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5:26 |
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from Puff Daddy - No Way Out (1997)
Uhh, check it out, uhh
*singing* I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee! Fuck all that pretty shit Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers Niggaz know the deal Niggaz know who the Don is Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one Peep game, uhh, what, what Verse One: Puff Daddy Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars We built them radars to stay free from the cops Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke Your squad arti-choke Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre Through hard work I earn the vault Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake When you all fucked up, and can't get no break When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit That's what I did, now they all askin for hits Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us Why niggaz bring the ruckus? Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers Chorus: |
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4:53 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil -- for you are with me Your rod and your staff, they comfort me You prepare a table for me, in the presence of my enemies You annoint my head with oil, my cup overflows Surely goodness and love will follow me -- all the days of my life And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever Niggaz in my faction don't like askin questions Strictly gun testin, coke measurin Givin pleasure in the Benz-ito Hittin fanny, spendin chips at Manny's Hope you creeps got receipts, my peeps get dirty like cleats Run up in your crib, wrap you up in your Polo sheets Six up in your wig piece, nigga decease MWA, may you rest in peace With my Sycamore style, more sicker than yours Four-four, and fifty-four draw as my pilot, steers my Leer, yes my dear Shit's official, only, the Feds I fear Here's a tissue, stop your blood clot cryin The kids, the dog, everybody dyin, no lyin So don't you get suspicious I'm Big Dangerous you're just a Lil Vicious As I leave my competition, respirator style Climb the ladder to success escalator style Hold y'all breath, I told y'all -- death controls y'all, Big don't fold y'all, uhh I spit phrases that'll thrill you You're nobody til somebody kills you You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) Uhh, uhh Watch Casino, I'm the hip-hop version of Nicky Tarantino Ask Nino, he know Green with envy, the green tempts me to make the rich the enemy, and take their cheese Take their spots, take their keys, make my faculty live happily, ever after in laughter Hah, never seen Cristal pour faster And to those bastards, knuckleheads squeeze lead Three of mine dead, nuttin left to do but tear they ass to shreds, leave em in bloodshed Incidents like this I take trips Lay up in Miami with Tamika and Tammy (huh) Some Creole C-O bitches I met on tour Push a peach Legend Coupe, gold teeth galore Told me meet em in the future later, they'll take me shoppin buy me lavender and fuschia Gators Introduce me to playa haters and heavy weighters Rich bitch shit, drinkin Cristal til they piss the shit, uhh Thorough bitches, adapt to any borough bitches Be in spots where they were no bitches, you feel me Reminesce on dead friends too You're nobody til somebody kills you You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) Uhh, uhh You can be the shit, flash the fattest five (that's right) Have the biggest dick, but when your shell get hit You ain't worth spit, just a memory Remember he, used to push the champagne Range (I remember that) Silly cat, all suede in the rain Swear he put the G in Game, had the Gucci frame before Dana Dane, thought he ran with Kane I can't recall his name (what was his name?) you mean that kid that nearly lost half his brain over two bricks of cocaine? Gettin his dick sucked by Crackhead Lorraine A fuckin shame, duke's a lame, what's his name? Darkskin Jermaine, see what I mean? You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) |
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4:53 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil -- for you are with me Your rod and your staff, they comfort me You prepare a table for me, in the presence of my enemies You annoint my head with oil, my cup overflows Surely goodness and love will follow me -- all the days of my life And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever Niggaz in my faction don't like askin questions Strictly gun testin, coke measurin Givin pleasure in the Benz-ito Hittin fanny, spendin chips at Manny's Hope you creeps got receipts, my peeps get dirty like cleats Run up in your crib, wrap you up in your Polo sheets Six up in your wig piece, nigga decease MWA, may you rest in peace With my Sycamore style, more sicker than yours Four-four, and fifty-four draw as my pilot, steers my Leer, yes my dear Shit's official, only, the Feds I fear Here's a tissue, stop your blood clot cryin The kids, the dog, everybody dyin, no lyin So don't you get suspicious I'm Big Dangerous you're just a Lil Vicious As I leave my competition, respirator style Climb the ladder to success escalator style Hold y'all breath, I told y'all -- death controls y'all, Big don't fold y'all, uhh I spit phrases that'll thrill you You're nobody til somebody kills you *You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) Uhh, uhh Watch Casino, I'm the hip-hop version of Nicky Tarantino Ask Nino, he know Green with envy, the green tempts me to make the rich the enemy, and take their cheese Take their spots, take their keys, make my faculty live happily, ever after in laughter Hah, never seen Cristal pour faster And to those bastards, knuckleheads squeeze lead Three of mine dead, nuttin left to do but tear they ass to shreds, leave em in bloodshed Incidents like this I take trips Lay up in Miami with Tamika and Tammy (huh) Some Creole C-O bitches I met on tour Push a peach Legend Coupe, gold teeth galore Told me meet em in the future later, they'll take me shoppin buy me lavender and fuschia Gators Introduce me to playa haters and heavy weighters Rich bitch shit, drinkin Cristal til they piss the shit, uhh Thorough bitches, adapt to any borough bitches Be in spots where they were no bitches, you feel me Reminesce on dead friends too You're nobody til somebody kills you *Repeat (x2) Uhh, uhh You can be the shit, flash the fattest five (that's right) Have the biggest dick, but when your shell get hit You ain't worth spit, just a memory Remember he, used to push the champagne Range (I remember that) Silly cat, all suede in the rain Swear he put the G in Game, had the Gucci frame before Dana Dane, thought he ran with Kane I can't recall his name (what was his name?) you mean that kid that nearly lost half his brain over two bricks of cocaine? Gettin his dick sucked by Crackhead Lorraine A fuckin shame, duke's a lame, what's his name? Darkskin Jermaine, see what I mean? *Repeat (x2) |
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4:52 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil -- for you are with me Your rod and your staff, they comfort me You prepare a table for me, in the presence of my enemies You annoint my head with oil, my cup overflows Surely goodness and love will follow me -- all the days of my life And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever Niggaz in my faction don't like askin questions Strictly gun testin, coke measurin Givin pleasure in the Benz-ito Hittin fanny, spendin chips at Manny's Hope you creeps got receipts, my peeps get dirty like cleats Run up in your crib, wrap you up in your Polo sheets Six up in your wig piece, nigga decease MWA, may you rest in peace With my Sycamore style, more sicker than yours Four-four, and fifty-four draw as my pilot, steers my Leer, yes my dear Shit's official, only, the Feds I fear Here's a tissue, stop your blood clot cryin The kids, the dog, everybody dyin, no lyin So don't you get suspicious I'm Big Dangerous you're just a Lil Vicious As I leave my competition, respirator style Climb the ladder to success escalator style Hold y'all breath, I told y'all -- death controls y'all, Big don't fold y'all, uhh I spit phrases that'll thrill you You're nobody til somebody kills you You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) Uhh, uhh Watch Casino, I'm the hip-hop version of Nicky Tarantino Ask Nino, he know Green with envy, the green tempts me to make the rich the enemy, and take their cheese Take their spots, take their keys, make my faculty live happily, ever after in laughter Hah, never seen Cristal pour faster And to those bastards, knuckleheads squeeze lead Three of mine dead, nuttin left to do but tear they ass to shreds, leave em in bloodshed Incidents like this I take trips Lay up in Miami with Tamika and Tammy (huh) Some Creole C-O bitches I met on tour Push a peach Legend Coupe, gold teeth galore Told me meet em in the future later, they'll take me shoppin buy me lavender and fuschia Gators Introduce me to playa haters and heavy weighters Rich bitch shit, drinkin Cristal til they piss the shit, uhh Thorough bitches, adapt to any borough bitches Be in spots where they were no bitches, you feel me Reminesce on dead friends too You're nobody til somebody kills you You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) Uhh, uhh You can be the shit, flash the fattest five (that's right) Have the biggest dick, but when your shell get hit You ain't worth spit, just a memory Remember he, used to push the champagne Range (I remember that) Silly cat, all suede in the rain Swear he put the G in Game, had the Gucci frame before Dana Dane, thought he ran with Kane I can't recall his name (what was his name?) you mean that kid that nearly lost half his brain over two bricks of cocaine? Gettin his dick sucked by Crackhead Lorraine A fuckin shame, duke's a lame, what's his name? Darkskin Jermaine, see what I mean? You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) You're nobody, til somebody, kills you (I don't wanna die, God tell me why) |
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3:37 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Notorious B.I.G.] Venue after venue, I've been through Coming
to the telly, so I can bend you Send you to the store, condoms and more Jealous females, call you sluts and whores Could it be my hardcore metaphor Make sweat pour on the bedroom floor Open up the Lex door Jump on in, I'm kind of tired I'm a roll blunts while you spin You got your license, right? Alright, no swerving Hair blonde out, Madonna style like a virgin Splurging, Dom P., Ro-se Much foreplay, that's my forte Niggas see the ring, baguettes to death She looking for a man, honey he just left Violate me, he get beat to death Goodfellas squeeze every shell they got left Grand Marnier increase the don strength Two four-fifths within my arms length With a calm breath I say we gots to float Throw Little Cease the keys to the boat Tongue all down her throat, you know the routine Got my dick large like Bruce Springsteen And you mean too, eyes greenish blue Got the Coogi sweater with the bubble Fubu Beautiful, that's how the night goes Get out them tight clothes Get in some night clothes I invite those girls that smoke lye Keep it real with you You keep it real with I We be tight like frog's ass Have you screaming "Biggie, Biggie give me one more chance" [Chorus] [Puff Daddy] Would you ride with me? (Yeah) Would you lie for me? (That's right) Would you get high with me? (For sure) Would you die for me? (No doubt) (Repeat) [Lil' Kim] These hoes don't treat you like I treat you Like my contacts, I can see right through Don't they know me and you is stuck like glue? Queen Bitch means number one and two Wifey, ya'll ain't got to like me Go head and act dumb, you'll just catch a hot one Y'all know where I'm from Bucktown, lay your ass down You don't wanna play around (with me) Probably just mad because Frank chose me A fly cu-tie, you just a grou-pie Girls call my telephone just to hang up While me and you is in the crib, laying up Oh he ain't tell you that we live together And that we gonna have a kid together Whatever, me intimidated, never Anything you give to him, he give it right to Kim Anyway, I fuck better than you Give head better than you, pussy get wetter than you If I fuck another nigga, don't mean nothing B.I.G. is in my heart from the start Whether broke or rich, I'm a stay his bitch Chicks who used to be around, where they at now? (See I don't care bout them other broads) B.I.G. kept it real with me, and that's that [Chorus fade out] |
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- |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again [Explicit Version] (2003) | |||||
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6:04 |
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from P.Diddy & The Bad Boy Family - We Invented The Remix [Explicit Version] [remix] (2002)
Woke up in the morning, you were not there
All I seen was an imprint of your head In my pillow, weeping willow Why'd I treat you so bad I should of known one day that you'd be gone You should of known one day that I'd be gone You should of known one day that we'd be [Verse One by Carl Thomas] Why did you have to be this way Baby all you had to say Is that you were sick and tired of the man I began to be But you planned a great escape Bright and early before I wake We both knew we had to break You could of chose a better way [Chorus: Carl Thomas] Woke up in the morning, you were not there All I seen was an imprint of your head In my pillow, weeping willow Why'd I treat you so bad I should of known one day that you'd be gone You should of known one day that I'd be gone You should of known one day that we'd be [Verse Two: Carl Thomas] It was cold the way you left Still the pain is in my chest Because in my heart I felt you should of came and talked to me If you put away your pride And look deep into my eyes It would of been to your surprise That I got up to apologize But you were gone [Chorus: Carl Thomas 2x] Woke up in the morning, you were not there All I seen was an imprint of your head In my pillow, weeping willow Why'd I treat you so bad I should of known one day that you'd be gone You should of known one day that I'd be gone You should of known one day that we'd be [Break: Carl Thomas] Oh I thought we had forever, now it's gone It's time to carry on I thought that you made me happy But it's this thing that's come between us |
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5:19 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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5:19 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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5:19 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die [Amended Version] (1994)
Intro: Puff Daddy
As we proceed to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers get live motherfuckers -- 2X As we proceed to give you what you need East coast motherfuckers Bad Boy motherfuckers BIG - Now turn the mics up Turn that mic up, yea that beat is knockin to that microphone Turn that shit the fuck up Uh, what? Turn it up louder Yea, uh As we proceed, to give you what you need J.M. motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Verse One: Who shot ya? Seperate the weak from the ob-solete Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets It's on nigga, fuck all that bickering beef I can hear sweat trickling down your cheek Your heartbeat soun like Sasquatch feet Thundering, shaking the concrete Finish it, stop, when I foil the plot Neighbors call the cops said they heard mad shots Saw me in the drop, three in the corner Slaughter, electrical tape around your daughter Old school new school need to learn though I burn baby burn like Disco Inferno Burn slow like blunts with ya-yo Peel more skins than Idaho potato Niggaz know, the lyrics molestin is takin place Fuckin with B.I.G. it ain't safe I make your skin chafe, rashes on the masses Bumps and bruises, blunts and Landcruisers Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools Niggaz mad because I know that Cash Rules Everything Around Me, two glock nines Any motherfucker whispering about mines And I'm, Crooklyn's finest You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind this Interlude: As we proceed to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers get live motherfuckers As we proceed to give you what you need East coast motherfuckers Bad Boy motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Smoke blunts motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Ready to die motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Verse Two: I seen the light excite all the freaks Stack mad chips, spread love with my peeps Niggaz wanna creep, got ta watch my back Think the Cognac and indo sack make me slack? I switches all that, cock-sucker G's up One false move, get swiss cheesed up Clip to Tec, respect I demand it Slip and break the, 11th Commandment Thou shalt not fuck with raw C-Poppa Feel a thosand deaths when I drop ya I feel for you, like Chaka Khan I'm the don Pussy when I want Rolex on the arm You'll die slow but calm Recognize my face, so there won't be no mistake So you know where to tell Jake, lame nigga Brave nigga, turned front page nigga Puff Daddy flips daily I smoke the blunts he sips on the Bailey's on the rocks, tote glocks at christenings And my cock, in the fire position and... (Get live motherfuckers Ready to Die motherfuckers) C'mere, c'mere [it ain't gotta be like that Big] open your fucking mouth, open your... didn't I tell you don't fuck with me? [*muffled* c'mon man] Huh? Didn't I tell you not to fuck with me? (as we proceed) [c'mon man] Look at you now (to give you what you need) Huh? [c'mon man] (9 to 5 motherfuckers) Can't talk with a gun in your mouth huh? (get live motherfuckers) Bitch-ass nigga, what? (get live motherfuckers) [*muffled sounds, six gun shots*] (as we proceed...) Who shot ya? Outro: Puff Daddy ...to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers Get live motherfuckers (Who shot ya?) Get high motherfuckers Ready to Die motherfuckers Hah!! As we proceed... (Who shot ya?) ...to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers East coast motherfuckers (Who shot ya?) West coast motherfuckers... West coast motherfuckers... hah! As we proceed, to give you what you need As we proceed to give you what you need Get live motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Get money motherfuckers As we proceed to give you what you need Get live motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers As we proceeeeeeed To give you what you need... 9 to 5... |
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3:48 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
Intro: Puff Daddy As we proceed to give you what you need 9 to
5 motherfuckers get live motherfuckers -- 2X As we proceed to give you what you need East coast motherfuckers Bad Boy motherfuckers BIG - Now turn the mics up Turn that mic up, yea that beat is knockin to that microphone Turn that shit the fuck up Uh, what? Turn it up louder Yea, uh As we proceed, to give you what you need J.M. motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Verse One: Who shot ya? Seperate the weak from the ob-solete Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets It's on nigga, fuck all that bickering beef I can hear sweat trickling down your cheek Your heartbeat soun like Sasquatch feet Thundering, shaking the concrete Finish it, stop, when I foil the plot Neighbors call the cops said they heard mad shots Saw me in the drop, three in the corner Slaughter, electrical tape around your daughter Old school new school need to learn though I burn baby burn like Disco Inferno Burn slow like blunts with ya-yo Peel more skins than Idaho potato Niggaz know, the lyrics molestin is takin place Fuckin with B.I.G. it ain't safe I make your skin chafe, rashes on the masses Bumps and bruises, blunts and Landcruisers Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools Niggaz mad because I know that Cash Rules Everything Around Me, two glock nines Any motherfucker whispering about mines And I'm, Crooklyn's finest You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind this Interlude: As we proceed to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers get live motherfuckers As we proceed to give you what you need East coast motherfuckers Bad Boy motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Smoke blunts motherfuckers Get high motherfuckers Ready to die motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Verse Two: I seen the light excite all the freaks Stack mad chips, spread love with my peeps Niggaz wanna creep, got ta watch my back Think the Cognac and indo sack make me slack? I switches all that, cock-sucker G's up One false move, get swiss cheesed up Clip to Tec, respect I demand it Slip and break the, 11th Commandment Thou shalt not fuck with raw C- Poppa Feel a thosand deaths when I drop ya I feel for you, like Chaka Khan I'm the don Pussy when I want Rolex on the arm You'll die slow but calm Recognize my face, so there won't be no mistake So you know where to tell Jake, lame nigga Brave nigga, turned front page nigga Puff Daddy flips daily I smoke the blunts he sips on the Bailey's on the rocks, tote glocks at christenings And my cock, in the fire position and... (Get live motherfuckers Ready to Die motherfuckers) C'mere, c'mere [it ain't gotta be like that Big] open your fucking mouth, open your... didn't I tell you don't fuck with me? [*muffled* c'mon man] Huh? Didn't I tell you not to fuck with me? (as we proceed) [c'mon man] Look at you now (to give you what you need) Huh? [c'mon man] (9 to 5 motherfuckers) Can't talk with a gun in your mouth huh? (get live motherfuckers) Bitch-ass nigga, what? (get live motherfuckers) [*muffled sounds, six gun shots*] (as we proceed...) Who shot ya? Outro: Puff Daddy ...to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers Get live motherfuckers (Who shot ya?) Get high motherfuckers Ready to Die motherfuckers Hah!! As we proceed... (Who shot ya?) ...to give you what you need 9 to 5 motherfuckers East coast motherfuckers (Who shot ya?) West coast motherfuckers... West coast motherfuckers... hah! As we proceed, to give you what you need As we proceed to give you what you need Get live motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers Get money motherfuckers As we proceed to give you what you need Get live motherfuckers 9 to 5 motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers J.M. motherfuckers As we proceeeeeeed To give you what you need... 9 to 5... |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again [Explicit Version] (2003) | |||||
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4:51 |
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| from Cut Killer - Cut Killer Lunatic (2005) | |||||
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- |
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| from Faith Evans, The Notorious B.I.G. - The King & I (2017) | |||||
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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3:54 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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3:54 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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5:15 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
The Commission
Uncle Paulie, Big Ditti Caesar Leo DeGenero (yeahhh) Charlie Baltimore, Iceberg Slim The most shadiest, Frank Baby We here (do you know what beef is?) We ain't goin nowhere (do you know what beef is?) Uh-uh (ask yourself, do you know what beef is?) Uh-uh, uhh Ha ha ha ha ha, check out this bizarre Rapper style used by me, the B.I.G. I put my key you put your key in, money we'll be seein Will reach the fuckin ceiling, check, check it My Calico been cocked (uh-huh) this rap Alfred Hitchcock Drop top notch playa hating won't stop (uhh) This instant, rappers too persistent Quick to spit Biggie name on shit, make my name taste Like ass when you speak it, see me in the street Your jewelry you can keep it, that be our little secret See me, be |
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5:15 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
The Commission
Uncle Paulie, Big Ditti Caesar Leo DeGenero (yeahhh) Charlie Baltimore, Iceberg Slim The most shadiest, Frank Baby We here (do you know what beef is?) We ain't goin nowhere (do you know what beef is?) Uh-uh (ask yourself, do you know what beef is?) Uh-uh, uhh Ha ha ha ha ha, check out this bizarre Rapper style used by me, the B.I.G. I put my key you put your key in, money we'll be seein Will reach the fuckin ceiling, check, check it My Calico been cocked (uh-huh) this rap Alfred Hitchcock Drop top notch playa hating won't stop (uhh) This instant, rappers too persistent Quick to spit Biggie name on shit, make my name taste Like ass when you speak it, see me in the street Your jewelry you can keep it, that be our little secret See me, be |
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from 2Pac, The Notorious B.I.G. - The Here After Feat The Notorious B.I.G (2001)
ya know...
with my nigga VP get scratched nigga in the place to be check it comin straight from the town releasin so much pow up an down ur block my sound shakes the ground i got the people feel used to this album i made its 1997 trick i must get payed im takin no kind of shorts i want every last penny dont make me have to put a ----- coz then i have to open ur pours so dont fuck with ma money i wont mess with urs i got the skills to pay the bills so i can live an chill in the hills, stack mills an run my --- gold wheels back down to the spot an say wsup to ma niggas thas still servin them rocks thats my gorillas still poppin' even though i left it niggas best not try to come an grill... ul get molested test it if u want to ma nigga an ima treat ur ass as if u stole some of ma scrilla but now back to the spot to make the law abiding pray i cant forget the 1500 clique he the capital of sinners they both makin a grip ------------------- u rich ass motherfuckers better donate me some loot and eddy whats up to you too even though i took a loss young soul loves you but put me back on my feet when i said i was ready movin major bubonic in my pockets i kept fatty but who kicks the rymes an who stacks the cash whos droppin major pow west side thats how we ride niggaz gota watch they backs coz its do or die coz if thety tryna see me or ma partner VP we yellin get scratched ye thats right for the west coast west side thats how we ride niggaz gota watch they backs coz its do or die coz if they tryna see me or ma partner VP we yellin get scratched ye thats right every since i was little, i had the gift to use the microphone now that im famous all these suckers wanna tag along like hoes tryna pull ------ i peepin hella punks plottin stalkin a nigger just like an apple rottin man, now they rotten watchin ma house as if they workin for the feds they probly can tell u exactly when i go to bed i baught me some straps incase i got a cap some snaps in they back to make there spinal cords crack i acts like that just for the fact i think im at a point in my life where theres just no turning back so i wears a vest when its time to get some rest an hoe relive the stress =---- havin sex coz punks is tryin rob me plus me do like --- bruttaly mass murderd ----- puttin bullet holes up in me with some fat 9s no time to die coz i can almost hear the flat lines i cant cry i see my niggaz sayin yo soul please dont go we bein a partner got a fofo but i dont know which way to go without gettin burned but if these niggas let me get em whereever we turn i stay in this game west side thats how we ride niggaz gota watch they backs coz its do or die coz if thety tryna see me or ma partner VP we yellin get scratched ye thats right for the west coast west side thats how we ride niggaz gota watch they backs coz its do or die coz if they tryna see me or ma partner VP we yellin get scratched ye thats right for the west coast west side thats how we ride niggaz gota watch they backs coz its do or die coz if they tryna see me or ma partner VP we yellin get scratched ye thats right nigga ride or just die, fuck it thats the way i feel im startin a slow death, thats what im writin on my will my mom thinks im crazy, but she knows she aint raise no dummy i guess its like this, when i die take all my money ma automobiles plus my house upon the hill, and if you feel the same keep my 9mm near tell ma sisters i love em, ---- & jeanette my two twin sisters, you know i love they ass to death and if i die soon, i pray to god that i dont, i hope i sell enough records to get 'em anything they want as i look in the Bible 27 book of psalms, verses 1 - 10 i dedicated to my moms but ima keep flowin, keepin much pride, its the best side where you from soul dawg?? WEST SIDE NIGGA!! |
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5:46 |
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from Tribute To The Notorious B.I.G [tribute] (1997)
Mmm... can't believe we doin' this record) We'll always love Big Poppa We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa (Yeah) We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) I look in the clouds, hope you past the sun Hope you right next to God and he calling you Son Taking you in, Angels breaking you in This is heaven and no longer do you have to sin And may God bless your mom and your two children Your wife, your family and all your friends Everybody stay strong, the good die young Where we from it's all wrong, we all confused Never know what we have til what we have we lose Think Big, we just lost a very big jewel Hip hop itself is at a pit stop itself Seeing Big die I wish the shit would stop itself It hurts, you're probably too good for this earth Genius at his work Made dirty cats wanna get a clean shirt Pop Cristal and rock they ice work (word), go Big go Big Everybody wanted to know Big Made the rap biz, glitter like showbiz Ask anybody, who could flow Big All the cats shined, but you would glow Big Frank White lyrically, moved niggaz spiritually Made you wanna get a cup, fill it up with Hennessee Front in the club and light a dutch where the women be If you seen the show then I know you felt the energy We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) Just to let y'all know, everything is all real But it's sad when a good fella catch a raw deal And pain is a part of life that we all feel Today this whole rap game is getting more ill It make me look back, to where he took rap Dude brought the East back, y'all better believe that He never had a warning, One More Chance was right before him everybody must answer when God's callin I flew B's wit him, I blew trees wit him Couldn't wait to go on tour across seas wit him People seem to get lost and, blow things out of proportion Life is worth more than the coffin I need answers, and they better be the truth Hurts like a bad tooth, we losin mad youth Lyrically there'll never be no one above you And no matter how they judge you we always gonna love you Chorus Right now I know you missin it, smokin in peace After all this bullshit don't cease, huh Big Right now, you and Pac in harmony, probably huggin While everybody from Brooklyn to West coast is buggin All these gang wars, Big, show me a sign As for your son I'ma raise Shorty like he was mine (no doubt) It seems that the devil got his stinkin back whooped And we should pray for Jesus, and ask for forgiveness I can remember all the studio time, getting twisted Bottle after bottle, Bacardi Lime, I miss it We clicked like heels when we first met the Junior Mafia and Big Poppa Nearly broke down four times writin this verse Filled with wild madness and sadness it hurts But ain't no need to cry, cause right now, where you at Is more laced than any place a millionaire lived at But it's sad that it takes that for us to unite The only time you see your family is funeral night Christopher Wallace, Frank White, holdin it down I guess you with the real king in New York now For real We'll always love Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa, Big Poppa We'll always love Big Poppa, Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa, Big Poppa (We'll always love you Big) We'll always love Big Poppa, Big Poppa, Big Poppa... (We'll always love you Big |
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5:42 |
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| from Tribute To The Notorious B.I.G [tribute] (1997) | |||||
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| from Faith Evans, The Notorious B.I.G. - The King & I (2017) | |||||
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2:57 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:41 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:41 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
Who the fuck is this?
pagin me at 5:46 in the morning crack a dawn and now I'm yawnin, wipe the cold out my eye 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 >some niggaz wanna stick you like fly paper neighbour slow down love please chill drop the caper >remember them niggaz from the hill up in Brownsville? >that you rolled dice wit >smoked blunts and got nice wit yeah my nigga Fame up in Prospect nah dem my niggaz nah love wouldn't disrespect >I didn't day dem, 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 cuz I'm warnin you >I got the mac Biggie >tell me what you wanna do... [CHORUS] Damn niggas wanna stick me for my paper [VERSE 2] >They heard about the Rolex's and the Lexus >wit the Texas license plates outta state >they heard about the pounds >you got down in Georgetown >now they heard you got half of Virginia locked down >they even heard about the crib >you bought your mom in south Florida >the fifth corridor.... Call the coroner there's gonna be alot 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 gun powder so they can devour The criminals tryin to drop my decimals DAMN.. niggaz wanna stick my for my C.R.E.A.M. and the interdream things ain't always what it seems It's the ones that smoke blunts witcha see your picture, now they wanna grab they guns and come and getcha Betcha Biggie won't slip I got the calico with the black talions loaded in the clip So I can rip through the ligaments Put they fuckers in a bad prediciment where all the foul niggas went Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta Fuck with what I had you with you motherfuckers betta duck I bring pain, blood stains on what remains of his jacket, he had a gun he should've packed it Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket so I can reload and explode down ya rasshole I fuck around and get hardcore, C-4 to ya door no beef no more(nigga) Feel the rush, scandalous The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous I dont give a fuck about you or your weak crew What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you im not runnin, nigga I bust my gun in Hold on I hear somebody comin... |
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2:57 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die [Amended Version] (1994)
Who the fuck is this? Pagin me at 5:46
in the mornin, crack of dawn an' now I'm yawnin - wipe the cold out my eye 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 [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 me 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... [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! |
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3:41 |
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from Ready To Die [Explicit Version] (1994)
Who the fuck is this?
pagin me at 5:46 in the morning crack a dawn and now I'm yawnin, wipe the cold out my eye 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 >some niggaz wanna stick you like fly paper neighbour slow down love please chill drop the caper >remember them niggaz from the hill up in Brownsville? >that you rolled dice wit >smoked blunts and got nice wit yeah my nigga Fame up in Prospect nah dem my niggaz nah love wouldn't disrespect >I didn't day dem, 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 cuz I'm warnin you >I got the mac Biggie >tell me what you wanna do... [CHORUS] Damn niggas wanna stick me for my paper [VERSE 2] >They heard about the Rolex's and the Lexus >wit the Texas license plates outta state >they heard about the pounds >you got down in Georgetown >now they heard you got half of Virginia locked down >they even heard about the crib >you bought your mom in south Florida >the fifth corridor.... Call the coroner there's gonna be alot 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 gun powder so they can devour The criminals tryin to drop my decimals DAMN.. niggaz wanna stick my for my C.R.E.A.M. and the interdream things ain't always what it seems It's the ones that smoke blunts witcha see your picture, now they wanna grab they guns and come and getcha Betcha Biggie won't slip I got the calico with the black talions loaded in the clip So I can rip through the ligaments Put they fuckers in a bad prediciment where all the foul niggas went Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta Fuck with what I had you with you motherfuckers betta duck I bring pain, blood stains on what remains of his jacket, he had a gun he should've packed it Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket so I can reload and explode down ya rasshole I fuck around and get hardcore, C-4 to ya door no beef no more(nigga) Feel the rush, scandalous The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous I dont give a fuck about you or your weak crew What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you im not runnin, nigga I bust my gun in Hold on I hear somebody comin... |
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3:35 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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3:36 |
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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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4:56 |
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from Puff Daddy - No Way Out (1997)
Yo, the sun don't shine forever
(BIG: You can turn the track up a little bit for 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 wing 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, dont 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 sun is ... (blurred) ... 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 the vest by the abdominal hum a few |
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- |
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| from Puff Daddy, The Family - Victory [digital single] (2014) | |||||
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- |
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| from Puff Daddy, The Family - Victory [digital single] (2014) | |||||
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- |
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| from Puff Daddy, The Family - Victory [digital single] (2014) | |||||
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3:13 |
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from P.Diddy & The Bad Boy Family - We Invented The Remix [Explicit Version] [remix] (2002)
See my days are cold without you
But I'm hurtin while I'm with you And though my heart can't take no more I can't keep runnin back to you See my days are cold without you But I'm hurtin while I'm with you And though my heart can't take no more I can't keep runnin back to you Here's another one I think about my strength to finally get up and leave No more broken heart for me No more tellin your lies to me I'm lookin like I got my head on right so now I see No more givin you everything There's no more takin my love from me See my days are cold without you But I'm hurtin while I'm with you And though my heart can't take no more I can't keep runnin back to you See my days are cold without you But I'm hurtin while I'm with you And though my heart can't take no more I can't keep runnin back to you glad to wake up every day without you on my brain No more where you're laid up at night No more havin to fuss and fight I'm proud to say That I will never make the same mistake No more thinkin bout what you do There's no more me runnin back to you See my days are cold without you But I'm hurtin while I'm with you And though my heart can't take no more I can't keep runnin back to you See my days are cold without you But I'm hurtin while I'm with you And though my heart can't take no more I can't keep runnin back to you Some say the X make the sex Spec tacular make me lick you from ya 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 it's alright with you we fuckin That's cool 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 You must be used to me cryin cryin While you're out bumpin and grindin But I'm leavin you tonight See my days are cold without you But I'm hurtin while I'm with you And though my heart can't take no more I can't keep running back to you You must be used to me cryin cryin While you're out bumpin and grindin But I'm leavin you tonight |
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3:44 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
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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3:44 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:44 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:44 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die [Amended Version] (1994)
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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3:44 |
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from Ready To Die [Explicit Version] (1994)
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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3:48 |
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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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3:48 |
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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 Faith Evans, The Notorious B.I.G. - The King & I (2017) | |||||
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6:08 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again (1999)
[Puff Daddy]
Yo.. Yo.. check this out YEAH! MotherFUCKERS, C'MON! MotherFUCKERS, c'mon B.I.G. motherFUCKERS B.I.G., motherFUCKERS Two thou', B.I.G. motherFUCKERS ??, two thou', motherFUCKERS ??, B.I.G. motherFUCKERS B.I.G. at war, motherFUCKERS B.I.G. ... we proceed .. to give you, what you need I am.. as we proceed .. to give you all what you need motherFUCKERS B.I.G., motherFUCKERS OHHHHH SHIT!!! [Notorious B.I.G. - overlaps above] Yo.. too much smoke in here man Crack the fuckin window man that's how the fuck you went to jail last time nigga The fuck wrong with you nigga.. the fuck man? Ahh ehh.. stupid nigga man Nigga fuck that Yo.. yo! Yo-yo-yo, yo, yo, yo.. yo Yo-yo-yo, yo.. yo Yo.. I make yo' mouthpiece obese like Della Reese When I release, you loose teeth like Lil' Cease Nigga please, blood floods yo' Dungarees And that's just the half on my warpath Laugh now cry later, I rhyme greater than the average playa hater, and spectators buy my CD twice; they see me in the streets They be like, "Yo he nice, but that's on the low doe" Be the cats with no dough, tried to play me at my show I pull out fo'-fo's, and go up in they clothes Short-change niggaz, snort-caine niggaz Extortion came quicker, bought the Range nigga Ya still tickle me, I used to be as strong as Ripple be til Lil' Cease crippled me Now I play hard, like my girls nipples be The game sour like like a pickle be, y'all know da rules Move from BK to New Jeruz -- thinkin bout all the planes we flew, bitches, we ran through Now the year's new, I lay my game flat I want my spot back, take two Motherfuckers mad cause I blew, niggaz envious Too many niggaz on my dick, shit strenuous When my men bust, you just move wit such stamina Slugs missed ya, I ain't mad at cha (we ain't mad at cha) Blood rushin, concussions, ain't nothin Catch cases, come out frontin, smokin somethin Sippin White Russians, bitch in the Benz bumpin I laced it wit the basic, six TV's a system Knockin Mase shit, face it, we hard to hit Guard ya shit, 'fore I stick you, for your re-up Wipe the pee up, mixed shots, woke your seed up Go in the ashtray, spark the weed up, LONG KISS Chorus: Joe Hooker Y'all can't see this.. That this might be the night.. This might be the night that's right, that's right This might be the night.. (kiss your ass goodbye) [Havoc] Niggaz playin they hands wrong, that's why they won't last long Finessed, what I was dealt with from the day I was born While you bent up on that corner, niggaz plottin and scheamin Up in them little holes, be creepin wit mad demons Niggaz knows, not to fuck with my dough Niggaz know not to fuck with this little bro I'm ten seconds hit'n'go Black mask black truck chrome rims Chuck Timbs Enough to confuse, any witness Strongest of calibers, is what we only travel wit You gotta get hit, your man did, so you got a hand in it Extort y'all, once friends, now we gotta cross y'all You know the niggaz with the biggest balls set the new laws and flip fours, have em washin drawers while you up North Gat to your jugular, getting your salad tossed Overhearin niggaz situation, sayin, "Like we thought" Sittin on the stand with no remorse Chorus [Prodigy] Yo, yo how we do niggaz, I don't beef I shoot niggaz If I can't get the main character, a few niggaz then I don't need no gin to boost me I got enough steam to blow, somebody gotta go I got fire in my heart, guns in my car Cash in my Carharts, it ain't hard to get em like blaow when I hit em, the nigga shit his drawers when the 40-pound hit him, the fuck these niggaz thought? Could it be the fame, maybe it's the 2 Benz or would it be the same if I couldn't claim those? Fuckin with, hoes ?? Cock sucker beat it while you bleed it on the dashboard Niggaz get, what they hand call for, again bricks You get deaded, I get erections, over revenge Can you get a quiet spot in the shade, for a breeze I lay a nigga down and steam roll away ?? Chorus 2X {Puff Daddy shouting a lot over the chorus} [Puff Daddy] I never thought it would be like this I never thought it would be like this Always thought you would be here Always thought you would be by my side I never thought it'd be like this OH GOD I MISS YOU! C'MON! YEA! Chorus {Puff Daddy shouting a lot over the chorus} |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Born Again [Explicit Version] (2003) | |||||
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
[Verse One]Remember back in the days, when niggaz had wavesGazelle shades, and corn braidsPitchin pennies, honies had the high top jelliesShootin skelly, motherfuckers was all friendlyLoungin at the barbeques, drinkin brewswith the neighborhood crews, hangin on the avenuesTurn your pagers, to nineteen ninety threeNiggaz is gettin smoked G, believe meTalk slick, you get your neck slit quickCause real street niggaz ain't havin that shitTotin techs for rep, smokin blunts in the projecthallways, shootin dice all dayWait for niggaz to step up on some fightin shitWe get hype and shit and start lifin shitSo step away with your fist fight waysMotherfucker this ain't back in the days, but you don't hear me though[Verse Two]No more cocoa leave-io, one two threeOne two three, all of this to me, is a mysteryI hear you motherfuckers talk about itBut I stay seein bodies with the motherfuckin chalk around itAnd I'm down with the shit tooFor the stupid motherfuckers wanna try to use Kung-FuInstead of a Mac-10 he tried scrappinSlugs in his back and, that's what the fucks happeninwhen you sleep on the streetLittle motherfuckers with heat, want ta leave a nigga six feet deepAnd we comin to the wakeTo make sure the cryin and commotion ain't a motherfuckin fakeBack in the days, our parents used to take care of usLook at em now, they even fuckin scared of usCallin the city for help because they can't maintainDamn, shit done changed[Verse Three]If I wasn't in the rap gameI'd probably have a key knee deep in the crack gameBecause the streets is a short stopEither you're slingin crack rock or you got a wicked jumpshotShit, it's hard being young from the slumseatin five cent gums not knowin where your meals comin fromAnd now the shit's gettin crazier and majorKids younger than me, they got the Sky grand PagersGoin outta town, blowin upSix months later all the dead bodies showin upIt make me wanna grab the nine and the shottieBut I gotta go identify the bodyDamn, what happened to the summertime cookouts?Everytime I turn around a nigga gettin took outShit, my momma got cancer in her breastDon't ask me why I'm motherfuckin stressed, things done changed
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:58 |
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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 [Amended Version] (1994)
[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 Don't ask me why I'm motherfuckin stressed, things done changed |
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from Ready To Die [Explicit Version] (1994)
[Verse One]Remember back in the days, when niggaz had wavesGazelle shades, and corn braidsPitchin pennies, honies had the high top jelliesShootin skelly, motherfuckers was all friendlyLoungin at the barbeques, drinkin brewswith the neighborhood crews, hangin on the avenuesTurn your pagers, to nineteen ninety threeNiggaz is gettin smoked G, believe meTalk slick, you get your neck slit quickCause real street niggaz ain't havin that shitTotin techs for rep, smokin blunts in the projecthallways, shootin dice all dayWait for niggaz to step up on some fightin shitWe get hype and shit and start lifin shitSo step away with your fist fight waysMotherfucker this ain't back in the days, but you don't hear me though[Verse Two]No more cocoa leave-io, one two threeOne two three, all of this to me, is a mysteryI hear you motherfuckers talk about itBut I stay seein bodies with the motherfuckin chalk around itAnd I'm down with the shit tooFor the stupid motherfuckers wanna try to use Kung-FuInstead of a Mac-10 he tried scrappinSlugs in his back and, that's what the fucks happeninwhen you sleep on the streetLittle motherfuckers with heat, want ta leave a nigga six feet deepAnd we comin to the wakeTo make sure the cryin and commotion ain't a motherfuckin fakeBack in the days, our parents used to take care of usLook at em now, they even fuckin scared of usCallin the city for help because they can't maintainDamn, shit done changed[Verse Three]If I wasn't in the rap gameI'd probably have a key knee deep in the crack gameBecause the streets is a short stopEither you're slingin crack rock or you got a wicked jumpshotShit, it's hard being young from the slumseatin five cent gums not knowin where your meals comin fromAnd now the shit's gettin crazier and majorKids younger than me, they got the Sky grand PagersGoin outta town, blowin upSix months later all the dead bodies showin upIt make me wanna grab the nine and the shottieBut I gotta go identify the bodyDamn, what happened to the summertime cookouts?Everytime I turn around a nigga gettin took outShit, my momma got cancer in her breastDon't ask me why I'm motherfuckin stressed, things done changed
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| from 2Pac, The Notorious B.I.G. - The Here After Feat The Notorious B.I.G (2001) | |||||
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4:55 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Make it hot Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 4X)
The world is filled with pimps and hoes We'll just talk about those I knows The world is mine can't you see I'm just trying to be all I can be Ohhahhoahh yeah Now first come the cash then come the ass Then come big blunts with big chunks of hash When I score with a whore she be game for sure Pimp so hard, a nigga drag his mink on the floor Won't you admit it? I ain't gotta talk because I live it Any chick fuckin with me, believe me that's a privelege I won't be satisfied, till all my niggaz get it See you hit it then I hit it, we get it back to split it And Big be that nigga we be flyin through your hood And hoodrats scopin with they eyes on my goods See we date em like we hate em, see em like we don't need em Treat em like we meet em, and never give up freedom And we only give our number to selected few And it's best that you, never knew, what good head'll do Turn a freak to a bisexual and if she's flexible fuck the nigga next to you "Make it hot" - Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 4X in the background) The world is filled, with pimps and hoes But we'll just talk about those I knows The world is mine, can't you see I'm just trying to be all I can be Ohhahhoahh, yeah When the Remi's in the system, ain't no tellin Will I fuck em will I diss em, that's what these hoes yellin I'm a pimp by blood, not relation Y'all still chase on, I'll replace on, punks Drunk of Dom, silk and gators Spittin words makin birds till they flock see you later Whether, drun |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
"Make it hot" - Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 4X)
The world is filled, with pimps and hoes We'll just talk about those I knows The world is mine, can't you see I'm just trying to be all I can be Ohhahhoahh, yeah Verse One: Puff Daddy Now first come the cash, then come the ass Then come big blunts with big chunks of hash When I score with a whore she be game for sure Pimp so hard, a nigga drag his mink on the floor Won't you admit it? I ain't gotta talk because I live it Any chick fuckin with me, believe me that's a privelege I won't be satisfied, till all my niggaz get it See you hit it then I hit it, we get it back to split it And Big be that nigga we be flyin through your hood And hoodrats scopin with they eyes on my goods See we date em like we hate em, see em like we don't need em Treat em like we meet em, and never give up freedom And we only give our number to selected few And it's best that you, never knew, what good head'll do Turn a freak to a bisexual and if she's flexible fuck the nigga next to you "Make it hot" - Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 4X in the background) The world is filled, with pimps and hoes But we'll just talk about those I knows The world is mine, can't you see I'm just trying to be all I can be Ohhahhoahh, yeah Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G. When the Remi's in the system, ain't no tellin Will I fuck em will I diss em, that's what these hoes yellin I'm a pimp by blood, not relation Y'all still chase on, I'll replace on, punks Drunk of Dom, silk and gators Spittin words makin birds till they flock see you later Whether, drunk or high, skunk or thai Nigga play against some playa shit, slugs gon fly Ain't no lie, pimped out, the SSI Nigga don't ask why, just respect it She bought me the necklace, the bracelet The Benz-o, she laced it Crib-o, got it, interior decorated Now my popularity grew, in each state Now I got two in each state Used to drink brew and eat steak Now I pop bottles with models, larger steaks on large estates "Make it hot" - Notorious B.I.G. (repeat 4X in background) The world is filled, with pimps and hoes But we'll just talk about those I knows The world is mine, can't you see I'm just trying to be all I can be Ohhahhoahh, yeah Verse Three: Too $hort I had a whole lotta bitches in my lifetime I been blessed with the game always say the right lines Had a few prostitues and if you knew the truth They're like pimps, you can't let em do it to you She ain't no sucker, I know that bitch man She wanna be a Pretty Woman lovin a rich man Now here you come, drop top ridin You ain't no pimp fake nigga stop lyin Pussy makes money, stick to the business Think about the real motherfuckers that live it Street life, pimp shit, make the hoe respect the game You bought her diamonds and cars, trick that's a shame Say what you want, but I still figured She left you cause you couldn't be, like them real niggaz She was a hustler by nature, and you was just faker than the average symps, found a badder pimp Too $hort Crazy ass man I never woulda bought that bitch all them cars and all that shit you bought that hoe man After I heard about what the bitch did nigga, knew the hoe! Man I'm thirty years old nigga And that bitch was hoein when I was in 9th grades and shit Think about that, she been around then right? Shit... you just a rest haven for hoes man Just the first nigga that came along when the bitch got out the pen Bitch only fuckin witchu cause you had a good ass job, nigga nerd Treat the bitch better than anybody ever treated her Stupid ass nigga She ain't nuttin but a hoe! Bet you fell in love with her man! You can't turn a hoe into a housewife fool Everytime you turn your back that bitch is fuckin with dem gangstas Eastside Westside these are my potnahs Do that shit, you know what I'm talkin bout nigga I tell you about some real pimps and hoes Tell you about these pimps and these hoes man, yeah I know a few Shit, beyotch! |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
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] 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, 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 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:58 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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3:58 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die [Amended Version] (1994) | |||||
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3:58 |
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from Ready To Die [Explicit Version] (1994)
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] 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, 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 |
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| from Wu-Tang Clan - Wu-Chronicles (2008) | |||||
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| from Wu-Tang Clan - Wu Tang Vs. Shaolin Masters (2011) | |||||
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| from Faith Evans, The Notorious B.I.G. - The King & I (2017) | |||||
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0:8 |
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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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0:8 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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| from Faith Evans, The Notorious B.I.G. - The King & I (2017) | |||||
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| from Faith Evans, The Notorious B.I.G. - The King & I (2017) | |||||
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3:24 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
"One two three four five six seven eight nine" Uhh, it's the ten crack commandments What, uhh, uhh Nigga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huh Can't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weed To my hustlin niggaz Niggaz on the corner I ain't forget you niggaz My triple beam niggaz, word up ( "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "TEN" I been in this game for years, it made me a animal It's rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual A step by step booklet for you to get your game on track, not your wig pushed back Rule nombre uno: never let no one know how much, dough you hold, cause you know The cheddar breed jealousy 'specially if that man fucked up, get your ass stuck up Number two: never let em know your next move Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence or violence Take it from your highness (uh-huh) I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips Number three: never trust no-bo-dy Your moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed up Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck she be layin in the bushes to light that ass up Number four: know you heard this before Never get high, on your own supply Number five: never sell no crack where you rest at I don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounce Number six: that god damn credit, dead it You think a crackhead payin you back, shit forget it Seven: this rule is so underrated Keep your family and business completely seperated Money and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitch Find yourself in serious shit Number eight: never keep no weight on you Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs too Number nine shoulda been number one to me If you ain't gettin bags stay the fuck from police (uh-huh) If niggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listen They be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittin Number ten: a strong word called consignment Strictly for live men, not for freshmen If you ain't got the clientele say hell no Cause they gon want they money rain sleet hail snow Follow these rules you'll have mad bread to break up If not, twenty-four years, on the wake up Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up Caretaker did your makeup, when you pass Your girl fucked my man Jake up, heard in three weeks she sniffed a whole half of cake up Heard she suck a good dick, and can a steak up Gotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up, uhh Crack king, Frank Blizzard Uhh ( "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "Ten" |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
(Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine"
Uhh, it's the ten crack commandments What, uhh, uhh Nigga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huh Can't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weed To my hustlin niggaz Niggaz on the corner I ain't forget you niggaz My triple beam niggaz, word up (Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "TEN" I been in this game for years, it made me a animal It's rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual A step by step booklet for you to get your game on track, not your wig pushed back Rule nombre uno: never let no one know how much, dough you hold, cause you know The cheddar breed jealousy 'specially if that man fucked up, get your ass stuck up Number two: never let em know your next move Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence or violence Take it from your highness (uh-huh) I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips Number three: never trust no-bo-dy Your moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed up Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck she be layin in the bushes to light that ass up Number four: know you heard this before Never get high, on your own supply Number five: never sell no crack where you rest at I don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounce Number six: that god damn credit, dead it You think a crackhead payin you back, shit forget it Seven: this rule is so underrated Keep your family and business completely seperated Money and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitch Find yourself in serious shit Number eight: never keep no weight on you Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs too Number nine shoulda been number one to me If you ain't gettin bags stay the fuck from police (uh-huh) If niggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listen They be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittin Number ten: a strong word called consignment Strictly for live men, not for freshmen If you ain't got the clientele say hell no Cause they gon want they money rain sleet hail snow Follow these rules you'll have mad bread to break up If not, twenty-four years, on the wake up Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up Caretaker did your makeup, when you pass Your girl fucked my man Jake up, heard in three weeks she sniffed a whole half of cake up Heard she suck a good dick, and can hook a steak up Gotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up, uhh Crack king, Frank Blizzard Uhh (Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "Ten" |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
(Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine"
Uhh, it's the ten crack commandments What, uhh, uhh Nigga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huh Can't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weed To my hustlin niggaz Niggaz on the corner I ain't forget you niggaz My triple beam niggaz, word up (Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "TEN" I been in this game for years, it made me a animal It's rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual A step by step booklet for you to get your game on track, not your wig pushed back Rule nombre uno: never let no one know how much, dough you hold, cause you know The cheddar breed jealousy 'specially if that man fucked up, get your ass stuck up Number two: never let em know your next move Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence or violence Take it from your highness (uh-huh) I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips Number three: never trust no-bo-dy Your moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed up Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck she be layin in the bushes to light that ass up Number four: know you heard this before Never get high, on your own supply Number five: never sell no crack where you rest at I don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounce Number six: that god damn credit, dead it You think a crackhead payin you back, shit forget it Seven: this rule is so underrated Keep your family and business completely seperated Money and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitch Find yourself in serious shit Number eight: never keep no weight on you Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs too Number nine shoulda been number one to me If you ain't gettin bags stay the fuck from police (uh-huh) If niggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listen They be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittin Number ten: a strong word called consignment Strictly for live men, not for freshmen If you ain't got the clientele say hell no Cause they gon want they money rain sleet hail snow Follow these rules you'll have mad bread to break up If not, twenty-four years, on the wake up Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up Caretaker did your makeup, when you pass Your girl fucked my man Jake up, heard in three weeks she sniffed a whole half of cake up Heard she suck a good dick, and can hook a steak up Gotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up, uhh Crack king, Frank Whizzah(White) Uhh (Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "Ten" |
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| from Faith Evans, The Notorious B.I.G. - The King & I (2017) | |||||
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2:54 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
(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) (hey yo big...hey yo big)
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2:50 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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2:50 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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2:50 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die [Amended Version] (1994)
(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) (hey yo big...hey yo big) |
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2:54 |
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from Ready To Die [Explicit Version] (1994)
(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) (hey yo big...hey yo big)
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from 2Pac, The Notorious B.I.G. - The Here After Feat The Notorious B.I.G (2001)
(Notorious BIG)
Check it I grew up a fucking screwup Got introduced to the game Got a ounce and fucking blew up Chopping rocks overnight The nigga Biggie Smalls trying Ta turn into the black Frank White (Chorus) It's a red light How many homies gotta die tonight? Oh, yeah, stop the gunfight I can feel it Somebody's trying to start up a fight Come on and keep game, uh oh But you cannot cease the blame And if you ask me, it's a damn shame We be taking lives that we can't replace Over B.S. that don't make sense We gotta get better than this We started fighting at our own risk It was something we couldn't resist It's a red light How many homies gotta die tonight? (Notorious BIG) We had to grow dreads To change our description Two cops is on a milkbox missing Showed they toes You know they got stepped on A fistful 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 That's why I bust back It don't faze me When he drop, take his glock And I'm Swayze Celebrate my escape Sold the glock, bought some weight Laid back, I got some money to make Motherfucker (2pac) From the five-oh Ducking and dodging and my survival depends on when I let off with my nine-oh I'm moving 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 drive-by, sixteen Now he's doin' triple life Tell me is it me or my upbringing I spit that thug shit Nigga motherfuck singing I hope you got your Timberlands on tight 'Cause I ain't givin' up I'd rather duck these Motherfuckers all night I'm running 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 Till they murder me, I'm a legend Do Thug Niggas go to heaven I'm rolling with the thorough heads We getting ghost on them hoes and yo I got no love for the five-oh I'm running from the police (Chorus) Stop the gunfight I can feel it Somebody's trying to Start up a fight Come on and keep game, uh oh But you cannot cease the blame And if you ask me, it's a damn shame We be taking lives that we can't replace You got swishes in your system Juice up in Now you're red again Over what he said Over what she said Now somebody gotta end up dead |
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4:13 |
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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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4:13 |
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| from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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4:27 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
I'm sittin in the crib dreamin about Leer jets and coupes
The way Salt shoops and how they sell records like Snoop Oops! I'm interrupted by a doorbell 3:52, who the hell Is this? I gets up quick Cocks my shit Stop the dogs from barkin Then proceed to walkin Its a face that I seen before My nigga Sing, we used to sling on the 16th floor Check it I look deeper I see blood up on his sneakers And his fist gripped a chrome four-fifth So I dip Nigga, is you creepin or speakin? He tells me C-Rock just got hit up at the beacon I opens up the door, pitiful Is he in critical? Retaliation for this one won't be minimal Cuz I'm a criminal Way before the rap shit Bust the gat shit Puff won't even know what happened, If it's done smoothly Silencers on the Uzi Stash in the hooptie My alibi, any cutie With a booty that done fuck the Pop Head spinnin, reminiscin bout my man C-Rock Chorus: repeat 2X Somebody's got ta die If I got, you got ta go Somebody's got to die Let the gunshots blow Somebody's got to die Nobody got ta know That I killed yo ass in the mist, kid Verse Two: Fillin clips he explained our situation Precisely, so we know exactly what we facin Some kid named Jason In a Honda station wagon Was braggin About how much loot and crack he stackin Rock had a grip so they formed up a clique Small crew 'Round the time I was locked up with you True indeed But yo nigga let me proceed Don't fill them clips too high Give them bullets room to breathe Damn where was I? Yeah One night in town Blew the fuck up D-Rock went home And Jay got stuck the fuck up Hit 'em twice Got 'em right for the virgin white Pistol whipped his kids And taped up his wife He said "Yo Rock, set em up", no question Wet em up no less Than 50 shots in his direction How many shots? Man nigga, I seen mad holes What kinda gats? Hitch links, Cocks, and Calicoles But fuck that I know where all them niggas rest at In the buildin hustlin And they don't be strapped Supreme in black Is downstairs, the engine runnin Find a bag to put the guns in And c'mon if yo comin Chorus Verse Three: Exchanged hugs and pounds before the throw down How its gonna go down Lay these niggas low-down Slow down Fuck all that plannin shit Run up in they cribs And make em catch the man n shit See niggas like you do ten year bids Miss the niggas they want And murder innocent kids Not I One niggas in my eye That's Jason Ain't no slugs gonna be wasted Revenge I'm tastin at the tip of my lips I can't wait to feel my clip in his hips Pass the chocolate Thai Sing ain't lie There's Jason with his back to me Talkin to his faculty I start to get a funny feelins Put the mask on in case his niggas start squealin Scream his name out Squeeze six knuckles shorter Nigga turned around holdin his daughter |
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4:27 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
I'm sittin in the crib dreamin about Leer jets and coupes
The way Salt shoops and how they sell records like Snoop Oops! I'm interrupted by a doorbell 3:52, who the hell Is this? I gets up quick Cocks my shit Stop the dogs from barkin Then proceed to walkin Its a face that I seen before My nigga Sing, we used to sling on the 16th floor Check it I look deeper I see blood up on his sneakers And his fist gripped a chrome four-fifth So I dip Nigga, is you creepin or speakin? He tells me C-Rock just got hit up at the beacon I opens up the door, pitiful Is he in critical? Retaliation for this one won't be minimal Cuz I'm a criminal Way before the rap shit Bust the gat shit Puff won't even know what happened, If it's done smoothly Silencers on the Uzi Stash in the hooptie My alibi, any cutie With a booty that don't fuck the Pop Head spinnin, reminiscin bout my man C-Rock [Chorus: repeat 2X] Somebody's gotta die If I got, you gotta go Somebody's gotta die Let the gunshots blow Somebody's gotta die Nobody gotta know That I killed yo ass in the mist, kid [Verse Two:] Fillin clips he explained our situation Precisely, so we know exactly what we facin Some kid named Jason In a highway station, raggin Was braggin About how much loot and crack he stackin Rock had a grip so they formed up a clique Small crew 'Round the time I was locked up with you True indeed But yo nigga let me proceed Don't fill them clips too high Give them bullets room to breathe Damn where was I? Yeah One night in town Blew the fuck up D-Rock went home And Jay got stuck the fuck up Hit 'em twice Got 'em right for the virgin white Pistol whipped his kids And taped up his wife He said "Yo Rock, set em up", no question Wet em up no less Than 50 shots in his direction How many shots? Man nigga, I seen mad holes What kinda gats? Hitch links, Cocks, and Calicoles But fuck that I know where all them niggas rest at In the buildin hustlin And they don't be strapped Supreme in black Is downstairs, the engine runnin Find a bag to put the guns in And c'mon if yo comin [Chorus] [Verse Three:] Exchanged hugs and pounds before the throw down How its gonna go down Lay these niggas low-down Slow down Fuck all that plannin shit Run up in they cribs And make em catch the man n shit See niggas like you do ten year bids Miss the niggas they want And murder innocent kids Not I One niggas in my eye That's Jason Ain't no slugs gonna be wasted Revenge I'm tastin at the tip of my lips I can't wait to feel my clip in his hips Pass the chocolate Thai Sing ain't lie There's Jason with his back to me Talkin to his faculty I start to get a funny feelins Put the mask on in case his niggas start squealin Scream his name out Squeeze six knuckles shorter Nigga turned around holdin his daughter |
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| from Faith Evans, The Notorious B.I.G. - The King & I (2017) | |||||
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from 2Pac, The Notorious B.I.G. - The Here After Feat The Notorious B.I.G (2001)
yeah! ha ha yeah.... thats right!
the F.A's comin striaght from the wild wild west look at baby girl born in 19-7-deuce Pop's on his fix, Mom's stuck on that crazy juice went to school, It's all cool but in Junior Hiiigh Little hooker in the bathroom getting hiiigh What she doing and what she smoking, nobody knows Is she addicted or just slipping into melbose A bad ass broad running with the girl gang just got some tat's,Talking all that girl slang. first one to slap, because La vida dont matter Wip out a cuete watch your brains get splattered Selling them doves, hanging with thugs and all that Beating up fools with a baseball bat Started having sex at only 14 Imagine O.G. wears his clothes all crisp and clean Got pregnant had a baby in December she wont see the daddy till next September Mom's and Pop's gave her the boot Kicked her out La Casa, Now what Raza with the money she got, She bought a spot of the block Started paying the rent by slangin' phat ass coca rocks Now shes 23 her four kids all alone, and loc'ed out and plus shes all smoked out,the base face You could see it in her eyes, it could also tell the tears of a life long cries. They was headed for self destruction Conjunction Junction,(hey Yo!) Whats your Function? Her own kids gotta healp, 'cause they knew she was slippin' took the devil away homegiiirl, You was Slippin'. CHORUS: Slipping into Darkness When you slip you trip and fall Slipping into Darkness Ain't no sense to give ya'll no love at all They say we're slipping, as a whole one race So, what we gonna choose, Don't want the blues I turn to the news and what do I see (merciless)"Everybody in the world ready to D. I. E." We got blacks against blacks, browns against browns whites against whites,from governments to undergrounds So, Peep the sound as it bumps through your stereo Ear to your brain now check out the scenerio Cali got quakes, Mudslides, and Floods Pesadillas(nightmares)Crips and Bloods Hustlas, Pimps, Shot Callers, and Killas O.G. , Macks, and the big Coca Dealers We got homeboys who just like kicking it and Vato's like me who grab the mic and start splitting it (merciless) "You're in for a phat treat trip into a phat beat" So get closer to the funk and slip into the backseat. CHORUS X2 They wanna band me cause a brothas makin noise a lot ill shoot they ass in a sec wit a poisin dart they got me runnin down the street gettin hotter runnin from the cops as i try to clock my glock the war wont stop thats why they wanna band the music you ever notcie how the cops cant stand the music see a black man coolin wit a mexican we can all have peace, the sun sets again they try to shove us in the pen but we clown and we frown every time we hit the top ten once again, its your friend outta oakland,hopin to keep the hip hop clubs open now we can lay back and let them close'm or we can have beef and show that we control'em now aint nobody gettin paid, its a damn shame why gang bang brothas in the same gang? they say securitys to blame, cause they lettin it off brothas come to have fun but they settin it off one time, make it worse when they sweat us send an army of pigs to come get us now im runnin outta time and im cool down with the aztecs this is sorta like soul food |
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5:29 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Good evenin ladies and gentlemen
How's everybody doin tonite? I'd like to welcome to the stage, the lyrically acclaimed, ha I like this young man, because, when he came out he came out wit the phrase, he went from ashy to classy Ha, I like that So everybody in the house, give a warm, round of applause for The Notorious B.I.G. The Notorious B.I.G. ladies and gentlemen give it up for him ya'll Uhhh A nigga never been as broke as me, I like that When I was young I had two pair of Lees, besides that The pin stripes and the gray (uh-huh) The one I wore on Mondays and Wednesdays While niggas flirt, I'm sewing tigers on my shirt and alligators Ya wanna see the inside, huh, I see ya later Here come the drama, oh, that's that nigga wit the fake, blaow! Why you punch me in my face, stay in ya place Play ya position, here come my intuition Go in this nigga pocket Rob him while his friends watchin That hoes clockin, here comes respect His crew's your crew, or they might be next Look at they man eye, BIG man they never try So we roll wid em, stole wid em I mean loyalty, niggaz bought me milks at lunch The milks was chocolate, the cookies, buttercrunch In gear - Oshkosh with blue and white ducks Pass the blunt Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want Uh-huh, I was a shame, my crew was lame I have enough heart for most of em Long as I got stuff from most of em It's on, even when I was wrong I got my point across They depicted me the boss, of course My orange box-cutter make the world go round Plus I'm fuckin, bitches ain't my homegirls now Start stackin, dabbled in crack, gun packin Nickname Medina, make the seniors tote my ninas From gym class, to Englass, pass off a global The only nigga wit a mobile, Can't You See like Total Gettin larger in waist and taste Ain't no tellin where this felon is headin, just in case Keep a shell at the tip of ya melon, clear da space Ya brain was a terrible thing ta waste Eighty-eight long gates, snatch initial name plates Smokin spliffs wit niggaz, real life beginner killers Prayin God forgive us for being sinners, help us out Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want After realizin, to master enterprisin I ain't have ta be in school by ten, I was in Began to encounter, wit my counter-parts On how ta burn the block apart, break it down into section Drugs by the selection Some use pipes, others use in-jec-tions Syringe sold seperately, Frank the deputy Quick to grab my Smith-n-Wessun, like my dick was missin To protect my position, my corner, my layer While we out here, say the hustlas prayer If the game shakes me or breaks me I hope it makes me a better man Take a better stand Put money in my moms hand Get my daughter this college plan, so she don't need no man Stay far from timid Only make moves when ya heart's in it And live the phrase Sky's The Limit Motherfucker... see you chumps on top Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want ... Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want... |
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4:37 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
Good evenin ladies and gentlemen
How's everybody doin tonite? I'd like to welcome to the stage, the lyrically acclaimed, ha I like this young man, because, when he came out he came out wit the phrase, he went from ashy to classy Ha, I like that So everybody in the house, give a warm, round of applause for The Notorious B.I.G. The Notorious B.I.G. ladies and gentlemen give it up for him ya'll Uhhh A nigga never been as broke as me, I like that When I was young I had two pair of Lees, besides that The pin stripes and the gray (uh-huh) The one I wore on Mondays and Wednesdays While niggas flirt, I'm sewing tigers on my shirt and alligators Ya wanna see the inside, huh, I see ya later Here come the drama, oh, that's that nigga wit the fake, blaow! Why you punch me in my face, stay in ya place Play ya position, here come my intuition Go in this nigga pocket Rob him while his friends watchin That hoes clockin, here comes respect His crew's your crew, or they might be next Look at they man eye, BIG man they never try So we roll wid em, stole wid em I mean loyalty, niggaz bought me milks at lunch The milks was chocolate, the cookies, buttercrunch In gear - Oshkosh with blue and white ducks Pass the blunt Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want Uh-huh, I was a shame, my crew was lame I have enough heart for most of em Long as I got stuff from most of em It's on, even when I was wrong I got my point across They depicted me the boss, of course My orange box-cutter make the world go round Plus I'm fuckin, bitches ain't my homegirls now Start stackin, dabbled in crack, gun packin Nickname Medina, make the seniors tote my ninas From gym class, to Englass, pass off a global The only nigga wit a mobile, Can't You See like Total Gettin larger in waist and taste Ain't no tellin where this felon is headin, just in case Keep a shell at the tip of ya melon, clear da space Ya brain was a terrible thing ta waste Eighty-eight long gates, snatch initial name plates Smokin spliffs wit niggaz, real life beginner killers Prayin God forgive us for being sinners, help us out Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want After realizin, to master enterprisin I ain't have ta be in school by ten, I was in Began to encounter, wit my counter-parts On how ta burn the block apart, break it down into section Drugs by the selection Some use pipes, others use in-jec-tions Syringe sold seperately, Frank the deputy Quick to grab my Smith-n-Wessun, like my dick was missin To protect my position, my corner, my layer While we out here, say the hustlas prayer If the game shakes me or breaks me I hope it makes me a better man Take a better stand Put money in my moms hand Get my daughter this college plan, so she don't need no man Stay far from timid Only make moves when ya heart's in it And live the phrase Sky's The Limit Motherfucker... see you chumps on top Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want ... Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want... |
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5:29 |
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death (1997)
[Notorious B.I.G.]
Good evenin ladies and gentlemen How's everybody doin tonite? I'd like to welcome to the stage, the lyrically acclaimed, ha I like this young man, because, when he came out he came out wit the phrase, he went from ashy to classy Ha, I like that So everybody in the house, give a warm, round of applause for The Notorious B.I.G. *clapping* The Notorious B.I.G. ladies and gentlemen give it up for him ya'll Uhhh A nigga never been as broke as me, I like that When I was young I had two pair of Lees, besides that The pin stripes and the gray (uh-huh) The one I wore on Mondays and Wednesdays While niggas flirt, I'm sewing tigers on my shirt and alligators Ya wanna see the inside, huh, I see ya later Here come the drama, oh, that's that nigga wit the fake, blaow! Why you punch me in my face, stay in ya place Play ya position, here come my intuition Go in this nigga pocket Rob him while his friends watchin That hoes clockin, here comes respect His crew's your crew, or they might be next Look at they man eye, BIG man they never try So we roll wid em, stole wid em I mean loyalty, niggaz bought me milks at lunch The milks was chocolate, the cookies, buttercrunch In here, eyes crossed from blue and white dust Pass the blunt [112] Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want [Notorious B.I.G.] Uh-huh, I was a shame, my crew was lame I have enough heart for most of em Long as I got stuff from most of em It's on, even when I was wrong I got my point across They depicted me the boss, of course My orange box-cutter make the world go round Plus I'm fuckin, bitches ain't my homegirls now Start stackin, dabbled in crack, gun packin Nickname Medina, make the seniors tote my ninas From gym class, to Englass, pass off a global The only nigga wit a mobile, Can't You See like Total Gettin larger in waist and taste Ain't no tellin where this felon is headin, just in case Keep a shell at the tip of ya melon, clear da space Ya brain was a terrible thing ta waste Eighty-eight long gates, snatch initial name plates Smokin spliffs wit niggaz, real life beginner killers Prayin God forgive us for being sinners, help us out [112] Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want, have what you want, be what you want [Notorious B.I.G.] After realizin, to master enterprisin I ain't have ta be in school by ten, I was in Began to encounter, wit my counter-parts On how ta burn the block apart, break it down into section Drugs by the selection Some use pipes, others use in-jec-tions Syringe sold seperately, Frank the deputy Quick to grab my Smith-n-Wessun, like my dick was missin To protect my position, my corner, my layer While we out here, say the hustlas prayer If the game shakes me or breaks me I hope it makes me a better man Take a better stand Put money in my moms hand Get my daughter this college plan, so she don't need no man Stay far from timid Only make moves when ya heart's in it And live the phrase Sky's The Limit Motherfucker... see you chumps on top [112] Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, pressin what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want ... Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on Just keep on pressin on Sky is the limit and you know that you can have what you want, be what you want... |
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5:21 |
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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) | |||||
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5:21 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
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" 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 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 To the freaks in the Jeeps, lick shots to my peeps -
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die [Amended Version] (1994)
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" 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 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 To the freaks in the Jeeps, lick shots to my peeps - |
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from Ready To Die [Explicit Version] (1994)
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" 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 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 To the freaks in the Jeeps, lick shots to my peeps -
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from Bad Boys II (나쁜 녀석들 2) by Trevor Rabin [ost] (2003)
I love niggas I love niggas Cause niggas are me And I should only love that 'presents me I love to see niggas go through changes (Whoooo ) I love to see niggas shoot through shit (Did it again) And to all niggas that do it I love To all my Brooklyn (Niggas ) To all my Uptown (You niggas understand?) To all my Bronx (It's war nigga) To all my Queensbridge (I'll blow you away) Back up chump, you know Biggie Smalls grips it quick And kicks it quick, you know how black niggas get With the hoods fatigues with the boots with trees Smokin weed, flippin ki's, makin crazy G's Hittin' buckshots at niggas that open spots On the avenue, take my loot, and I'm baggin you Pimpin hoes that drive Volvo's and Rodeos Flash the Roll, make her wet, in her pantyhose Damn, a nigga style is unorthodox Grip the glock, when I walk down the crowded blocks Just in case a nigga wanna act out I just black out, and blow they motherfuckin back out That's a real nigga for ya We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho When we smoke spliffs, we pack four-fifths Just in case dread wanna riff He get a free lift to the cemetary, rough very Not your ordinary, we watch you get buried That's a real nigga for ya Get mad do a quarter flip the script, and rip your lawyer Spit at the D.A. cause fuck what she say She don't give a fuck about your ass anyway Up North found first stop for the town of fist-skill, where the hand skills are real ill You'll be a super Hoover doo-doo stain remover Ha hahhh, yo G, pass the ruler We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho When I was young my M.O. was to go hail the Henny And even my P.O. she called me the Ginger Bread Man I cut ya new case, and tell her ass "catch me if you can" Don't let your people feel your awkward I tame I'm not lame Get gassed up to get blast up Real B.I.G. style watch the kid break it down Check it, thou shalt not fuck wit North Seed Papa 50 Cent, I'll break yo ass off propa' This new place like home, New York - New York I run this city, I don't dance around like Diddy Niggas is giddy, till they act smack silly Or spray wit the Mack Milly, they don't want drama really Pushy niggas get hard lip syncing my lyrics like Milly Vanilly Even the hood they feel me {*gun cocked*} hah I'm on fire Niggas out in Philly they feel me, they bump my shit Even bootlegged you know, bump my shit, bitch We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho We the realest nigga 50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga Biggie yo nigga, 50 yo nigga Squeeze the trigga' leave a nigga fa' sho - |
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from Puff Daddy - Forever (1999)
[Puffy]
I'm not wit none of that Standin' around lookin' cool and shit I want you motherfuckers to jump the fuck up And have some motherfuckin' fun You understand what it means to be black? I have my man the Notorious B.I.G in the back I go by the name of the Puff Daddy But check this shit out Four, five As we procced to give you what you need [Notorious B.I.G] Sick of momma screamin' that "Get a job, nigga" Pressed to the limit, gotta rob me a nigga Simple and plain, my man scooped me in the hoop Whispered in his ear, this is what we gotta do G Got to bang a nigga and bang a nigga good So I could cop a Benz and drive the fuck out the hood Cause baby mama screamin', your daughter twelve months Can't live life slingin' rocks and smokin' blunts Hangin' with the nigga's don't pay the bills And bein' broke at 30 give a nigga the chills So what we gotta do is creep and see a sweet vic Yo, you see that shit? (Hell yeah, I see that shit) Columbian, Dominican, yeah whatever Whoever he was, he had it tucked under the leather Two keys, twenty G's, nigga please Blew his brains out cause witnesses we don't need * - On the road to riches and diamond rings Real niggaz do real things Hanging wit the bitches is the song I sing Real niggaz do real things On the road to riches and diamond rings Real niggaz do real things Hanging wit the bitches is the song I sing Real niggaz do real things [Puff Daddy] Yeah, yeah, yeah I tote gats wit my nigga, clap wit my nigga Break bread and then break backs wit my nigga Jack wit my nigga, cock the latch wit my nigga Now how you gon' act wit my nigga? Just remember there's a gun to your dome And I will lick shots and run through your home Or better yet I put your son to the chrome Turn the music up and unplug the phone I will kill him, read my lips You too, motherfucker if I don't see no bricks See, I flips when I don't see no chips Yeah, nigga, I know you in pain, I don't care nigga I want the stash, keys, hash, Weed, G's motherfucker, freeze Cock sucker, you better bring the things out Before I blow your motherfucker frame out Nigga what Repeat * [Lil' Kim] Real big nigga's over here talkin' shit Yo fuck that, I'm gon' check these nigga's Fuck that, fuck that What you said? Speak up, I can't hear ya Oh, thought you was talkin' To us, um pardon me, my bad I shoulda known Ya'll ain't wanted with these three time losers The open surgeons heart removers Niggaz think they gon' stop my ones Put a contract out and stop ya'll lungs We powerful, don't think that all we got is guns We buy out everything you claim, including your name Mama bitch squeeze the life out of ya'll nigga's Screw barkin', I take bites out of ya'll nigga's Crack open your safe then put a bomb to it Fuck shootin' windows nigga, I jumps through it With the all black hood, he beat a nigga 'till he hurl Then pull the hoodie off so he can see it was a girl When it comes to m |
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from 2Pac, The Notorious B.I.G. - The Here After Feat The Notorious B.I.G (2001)
Thug Life! Comin' str8 out the West Coast,
Real Boy Killaz! 2pac with the Assassin! And we ridin' for the west Side! Bad Boy, Bad Boy whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when we comin' at you?? Bad Boy, Bad Boy whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when we comin' at you?? Bad Boy, Bad Boy whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when we comin' at you?? Bad Boy, Bad Boy whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when we comin' at you?? (2pac) I got these bustaz on my block, and they after me Runnin' round tellin' these niggaz, how they goin' capture me. It's gettin' crazy, it's hard to make my mind up Now should I bucm em' down and put my 9 up? Ya see, I ain't a Bad Boy, jus' a boy that had it bad I graduated from 22?s to 357 mags. Runnin' on these marks for they stash and I ain't askin Givin' up or get the blastin'. The penitentiary don't scare me A str8 thug nigga...hoes say they'll take care of me. And tell me who the fuck you goin' find? Rough enough to tell these bitch niggaz this is mine Now busta meet my 9! 20 role on the grind I'm sick about mine and uhh Ain't nutin' wrong wit' gettin' high. A hustlin' ass nigga from the projects I'm makin' loot, screamin' Thug Life, nigga when I shoot. They made me a (badboy!) (hook) Bad Boys can't stop Thug Life, westside when we ride, one time! Bad Boys can't stop Thug Life, we gotsta keep on thuggin'! Bad Boys can't stop Thug Life, westside when we ride, one time! Bad Boys can't stop Thug Life, we gotsta keep on thuggin'! Fuck Bad Boy! (the Assassin) I'm screamin' west side ridah when we ride and in a hoo ride Suicide til the day gettin' high! From the Bay to LA, drinkin' Tanqueray and da Alize When we stay on the blocks, slangin' rocks, runni' from cops. When we runnin',we comin', and gunnin' and you get done and In the city wit' no pity, down wit' Thug Life, we doin' it live! Everytime we side on you trick made bitches. Packin' a 45, recognize the game in yo' set BEtta jet when I get you wet, wit' intention a' do or die Homicide, genocide to the other side When we glide wit' my nigga Pac we bustin' em niggaz On th block wit' Gangsta-D back up me your real OG comin' up outta the 7 T rees. Strick 9 to the LHD We claimin' to bring we make em fiend For the fact we havin' em stack on the map For the city of Sac al the way to the Jo' when stroll Poppin the mos, outta killa California, str8 loc westcoast! (hook)Repite1 Hahahahaha! |
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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) | |||||
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4:25 |
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| from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994) | |||||
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4:25 |
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from The Notorious B.I.G. - Ready To Die (1994)
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 cheek 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) (I don't wanna see no cryin at my funeral)
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