuck
I wish moms'd hurry up so I could get buck
wild, juvenile rippin' mics and shit
New York New York, ready for the likes of this, uh
Then came the worst date, May 21st
2:19, that's when my momma water burst
No spouse in the house so she rode for self
to the hospital, to see if she could get a little help
Umbilical cord's wrapped around my neck
I'm seein' my death and I ain't even took my first step
I made it out, I'm bringin' mad joy
The doctor looked and said, "He's gonna be a Bad Boy"

Verse 2

Now I'm thirteen, smokin' blunts, makin' cream
On the drug scene, fuck a football team
Riskin' ruptured spleens by the age of sixteen
Hearin' the coach scream at my lifetime dream, I mean
I wanna blow up, stack my dough up
So school I didn't show up, it fucked my flow up
Mom said that I should grow up and check myself
before I wreck myself, disrespect myself
Put the drugs on the shelf? Nah, couldn't see it
Scarface, King of New York, I wanna be it
Rap was secondary, money was necessary
Until I got incarcerated--kinda scary
C74-Mark 8 set me straight
Not able to move behind the great steel gate
Time to contemplate, damn, where did I fail?
All the money I stacked was all the money for bail

Verse 3

Ninety-four, now I explore new horizons
Mama smile when she see me, that's surprisin'
Honeys is tantalizin', they freak all night
Peep duckin' cops on the creep all night
As I open my eyes and realizin' I changed
Not the same deranged child stuck up in the game
And to my niggas livin' street life
Learn to treat life to the best, put stress to rest
Still tote your vest man, niggas be trippin'
In the streets without a gat? Nah, nigga you're slippin'
If I'm pimpin on The F with weed on my breath
Original hustler with the muffler on the Tec
Respect to the Mac's and the Ac's

[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

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

(RING, RING)

(Hello? Aw shit, nigga. What the fuck time is it, man?
Oh god damn. Nigga do you know what time it is?
Aw shit, what the fuck's goin' on? You alright?
Aw, nigga what the fuck is wrong wit you?)

When I die, fuck it I wanna go to hell
Cause I'm a piece of shit, it ain't hard to fuckin' tell
It don't make sense, goin' to heaven wit the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Tims and black hoodies
God will probably have me on some real strict shit
No sleepin' all day, no gettin my dick licked
Hangin' with the goodie-goodies loungin' in paradise
Fuck that shit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
All my life I been considered as the worst
Lyin' to my mother, even stealin' out her purse
Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion
I know my mother wished she got a fuckin' abortion
She don't even love me like she did when I was younger
Suckin' on her chest just to stop my fuckin' hunger
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes?
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies
My babies' mothers 8 months, her little sister's 2
Who's to blame for both of them (naw nigga, not you)
I swear to God I just want to slit my wrists and end this bullshit
Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit
And squeeze, until the bed's, completely red
I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fuckin' buddah head
The stress is buildin' up, I can't,
I can't believe suicide's on my fuckin' mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin' callin' me
Naw you wouldn't understand (nigga, talk to me please)
You see its kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I cross over, there ain't no comin' back
Should I die on the train track, like Remo in Beatstreet
People at the funeral frontin' like they miss me
My baby momma kissed me but she glad I'm gone
She knew me and her sista had somethin' goin' on
I reach my peak, I can't speak,
call my nigga Chic, tell him that my will is weak.
I'm sick of niggas lyin', I'm sick of bitches hawkin',
matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'.
(BANG)