Ready To Die Album Lyrics by The Notorious B.I.G.

The Notorious B.I.G. Lyrics

Ready To Die Lyrics
(Lyrics to the Full Album on one page)


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

[Curtis Mayfield's "Super Fly" plays over this]

[Sugarhill Gang's "Rappers Delight" fades in]

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

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

[Sugarhill fades out, Audio Two fades in]

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

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

[Audio Two fades out, Snoop Dogg fades in]

Open C-74, Smalls

Mr. Smalls, let me walk you to the door
So how does it feel leavin us?
[B.I.G.:] C'mon man, what kind of f*ckin question is that man?
Tryin to get the f*ck up out this joint dog
Yeah, yeah, you'll be back
You niggaz always are
[B.I.G.:] Go head man, what the f*ck is you hollerin about?
You won't see me up in this motherf*cker no mroe
We'll see
[B.I.G.:] I got big plans nigga, big plans, hahahahaha



Things Done Changed

[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, motherf*ckers 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
Motherf*cker 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 motherf*ckers talk about it
But I stay seein bodies with the motherf*ckin chalk around it
And I'm down with the shit too
For the stupid motherf*ckers wanna try to use Kung-Fu
Instead of a Mac-10 he tried scrappin
Slugs in his back and, that's what the f*ck happens
when you sleep on the street
Little motherf*ckers 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 motherf*ckin fake
Back in the days, our parents used to take care of us
Look at em now, they even f*ckin 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 motherf*ckin stressed, things done changed



Gimme The Loot

Yeah. Motherf*ckers better know... huh, huh. Lock your windows,
Close your doors. Biggie Smalls, huh... yeah.

[Verse 1:]
My man Inf left a Tec and a nine at my crib
Turned himself in, he had to do a bid
A one-to-three, he be home the end of '93
I'm ready to get this paper, G, you with me?

Motherf*cking right, my pocket's looking kind of tight
And I'm stressed, yo Biggie let me get the vest

No need for that, just grab the f*cking gat
The first pocket that's fat the Tec is to his back
Word is bond, I'm a smoke him yo don't fake no moves (what?)
Treat it like boxing: stick and move, stick and move

Nigga, you ain't got to explain shit
I've been robbin motherf*ckers since the slave ships
With the same clip and the same four-five
Two point-blank, a motherf*cker's sure to die
That's my word, nigga even try to bogart
Have his mother singing "It's so hard... "

Yes, love love you're f*cking attitude
Because the nigga play pussy that's the nigga that's getting screwed
And bruised up from the pistol whipping
Webs on the neck from the necklace stripping
Then I'm dipping up the block and I'm robbing bitches too
Up the herring bones and bamboos
I wouldn't give f*ck if you're pregnant
Give me the baby rings and a #1 MOM pendant

I'm slamming niggaz like Shaquille, shit is real
When it's time to eat a meal I rob and steal
'cause Mom Duke ain't giving me shit
So for the bread and butter I leave niggaz in the gutter
Huh, word to mother, I'm dangerous
Crazier than a bag of f*cking Angel Dust
When I bust my gat motherf*ckers take dirt naps
I'm all that and a dime sack, where the papers at?

[Verse 2:]
Big up, big up, it's a stick up, stick up
And I'm shooting niggaz quick if you hiccup
Don't let me fill my clip up in your back and head piece
The opposite of peace sending Mom Duke a wreath
You're talking to the robbery expert
Stepping to your wake with your blood on my shirt
Don't be a jerk and get smoked over being resistant
'cause when I lick shots the shits is persistent

Huh, goodness gracious the papers
Where the cash at? Where the stash at?
Nigga, pass that before you get your grave dug
From the main thug, .357 slug
And my nigga Biggie got an itchy one grip

One in the chamber, 32 in the clip
Motherf*ckers better strip, yeah nigga peel
Before you find out how blue steel feel

From the Beretta, putting all the holes in your sweater
The money getter motherf*ckers don't have better
Rolex watches and colourful Swatches
I'm digging in pockets, motherf*ckers can't stop it

Man, niggaz come through I'm taking high school rings too
Bitches get stripped down for they earrings and bangles
And when I rock her and drop her I'm taking her door knockers
And if she's resistant "baka! baka! baka! "

So go get your man bitch he can get robbed too

Tell him Biggie took it, what the f*ck he gonna do?

I hope apologetic or I'm a have to set it
And if I set it the cocksucker won't forget it

[Verse 3:]
Man, listen all this walking is hurting my feet
But money looks sweet (where at?) in the Isuzu jeep

Man, I throw him in the Beem, you grab the f*cking C.R.E.A.M
And if he start to scream "bam! bam! ", have a nice dream
Hold up, he got a f*cking bitch in the car
Fur coats and diamonds, she thinks she a superstar

Ooh Biggie, let me jack her, I kick her in the back
Hit her with the gat...

Yo chill, Shorty, let me do that...
Just get the f*cking car keys and cruise up the block
The bitch act shocked, gettin shot on the spot
(Oh shit! The cops!) Be cool, fool
They ain't gonna roll up, all they want is f*cking doughnuts
(So why the f*ck he keep lookin?) I guess to get his life tooken
I just came home, ain't trying to see Central Booking
Oh shit, now he lookin in my face
You better haul ass 'cause I ain't with no f*cking chase
So lace up your boots, 'cause I'm about to shoot
A true motherf*cker going out for the loot



Machine Gun Funk

[Verse One:]

So you wanna be hardcore
With your hat to the back, talkin bout the gats in your raps
But I can't feel that hardcore appeal
that you're screamin, baby I'm dreamin
This ain't Christopher Williams, still some
MC's got to feel one, caps I got to peel some
To let niggaz know... that if you f*ck with Big-and-Heavy
I get up in that ass like a wedgie
Says who? Says me, the lyrical
Niggaz sayin, "Biggie off the street, it's a miracle"
Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me
Just for niggaz actin shifty
Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat'll kill you quicker
Especially when I'm drunk off the liquor
Smokin funk by the boxes, packin glocks is
natural to eat you niggaz like chocolates
The funk baby

[Chorus (repeats 8X)]

"I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk" (LOTUG, Chief Rocka)

[Verse Two:]

All I want is bitches, big booty bitches
Used to sell crack, so I could stack my riches
Now I pack gats, to stop all the snitches
from stayin in my business, what is this? Relentless
approach, to know if I'm broke or not
Just cause I joke and smoke a lot
Don't mean I don't tote the glock
Sixteen shots for my niggaz in the pen
Until we motherf*ckin meet again
Huh, I'm doin rhymes now, f*ck the crimes now
Come on the ave, I'm real hard to find now
Cause I'm knee deep in the beats
In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the Mac-10 by the seats
For the jackers, the jealous ass crackers in the (car sirens)
I'll make you prove that it's bulletproof
Hold ya head, cause when you hit the bricks
I got gin, mad blunts, and bitches suckin dick
The funk baby

[Repeat chorus]

[Verse Three:]

So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side
How I smoked funk, smacked bitches on the backside
Bed-Stuy, the place where my head rests
Fifty shot clip if a nigga wan' test
The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya
High as a motherf*ckin helicopter
That's why I pack a nina, f*ck a misdeameanor
Beatin motherf*ckers like Ike beat Tina
(What's Love, Got to Do)
when I'm rippin all through your whole crew
Strapped like bamboo, but I don't sling guns
I got bags of funk, and it's sellin by the tons
Niggaz wanna know, how I live the mack life
Making money smoking mics like crack pipes
It's type simple and plain to maintain
I add a little funk to the brain
The funk baby

[Repeat chorus]




Who the f*ck is this?
Pagin me at 5:46 in the mornin crack a dawnin
Now I'm yawnin, wipe the cold out my eye
See who's this pagin me and why...
It's my man Pop from the barbershop
Told me he was in the gamblin spot and heard the intricate plot
Some people wanna stick you like fly paper neighbour
Slow down love please chill drop the caper
Remember them kidz from the hill up in Brownsville
That you rolled dice with
Smoked the blunts and got nice with
Yeah my little Fame up in Prospect
Nah dem my people nah love wouldn't disrespect
I didn't say dem,
You school be bout some niggas
That you knew from back when,
When you was clockin minor figures
Now they heard you blowin up like nitro
Know they wanna stick the knife
Through your windpipe slow...
So thank Fame for warnin me now I'm warnin you
You got the mac Biggie
Tell me what you wanna do...

Damn niggas wanna stick me for my papers

They heard about the Rolex's and the Lexus
With the Texas license plate 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 moms out in 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 clock my decimals
DAMN... niggas wanna stick my for my C.R.E.A.M.
And the inner dream things ain't always how it seems
It's the ones that smoke blunts witcha
See your picture, now they wanna
Grab they guns and come and getcha
Bethca Biggie won't slip
I got the calico with the black talons loaded in the clip
So I can rip through the ligaments
Put they bodies in a bad prediciment
Where all the foul niggas went
Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta
Buck with what I had you with
You motherf*ckers 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 f*ck around and get hardcore
See 4 to ya door no beef no more
Feel the rush scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff the more dangerous
I don't give a f*ck about you or your weak crew
What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you
Start runnin, nigga I bust my gun in
Hold on I hear somebody comin...



Ready To Die

(You ready motherf*cker?)
(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 f*ck up my sheets, huh
My shit is deep, deeper than my grave G
I'm ready to die and nobody can save me
F*ck the world, f*ck 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 motherf*cker 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 f*ck?
Now I got a glock, makin motherf*ckers 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 f*ckin 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 on like you slumber right you fell to the conrete
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 motherf*ckin 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 motherf*cker)
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)
(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 motherf*ckers 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)



One More Chance

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

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

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

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

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

[Message 4:]
Yeah muthaf*cka this is Stephanie, I was waitin' outside for your ass
for like a f*ckin' hour, I don't know what's goin on, muthaf*ckas tryina
raw me, you be dissapearin' and shit I'm waitin' in the cold, what the
f*ck is goin' on, when you get in give me a f*ckin' call, alright?

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

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

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

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



F*ck Me (Interlude)

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

Woman moaning, uh, yeah, uh, oooh, oh yeah, mmm, yeah
Oh f*ck me you black mothaf*cka, oooohh yeah!!! MMMMMM, Aaahhh
Oh f*ck me you black Kentucky Fried Chicken eatin'
Ohhh, ooohhh, yeah
You mothaf*ckin' gangsta killin', mutha f*ckin black mafia ass
Muthaf*ckin, you, ohhhhh my god
You chronic smokin', Oreo cookie eatin', pickle juice drinkin'
Chicken gristle eatin', biscuit suckin', MUTHAf*cka
V8 juice drinkin', slim fast, black greasy muthaf*cka
[Biggie:] Whats my name?
[Woman:] Biggie!
[Biggie:] Whats my name?
[Woman:] Biggie!

Oh yeah
[Sound of Biggie and the woman falling off the bed]

[Biggie:] I'm sorry.
[Woman:] Ahhhh....
[Biggie:] Oh shit. Damn.
[Woman: (laughing)] Jenny Craig eatin' muthaf*cka
[Biggie: (laughing)] F*ck you bitch...



The What

[Verse One: Notorious, Meth]

I used to get feels on a bitch
Now I throw shields on the dick
To stop me from that HIV shit
And niggaz know they hot 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 f*ckin 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 f*ck 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)


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

[Verse Two: Meth, Notorious]

Verse two, comin with that Olde E brew
Meth-tical, puttin niggaz back in I.C.U.
I'm lifted troop, you can bring yours wack ass crew
I got connections, I'll get that ass stuck like glue, huh
No question, I be comin down and shit
Yo I gets rugged as a motherf*ckin 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 motherf*ckin 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 motherf*cker's dead, ya thought so

[Chorus: repeat 2X]





(F*ck all you hoes) Get a grip motherf*cker.

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

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

[Verse One:]

It was all a dream
I used to read Word Up magazine
Salt'n'Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine
Hangin' pictures on my wall
Every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl
I let my tape rock 'til my tape popped
Smokin' weed and bamboo, sippin' on private stock
Way back, when I had the red and black lumberjack
With the hat to match
Remember Rappin' Duke, duh-ha, duh-ha
You never thought that hip hop would take it this far
Now I'm in the limelight 'cause I rhyme tight
Time to get paid, blow up like the World Trade
Born sinner, the opposite of a winner
Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner
Peace to Ron G, Brucey B, Kid Capri
Funkmaster Flex, Lovebug Starsky
I'm blowin' up like you thought I would
Call the crib, same number same hood
It's all good

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


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

[Verse Two:]

I made the change from a common thief
To up close and personal with Robin Leach
And I'm far from cheap, I smoke skunk with my peeps all day
Spread love, it's the Brooklyn way
The Moet and Alize keep me pissy
Girls used to diss me
Now they write letters 'cause they miss me
I never thought it could happen, this rappin' stuff
I was too used to packin' gats and stuff
Now honies play me close like butter played toast
From the Mississippi down to the east coast
Condos in Queens, indo for weeks
Sold out seats to hear Biggie Smalls speak
Livin' life without fear
Puttin' 5 karats in my baby girl's ears
Lunches, brunches, interviews by the pool
Considered a fool 'cause I dropped out of high school
Stereotypes of a black male misunderstood
And it's still all good

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

[Verse Three:]

Super Nintendo, Sega Genesis
When I was dead broke, man I couldn't picture this
50 inch screen, money green leather sofa
Got two rides, a limousine with a chauffeur
Phone bill about two G's flat
No need to worry, my accountant handles that
And my whole crew is loungin'
Celebratin' every day, no more public housin'
Thinkin' back on my one-room shack
Now my mom pimps a Ac' with minks on her back
And she loves to show me off, of course
Smiles every time my face is up in The Source
We used to fuss when the landlord dissed us
No heat, wonder why Christmas missed us
Birthdays was the worst days
Now we sip champagne when we thirst-ay
Uh, damn right I like the life I live
'Cause I went from negative to positive
And it's all...

(It's all good)

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

Representin' B-Town in the house, Junior Mafia, mad flavor, uh
Uh, yeah, a-ight



Everyday Struggle

I don't wanna live no mo'
Sometimes I hear death nocking in my front do'
I'm living everyday like a hustle
Another drug in trouble, another day another struggle

I know how it feels to wake up f*cked up
Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell
People look at ya like use to used
Selling drugs to all the loosers mad buddha abuser
But they don't know about the stress-filled day
Baby on the way mad bills to pay
That's why you drink tangarate
So you can reminisce and wish
You wasn't living so devilish s-shit
I remember I was just like you
Smoking blunts with my crew
Flipping oldies 62's
'Cause G-E-D was it B-I-G, I got P-A-I-D
That's why my mom hates me
She was forced to kick me out, no doubt
Then I figured out things went for twenty down south
Packed up my tools saw my raw power move
Black nineteen forcasted flower moves
Four drunks trying to stop my flow
And what they don't know will show on the autopsy
Went to see papi, the cock me a brik
Asked for circumcise and he wasn't trying to hear it
Smoking mad Newports 'cause I'm doing court for an assult
That I caught in Bridge Port, New York
Catch me if you can like the ginger bread man
You better have your gat in hand
'Cause man

I don't wanna live no mo'
Sometimes I hear death nocking in my front do'
I'm living everyday like a hustle
Another drug in trouble, another day another struggle

I had the master plan
I'm in the caravan on my way to Maryland
With my man Tutex to take over this projects
They call him Tutex, he tote tutex
And when he smoke the boss
He likes to ask who's next?
I got my honies on the Amtrack
With the crack in the crack of her ass
Two pounds of hash in the stash
I wait for hun to make some quick cash
I told her she could be lieutenant bitch got gassed
At last so I really really lounging Black
Seating back counting double digit thousands stacks
Had to read up see what's up with my peeps
Toyota dealer cars had it cheap on the jeeps
See who got smoked but rumors was spread
Last I heard I was dead with six to the head
Then I got the phone call
It couldn't hit me harder
We got infotrated
Like lino wa' the car
I heard Tec got murdered in a town I've never heard of
By some bitch named Alberta over nickel play the burnace
And my bitch swear to God she won't snitch
I told her where she hit the bricks I'll make the hooker rich
Conspiracy should be home in three
Until them I look south for the home family
A true G, got speed blowing like a bubble
In the everyday struggle

I don't wanna live no mo'
Sometimes I hear death nocking in my front do'
I'm living everyday like a hustle
Another drug in trouble, another day another struggle

I'm seeing body after body and our mayor Giuliani
Ain't trying to see no black man turn into John Gotti
My daughter use a potty so she's older now
Educated street knowledge I'ma mold 'er now
Trick 'er little dope bying young girls tringes
Dealing with the dope fiend binges
Seeing syringes in the veins
Hard to explain how I maintain
The crack smoke makes my brain feel so strange
Breaking days on the set no sweat from cold moet
Can't bag yet because's still wet
But when I dry back in five at a time
I can clock about nine on the check cashing line
I had to burst on the third
Rehearse that's my word
Thinking the game Ds knew my first name
Should I quit? Shit no!
Even though they had me scared
Yo they gotta eight I gotta teck with air holes

That's just how the shit goes in the struggle mother f*cker

I don't wanna live no mo'
Sometimes I hear death nocking in my front do'
I'm living everyday like a hustle
Another drug in trouble, another day another struggle



Me & My Bitch

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

[Verse One: Notorious B.I.G.]

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

[Chorus: Notorious B.I.G.]

Just me and my bitch [variations repeat to next verse]

But you know you love that ass, don't you?
[Puff Daddy]
Yeah, no question
No question
[Puff Daddy]
Yo, let me ask you another question
[Puff Daddy]
You ever f*ck around on me?
Why would I do that?
[Puff Daddy]
Yo don't lie to me motherf*cker

[Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.]

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


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

[Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G.]

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


Uh, yeah, yeah
Uh, motherf*cker yeah



Big Poppa

Uh, uh, check it out
Junior M.A.F.I.A., uh, um
(i like this, yeah)
Uh, yeah, 94'

[Notorious B.I.G. - Verse One]
To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
Allow me to lace these lyrical duches in your bushes
Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies?
The back of the club, sippin Moet, is where you'll find me
The back of the club, mackin hoes, my crew's behind me
Mad question askin, blunt passin, music blastin
But I just can't quit
Because one of these honies Biggie gots ta creep with
Sleep with, keep the ep a secret why not
Why blow up my spot cause we both got hot
Now check it, I got more Mack than Craig and in the bed
Believe me sweety I got enough to feed the needy
No need to be greedy I got mad friends with Benz's
C-notes by the layers, true f*ckin players
Jump in the Rover and come over
tell your friends jump in the GS3, I got the chronic by the tree

[Chorus by The Notorious B.I.G.]
(I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player
(I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies
(I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place
Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby

[Notorious B.I.G. - Verse Two]
Straight up honey really I'm askin
Most of these niggaz think they be mackin but they be actin
Who they attractin with that line, "What's your name, what's your sign"?
Soon as he buy that wine I just creep up from behind
And ask what your interests are, "who you be with"?
Things to make you smile, what numbers to dial
You gon' be here for a while, I'm gon' go call my crew
You go call your crew
We can rendezvou at the bar around two
Plans to leave, throw the keys to Lil Cease
Pull the truck up, front, and roll up the next blunt
So we can steam on the way to the telly go fill my belly
A t-bone steak, cheese eggs and Welch's grape
Conversate for a few, cause in a few, we gon' do
What we came to do, ain't that right boo (truuuueee)
Forget the telly we just go to the crib
and watch a movie in the jacuzzi smoke l's while you do me

[Chorus by The Notorious B.I.G.]
(I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player
(I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies
(I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place
Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby

[Notorious B.I.G. - Verse Three]
(How ya livin Biggie Smallz?) In mansion and Benz's
Givin ends to my friends and it feels stupendous
Tremendous cream, f*ck a dollar and a dream (whaat)
Still tote gats strapped with infrared beams
Choppin o's, smokin lye an' Optimo's
Money hoes and clothes all a nigga knows
A foolish pleasure, whatever
I had to find the buried treasure, so grams I had to measure
However living better now, Gucci sweater now
Drop top BM's I'm the man girlfriend
(Honey check it, (check it)
Tell your friends, to get with my friends (your freinds)
And we can be friends
Shit we can do this every weekend (that's right)
Aight? Is that aight with you?
Yeah... keep bangin)

[Chorus by The Notorious B.I.G.]
(I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player
(I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies
(I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place
Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby

[Biggie Ad libin']
Uhh, Check it out,
My full shit, for that ass,
Uhh, Puff Daddy, Biggie Smalls,
Junior M.A.F.I.A., represent baby bay-bay!




[Verse 1]

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

[Verse 2]

Now I'm thirteen, smokin' blunts, makin' cream
On the drug scene, f*ck 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 f*cked my flow up
Mom said that I should grow up and check myself
before I wreck myself, disrespect myself
Put the drugs on the shelf? Nah, couldn't see it
Scarface, King of New York, I wanna be it
Rap was secondary, money was necessary
Until I got incarcerated--kinda scary
C74-Mark 8 set me straight
Not able to move behind the great steel gate
Time to contemplate, damn, where did I fail?
All the money I stacked was all the money for bail

[Verse 3]

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



Friend Of Mine


No...f*ck the bitches, f*ck all the stank-ass hoes, all my
niggas know...Junior Mafia click, Gucci Don, you know how we play.
F*ckin' skanless-ass bitches. You know how it go Boots...I
meet a bitch, f*ck a bitch, next thing you know you f*ckin'
the bitch. You just pass it around and shit, pass the shit like
a cold and shit. F*ck'em.

[Verse 1]

Now when I'm f*ckin' those Jen I'm invincible
Don't love no hoe, that's my priciple
'cause uh, bitches come (and uh) bitches go
That's why I get my nut and I be out the f*ckin' door
(You know) they might be the one to set me up
Wanna get their little brother to wet me up
That's why I tote Tecs and stuff to get'em off my case
Just in case the little f*cker ends up misplaced
I don't give a bitch enough to catch the bus
and when I see the semen I'm leavin'
Bitches be schemin', I kid ya not
That's why I keep my windows locked and my Glock cocked
One hoe said, "Big, why you so hard on us?
Why you swear all bitches are so scandalous?"
Thug nigga 'til the end, tell a friend bitch
'cause when I like ya, then ya go and f*ck my friend bitch
(And you know that ain't right)


You know that ain't right

With a friend of mine [x4]

[Verse 2]

You see, I don't sweat these hoes
I keep'em in flavours like Timbo's and Jibbo's
Bitches just like to play the Mary though
(Yeah we know, drop the scenario)
It was me, Dee, the MPV
The blunts and brew thang, knockin' some Wu-tang
M-E-T-H-Oh shit, look at them lips and them hips on that bitch
Dee hit the dip, so I can drop my mackadocious shit
Light the blunt clip, and recognize a pimp
Needless to speak, the Gee's obsolete
Don't sleep! Banged the skins in a week
On the creep up the avenue
I seen her on the block, who she rappin' to?
That's my nigga Dee, damn he got Gee
Now she f*ckin' him and f*ckin' me, see
You know that ain't right

[Repeat chorus]

[Verse 3] I play her far like a moon play a star
She still sweat me hard 'cause I'm a rap star
I be cruisin' up the block, I be passin' her
Pimpin' hard with the female passenger
And the only time I call her to hang
Is when me and Dee blunted up, pissy, schemin' on a gang-bang
She should've used her intuition
Then she wouldn't be classified in that position, listen
She's sayin' I dissed her 'cause I'm f*ckin' her sister
A message to the fellas, that really gets'em pissed, uh
But she started that f*ckin' family
She f*cked my man Dee, so why she mad at me?
Plus your sister look better than you
Give head better than you, pussy get wetter than you
So break the f*ck out like a rash
I'm glad I ain't spend no cash to hit your nasty ass




[Verse One:]

Live from Bedford-Stuyverson, the livest one
Representin BK to the fullest
Gats I pull it, bastards duckin when Big be buckin
Chickenheads be cluckin in my bathroom f*ckin
It ain't nuttin, they know Big be handlin
With the Mac in the act all 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 f*ckin 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 f*ck 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 f*cked 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



Suicidal Thoughts


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

When I die, f*ck it I wanna go to hell
Cause I'm a piece of shit, it ain't hard to f*ckin' 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
F*ck 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 f*ckin' abortion
She don't even love me like she did when I was younger
Suckin' on her chest just to stop my f*ckin' 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 f*ckin' buddah head
The stress is buildin' up, I can't,
I can't believe suicide's on my f*ckin' mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is f*ckin' 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'.
(hey yo big...hey yo big)



Who Shot Ya

[Intro: Puff Daddy]

As we proceed
to give you what you need
9 to 5 motherf*ckers
get live motherf*ckers [x2]

As we proceed
to give you what you need
East coast motherf*ckers
Bad Boy motherf*ckers

Now turn the mics up
Turn that mic up, yea that beat is knockin
to that microphone
Turn that shit the f*ck up
Uh, what?
Turn it up louder
Yea, uh

As we proceed, to give you
what you need
J.M. motherf*ckers
J.M. motherf*ckers
9 to 5 motherf*ckers

[Verse One:]

Who shot ya?
Seperate the weak from the ob-solete
Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets
It's on nigga, f*ck 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
F*ckin 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 motherf*cker whispering about mines
And I'm, Crooklyn's finest
You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind this


As we proceed
to give you what you need
9 to 5 motherf*ckers
get live motherf*ckers

As we proceed
to give you what you need
East coast motherf*ckers
Bad Boy motherf*ckers

Get high motherf*ckers
Get high motherf*ckers
Smoke blunts motherf*ckers
Get high motherf*ckers
Ready to die motherf*ckers
9 to 5 motherf*ckers

[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 f*ck 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 motherf*ckers
Ready to Die motherf*ckers)

C'mere, c'mere [it ain't gotta be like that Big]
open your f*cking mouth, open your... didn't I tell you
don't f*ck with me? [*muffled* c'mon man] Huh?
Didn't I tell you not to f*ck 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 motherf*ckers) Can't talk with a gun in your mouth huh?
(get live motherf*ckers) Bitch-ass nigga, what?
(get live motherf*ckers) [muffled sounds, six gun shots]
(as we proceed...) Who shot ya?

[Outro: Puff Daddy] give you what you need
9 to 5 motherf*ckers
Get live motherf*ckers

(Who shot ya?)

Get high motherf*ckers
Ready to Die motherf*ckers
As we proceed...

(Who shot ya?) give you what you need
9 to 5 motherf*ckers
East coast motherf*ckers

(Who shot ya?)

West coast motherf*ckers...
West coast motherf*ckers... hah!
As we proceed, to give you what you need
As we proceed
to give you what you need
Get live motherf*ckers
9 to 5 motherf*ckers
Get money motherf*ckers

As we proceed
to give you what you need
Get live motherf*ckers
9 to 5 motherf*ckers
J.M. motherf*ckers
J.M. motherf*ckers
As we proceeeeeeed
To give you what you need...
9 to 5...



Just Playin' (Dreams)

[Verse Annotate1]
As I sit back relax, steam a blunt, sip a Becks
Think about the sexy singers that I wanna sex
I'd probably go to jail for fucking Patti LaBelle
Ooh Regina Belle, she'd probably do me swell
Jasmine Guy was fly, Mariah Carey's kinda scary
Wait a minute, what about my honey Mary?
Them jeans they fitting like a glove
I had a crush on you since Real Love
Hold your horses, I'mma show you who the boss of intercourse is
Sex, I'm taking no losses
Even groups like SWV and TLC
Can't see B.I.G. with telepathy
The recipe, a pinch of hardcore with a gun
Pimping ain't easy but it sure is fun
When I bust my nuts I bust 'em one by one
So what's the 4-1-1 hun?

Dreams of fucking an R&B bitch
I'm just playing... I'm saying
(Repeat x4)

[Verse 2]
I'll put Chante Moore pussy in stitches
I'll fuck RuPaul before I fuck them ugly ass X-Scape bitches
You can 76 the 69, try 68
Make Raven-Symoné call date rape
Only cause Im paid, I'm fucking all of Jade
And my DJ Zhane she likes it when they say
Everybody move your body
Got Whitney Houston boosting from Bobby
As I bust the cherry of Monica and Terry
Backshots to Chaka, I know that pussy hairy
Sade, ooh I know that pussy tight
Smack Tina Turner give her flashbacks of Ike
Smoke a stoge, fucking En Vogue because it's four of them
Jimmy hats for Patra, I'm using all of them
(What about Toni Braxton?)
If that bitch give me action, guaranteed satisfaction

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher

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