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The Notorious BIG - Life After Death Album Lyrics



The Notorious BIG - Life After Death Lyrics






Notorious Thugs

[ Featuring Bone Thugs-n-Harmony ]

[Chorus: Bone-Thugz-N-Harmony]
Hey Biggie, Biggie! (Keep on ridin'!)
It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie!
It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie!
It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie!
It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie!
It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie!
It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie!
Let's ride, let's ride, let's ride!
Get high, get high, get high! [x4]

[The Notorious B.I.G.:]
Armed and dangerous! - Ain't too many can bang with us
Straight up weed no angel dust! - Label us, Notorious!
Thug-ass niggas dat love to bust,
It's strange to us!
Y'all niggas be scramblin' - gamblin'
Up in restaurants with mandolins and violins.
We just sittin' here tryna win, try not to sin
High off weed and lots of gin.
So much smoke need oxygen
Steadily countin' them Benjamins.
Nigga you should too - if you knew, what this game'll do to you
Been in this shit since '92! - Look at all the bullshit I been thru!
Sure caught beef with you-know-who
F*ck a few female stars or two!
Then a bluelight niggas knew like Mike-shiiit
Not to be f*ck with'.
Muthaf*cka betta duck quick
Cause me and my dogs love to buck shit!
F*ck the luck shit strictly aim
Go operation just to kick da game!
Spit yo' game! Talk yo shit!
Grab yo Gat! Call your clicks!
Squeeze your clip and hit the right one!
Pass dat weed I gotta light one!
All them niggas I gotta fight one
All them hoes I gotta like one!
Our situation is a tight one!
What u wanna do? - Fight or run?
Seems to me dat you'll take B,
Bone and Big nigga die slowly
I'm a tell you like a nigga told me,
Cash rule everything around me.
Shiiit! - Lyrically - niggas can't see me! - F*ck it!
Buy the coke, cook the coke, cut it,
Blow the bitch before you caught yourself lovin' it
Nigga with a Benz f*ckin' it.
Doesn't it seem odd to you?
Big comes thru with' mobs and crews
Goodfellas down to da Mo' Thug dudes,
Who's da killa? - Me or you? (me or you?)

[Interlude: Bizzy Bone]
We forgive you... for you know not what you do! [echoes]

[Bizzy Bone:]
Seven A.M. woke in da mornin' with' Henn and caffiene and green and nicotine!
No dough so pop a couple of dough, Lil' Rippsta, nigga mista clean!
Nigga deep! - Deep in my tumble and now to get - sentimentally steamed
With' my - instrumelody! - And heated especially ball your team,
And a.45; indeed will beam now between da scenes destroy your dreams,
You willin' to die we'll see - how many faces when I cause the scene, we mean
Mug, Mo' Thugs tryna be perfect - disciples,
When it's survival told by the double edged sword triple,
Six rivals spittin' fire this da real truth - bitch! Breakin' down for lies
My Messiah steady get ready for Armageddon shoot 6-5!
It's wild; bless da child! - The one dat became a man
Put in positions out and we perve! - All that I had to do was stare!
Test - me now! - Contend never no surrender no pretend
Pick up my pen! - And my hemp! - All in my trust a friend, friend.
Hey! - Open and let's see if ya' real! - We all suited dig
'Bout 4 in da mornin', maybe we ain't marchin' we shootin';
And then they recruitin' theirs they forgot! - Everyday in da ghetto,
We start em' off endin with hit em' up out with a pen and pad hit me led now kick it!

[Krayzie Bone:]
Nigga roll with' Bone up into da dayz of ours
To the dome with a shot or burn, never do toss on da curb
Me feelin' da urge to sperve,
When I'm broke as f*cks and givin dat Mossburg, swerve.
Up into my bag, cause I gotta get my mask and shells
To put in this 12'' Guage sawed off, get em' all off, nigga yo' loss, take it all off,
Got a nigga caught doe! - For the Bone and Leatherface seemin' to thug in da cut
To let da mo' how many pullin ain't nothin' bitch if ya stick em' we buckin' em guns,
That's f*cked up! - Now lemme get down with da crime, gotta go purchase a dime
Put in a state to get down for da crime, smokin' tha reefa to ease my mind; swig some wine!
Step on da block when da rocks what will l be servin' them dummies see
Gotta buck em' on down if he come back talkin' like gimme back my money.
Thuggin' with' me killaz, need us a leader or lick up when niggas ain't got shit
With a sawed off pump chrome.38 pistol now who ready to get Bent'.
Nigga like me feenin' for them green leaves, but I ain't had no dough
Gotta make some money so, I'm makin' my dummy rocks if I go broke.

[Chorus x2]

[Layzie Bone:]
Lil' Lay' hey comin' in a form of scripture. - Finna get ya and hit magic
Droppin' down lick but l call on my gadgets - with a automatic status we spray time
To load da Glocks
But l'm thinkin not!
There's another he forced tellin me do what l gotta do,
So I up my pipe a nigga die tonight - and I'm alwayz waitin for da boys in blue.
Biggie boots on my ass now go'n right the cellular phone and call Bone what's happenin'
Grab a ten of real niggas start packin', cause a muthaf*cka try to get me in a jackin'
And I did 'em! - Hit 'em right between the eyes da spot was wise
Wanna test a nigga's size
And it cost 'em nigga f*ck around with da wrong shit y'all
Get mo' murdered all day, all day.
We done paved da way and l'm on da run
I'm a call my boys and bring all da guns
Y'all niggas wanna have a lil' fun' with number one,
One, in a red, red rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum,
With' a red, red rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum!
With' a red, red rum!

[Chorus: 'til beat fades out]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Anthony Henderson, Bryon Mccane, Christopher Wallace, Sean Puffy Combs, Steven Howse, Steven Jordan
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Miss U

[ Featuring 112 ]

[Notorious B.I.G.]
Yeah, dedicatin this to my nigga O
We miss you nigga
Goin out to all the niggas that died in the struggle
Word up, shit is real in the field
You know, sparkin blunts to all you niggaz
Word up

Each and every day
The daydreams of how we used to be
See your family
And that baby's lookin just like you
Why'd you go away
I've been missin you lately
Tell me why you're gone and thru

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

I remember sellin three bricks of straight flour
Got my man a beat down to the third power
He didn't care, spent the money in a half hour
Got some fishscale, ain't no competition that could sour
Got the coke cooked up, a crackhead heaven
In eighty-eight, when Kane ruled, with Half Steppin
A thirty-eight, a lot of mouth, was our only weapon
We was king till the G's crept in
And now I'm missin em

[Chorus:]

Ooh, I'm missin you
Tell me why the road turns, why it turns
Ooh, I'm missin you
Nah nah nah nah nah, oh tell me why why why why

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

We work all week, we dancin, play the movies
We rock flatops, our girls rocked doobies
Made a killin, even though the D's knew me
Eventually, you know they try to do me
F*ck it
Fed up, my nigga want to take it down south
Sick of cops comin, sick of throwin jacks in his mouth
Gave him half my paper, told 'em go that route
Few months, he got his brain blown out
Now I'm stressed
His baby's mother, she trippin, blamin me
And his older brothers, understand, the game it be
Kinda topsy turvy
You win some, you lose some
Damn, they lost a brother
They mother lost a son
F*ck, why my nigga couldn't stay in NY?
I'm a thug, but I swear for three days I cried
I look in the sky and ask God why
Can't look his baby girls in the eye
Damn I miss you

[Chorus]

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

There was this girl around the way that make cats drool
Her name's Drew, played fools out they money in pool
People swore we was f*ckin but we was just cool
She used to hang while I slang my drugs after school
She'd watch my bomb, help my moms with the groceries
My little sister, the girl was kinda close to me
A little closer than the average girl's supposed to be
Far from a lover, my girl was jealous of her
Then she started messin with some major players
Handled keys, niggas called them the Bricklayers
A dread kid, had a baby fore that bitch Taya
Found out her baby's father cheatin, now Drew she gotta slay her
One night, across from the corner store
Taya ran around the block with a chrome four-four
Squeezed all six shots in the passenger door
The dude lived, what my baby had to die for
We missin her

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: LIONEL B., JR. RICHIE, KEIR GIST, DARREN LIGHTY, CHRISTOPHER WALLACE
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Another

[ Featuring Lil' Kim ]

[Biggie] Yeah... f*ck you
[Lil Kim] F*ck you too!
[B.I.G.] F*ck you bitch
[Lil Kim] F*ck you motherf*cker
[B.I.G.] You ain't shit anyway, f*ck you
[Lil Kim] You ain't shit, you fat motherf*cker
[B.I.G.] Yeah, whatever whatever
[Lil Kim] Whatevah
[B.I.G.] You wasn't sayin that when you was suckin my dick
[Lil Kim] You wasn't sayin that when you was eatin my pussy!
You a nasty motherf*cker!
[B.I.G.] Check it, uhh
[Lil Kim] Crab ass

[Chorus One: B.I.G.]

What do ya do when yo' bitch is untrue?
You cut that hooker off and find someone new
I need another bitch (another bitch), in my life

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

Uh-huh, uhh, uhh
I know he don't treat you like I treat you
Time to explain the game you see through
Sex is lethal, I ain't gon lie
Means to get ya back, I ain't gon try
Like this ya'll, my girl sucked anotha nigga dick y'all
Light skinned with the chrome die six y'all
Thought they was creepin, two trips to V-A every third weekend
While you was sleepin, he hit you on the box
Sixty-nine go non-stop
Shoulda left ya then, but my heart said not
You knew too much, the relationship grew too much
You knew about the crack vials, means to be trialed
Way I hid dough under the bathroom towel
Waited for a while, thought you was my right thing
Then things got frightening
Peep the scene, sorta like Sam Rosten
Guess you ginger, huh, go figure
Never thought you could be a gold digger
Take my dough and spend with the next nigga
Asked my man Trigga, my ace boom coon
Told me cut the bitch off 'fore the shit balloon
Now I'm like Brandy, Sittin In My Room
Pissy drunk listenin to Stylistic tunes
Or the O-Jays, thinkin bout the old days
My nigga's like, f*ck that bitch, go play
Baller, did she beep you? Don't call her
Guess who I seen, that freak bitch Paula
She was askin bout ya whereabouts
Here's the digits, I know you can wear that out
Tear that out the frame, ya game so tight
You'll be all f*ckin night

[Chorus Two: Lil Kim]

What do ya do when your man is untrue?
Do you cut the sucker off and find someone new?
I need another man, in my life

[Verse Two: Lil Kim]

Mmm, uhhh, uhhh!
Member when you said you would die for me, shit
All of that was just lies to me
Motherf*cker shoulda never said bye to me
Now you cry for me, like Jodeci
It's like that y'all, my nigga hit another bitch from the back y'all
Black nasty and matter fact ya'll
Shoulda seen the hoe, nigga pack ya shit
You out the door, ohh
What about the fight in the Mirage?
I seen ya Benz, parked outside my sister's garage
Said it was ya friend Rog, bullshit
I ain't gonna keep puttin up wit the bullshit
And still I, never sweat these bitches
Who be hanged like plaques on the wall and ya pictures
Scalin fishes, my love is concrete
Stashin ya heat in the passenger seat
of the Nautica Jeep, we've been down for so long
Still a bitch like me tryin to hold on
Teary eyed, damn a bitch steamin
Girls steady screamin, 'Kim you need to leave him!'
When I testified in court, couldn't think straight
thinkin bout the bitches I fought
over you, nigga half the shit you bought
And f*ck you, movin is my last resort
You see nine outta ten niggaz, ain't shit
One outta five niggaz suck a dick
Ya mad at me, too bad she ain't as bad as me
Choulda kept the freak bitch off my canape
Now you see, ain't no pussy warm as mine
Long as mine, ain't no love as strong as this
When I sucked ya dick, it's like smokin a roach
Uhh, I go from first class to coach

[Chorus One, Chorus Two, Chorus One, Chorus Two]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SEAN COMBS, HENRY JR., NORMAN INGRAM, NORMAN HENRY JR. INGRAM, KIMBERLY JONES, STEVEN A JORDAN, CHRISTOPHER WALLACE
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Going Back To Cali

[phone number being dialed]
[phone rings three times]
[Biggie] Yo!
[P. Dad] Yo Big wake up wake up baby
[Biggie] Mmm, yo...
[P. Dad] Yo Big wake yo' ass up c'mon
[Biggie] I'm up! I'm up. *mumbling* I'm up I'm up
[P. Dad] Big, wake up!
[Biggie] I'm up baby, what the f*ck, man? What's up?
[P. Dad] C'mon now it's a quarter to six we got the 7:30 flight
[Biggie] Mmm, *mumbling* yeah
[P. Dad] Yo Big Big, Big
[Biggie] Yeah I hear you dogg, I hear you, alright, 7:30
[P. Dad] Yo take down this information
[Biggie] Ain't no pen
[P. Dad] Tell your girl then to remember it or somethin
[Biggie] Aight honey, yeah write this down
[P. Dad] Aight, ummm, flight five-oh-four
[Biggie] Five-oh-four
[P. Dad] Leaving Kennedy
[Biggie] mumbling Kennedy
[P. Dad] On the L-A-X
[Biggie] Oh! Cali??
[P. Dad] No doubt baby, you know we gotta get this paper
[Biggie] Ahh, no doubt, aight
[P. Dad] You aight?
[Biggie] I'm up, I'm up
[P. Dad] Yo Big
[Biggie] I'm UP man
[P. Dad] Flight five-oh-four
[Biggie] Alright 7:30 I'ma meet you at the airport
[P. Dad] California
[Biggie] Yeh
[phone clicks]

[Verse One: Notorious B.I.G.]
When the lala hits ya lyrics just splits ya
Head so hard, that ya hat can't fit ya
Either I'm witcha or against ya
Format venture, back through that maze I sent ya
Talkin to the rap inventor
Nigga wit the game tight, Bic that flame right
Spell my name right, B-I, Double-G, I-E
Iced out lights out, me and Ceasar Leo
Gettin head from some chick he know
See it's all about the cheddar, nobody do it better
Going back to Cali, strictly for the weather
Women, and the weed -- sticky green
No seeds bitch please, Poppa ain't soft
Dead up in the Hood, ain't no love lost
Got me mixed up, you drunk them licks up
Mad cause I got my dick sucked
and my balls licked, forfeit, the game is mine
I'ma spell my name one more time, check it
Its the, N-O, T-O, R-I, O
U-S, you just, lay down, slow
Recognize a real Don when you see Juan/one
Sippin on booze in the House of Blues

[Chorus: repeat 4X]
I'm going going, back back, to Cali Cali

[Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.]
If I got to choose a coast I got to choose the East
I live out there, so don't go there
But that don't mean a nigga can't rest in the West
See some nice breasts in the West
Smoke some nice sess in the West, y'all niggaz is a mess
Thinkin I'm gon stop, givin L.A. props
All I got is beef with those that violate me
I shall annihilate thee
Case closed, suitcase filled with clothes
Linens and things, I begin things
People start to flash, 818's, 213's
313's, B.I.G.
Frequently floss hoes at Roscoe's
If I wanna squirt her, take her to Fatburger
Spend about a week on Venice Beach
Sippin Crist-o, with some freaks from Frisco

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G.]
Cali got gunplay, models on the runway
Scream Biggie Biggie gimme One More Chance
I be whippin on the freeway, the NYC way
On the celly-celly with my homeboy Lance
Pass hash from left to right
Only got five blunts left to light, I'm set tonight
Paid a visit to Versace stores
Bet she suck until I ain't got no more, only in L.A.
Bust on bitches be-lly, rub it in they tummy
Lick it, say it's yummy, then f*ck yo' man
F*ck your plan, is it to rock the Tri-State?
Almost gold, 5 G's at show gate
Or do you wanna see about seven digits
F*ck hoes exquisite, Cali, great place to visit
[Chorus]
[Chorus]
[Chorus: Again to fade]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Christopher Wallace, Ostin Harvey, Roger Troutman
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management, A SIDE MUSIC LLC D/B/A MODERN WORKS MUSIC PUBLISHING




Ten Crack Commandments

[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 f*cked 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 f*ck 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 f*cked 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 pasta bake up, word up, uhh

Crack king, Frank Blizzard
Uhh

[Chuck D] "One two three four five six seven eight nine"
"Ten"
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHRISTOPHER E MARTIN, KHARY TURNER, KHARY KIMANI TURNER
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Playa Hater

Good evening
And for my last hit
I'd like to take you back to the classic
B.I.G. Style of course
Uhh

Playa, turn your head round
Lay on the ground, you've been robbed
Wake up, open the door
Lay on the floor, you've been robbed

You know, we need this money
And you, yes baby, you, should just roll with me
Let's go off, together
On this robbin spree, we'll make money
Uhh
Playa, turn your head round
Take off that crown, you've been robbed
Wake up, open the door
Don't cry no more, you've been robbed

You see, there are two kind of people in the world today
We have, the playas, and we have, the playa haters
Please don't hate me because I'm beautiful baby

Hear what they talk, about me
But my crew so deep, you can't do, a damn thing, to me

Playa, open the door
Lay on the floor, you've been robbed
Wake up (wake your ass up), take off your jewels
You f*ckin fools, you've been robbed (this is a robbery nigga)
Playa playa (hater), Playa playa (hater)
Playa playa (hater), Playa playa (hater)
Playa hater (hater) Playa hater (hater)
Playa hater (hater) Playa hater (hater)

Uhh, thank you, thank you very much
Thank you thank you far too kind, far too kind
Thank you, thank you very much
Good night everybody, good night!
I love all of you, thank you thank you
Thank you, thank you very much
Good night!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SEAN N COMBS, WILBERT HART, STEVEN N JORDAN, CHRISTOPHER N WALLACE
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Nasty Boy

[Intro: BIG (Puffy)]
(Uh-uh, yea)
(I want a remix again)
(I think I want a remix again)
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew (ready Big)
Represtin all the freaky bitches
F*ck 'em all day and f*ck 'em all night
We don't love these hoes
(I want a remix again, I think I want a remix again)
(Bad Boy, 98)
You heard me
(B.I.G. the greatest, come on)

[Verse One: BIG (Puffy)]

Uhh, I go, on and on and on and
Don't take her to the crib and let your bone in uh
Easy, call em on the phone and
Platinum Chanel cologne and
I stay, dressed, to impress
Spark these bitches interest
Sex is all I expect
If they watch TV in the Lex, they know (they know)
They know, quarter past four
Left the club tipsy, say no mo' (say no mo)
Except how I'm gettin home, tomorrow (tomorrow)
Caesar drop you off when he see his P.O., uh
Back of my mind I hope she swallow (uh-huh)
Man She split a drink on my cream Wallows
Reach the gate, hungry just ate
Riffin, she got to be to work by eight
This must mean she ain't tryin to wait
Conversate, sex on the first date I state
"You know what you do to me"
She starts, "Well but I don't usually"
Then I, whipped it out, rubber no doubt (ow)
Step out, show me what you all about (yea)
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww (aoowww)
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
And I don't stop, until I squirt
Jeans skirt butt-naked it all work

[Chorus: Puffy]

Nasty (Envision dreams of passion)
Going through my mind (And all the while I think of you)
Nasty (A sexual reaction)
Makes me wanna ride (You nasty girl, you nasty)

[Verse Two: BIG]

I remember we, went to Tennessee (uh-huh)
Then we came home, mad messages was on my phone
Bitch named Symone
Screamin, she feenin for the semen
Me being the man that I am
Took it to her condo, pronto (uh-huh)
Half Indian, I called her Tonto
Roll the kronk ton in the dark pronto (eh-eh)
Few puffs, I got low
And off to the bedroom we go *hmm*
Sex is drama, head to trauma
Rip pajamas I'mma stay to tomorrow
Satisfying all my needs twice
With some whipped cream, handcuffs and ice
The bitch is nice, word is bond
Can't wait to put my niggaz on, what, what?

[Chorus: Puffy]

Nasty (Envision dreams of passion)
Going through my mind (And all the while I think of you)
Nasty (A sexual reaction)
Makes me wanna ride (You nasty girl, you nasty uh)

[Verse Three: BIG (Puffy)]

Ladies, my Mercedes
Hold four in the back (this is the remix), two if you fat
Keep a gat, cause cats (This, Is, the Remix), try to test me
They just fans like (Biatch) DeNiro, Wesley
Let's see the bitch I'm waiting on
Godier jeans look like they painted on
Ask thee, leave it up to me
Lay her on back ever so gently (yea)
She like the way the dope fold up, Rolls roll up
Cristal till she throw up, bitch grow up
Hold up, there's De Genera
Dripped out, iceberg Capero
Intro goes without speaking
Call me Cease cause I keep em, we can go freakin
All weekend, so, roll in
Ain't it good that my Lex keeps folding? Uhh
(Oww!)

[Chorus: Puffy]

Nasty (Envision dreams of passion)
Going through my mind (And all the while I think of you)
Nasty (A sexual reaction)
Makes me wanna ride (You nasty girl, you nasty)

[Outro: BIG (Lady) {Puffy}]

To all you bitches that wanna f*ck with me (Do you want a Nasty Boy?)
Freakin you bitches like Jodeci, I (Do you want a Nasty Boy?)
If I was dead broke you wouldn't notice me (Do you want a Nasty Boy?)
So I think BIG this is how it's supposed to be
(Do you want a Nasty Boy?)
To all you bitches that wanna f*ck with me
{Grand Master Flash, the Furious Five}
(Do you want a Nasty Boy?)
Freakin you bitches like Jodeci, I {yea, I see}
(Do you want a Nasty Boy?)
If I was dead broke you wouldn't notice me
(Do you want a Nasty Boy?)
So I think BIG this is how it's supposed to be
(Do you want a Nasty Boy?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SEAN COMBS, STEVEN A JORDAN, CHRISTOPHER WALLACE
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Skys The Limit

[ Featuring 112 ]

Baby, look at me, mama love you
And I know you ain't no little boy no more
But you'll always be my baby
It seems like only yesterday I was holding you in my arms
Now look at you now big, but I worry about you
I worry about you all the time, hangin' out on the corner
All times at night with the cruel people
Baby, that ain't nothin' but trouble
I always taught you that you could have whatever you dream
Well, I want you to hold on to that dream, baby
Hold on to it real tight, 'cause the sky's the limit

Good evenin' ladies and gentlemen
How's everybody doin' tonight? (alright, alright, alright)
I'd like to welcome to the stage, the lyrically acclaimed, ha (woo, woo)
I like this young man, because, when he came out
He came out wit the phrase, he went from ashy to classy
Haha, I like that (alright, alright)
So everybody in the house, give a warm (uh), round of applause for
The Notorious B.I.G. (ha)
The Notorious B.I.G. ladies and gentlemen, give it up for him, y'all

Uh, a nigga never been as broke as me, I like that
When I was young I had two pair of Lee's, besides that
The pin stripes and the gray (uh-huh)
The one I wore on Mondays and Wednesdays (uh)
While niggas flirt, I'm sewing tigers on my shirt
And alligators (uh)
Ya wanna see the inside, huh, I see ya later
Here come the drama, oh, that's that nigga with the fake, uh huh (blaow)
Why you punch me in my face? Stay in ya place
Play ya position (uh), here come my intuition (uh-huh)
Go in this nigga pocket
Rob him while his friends watchin'
That hoes clockin' (uh), 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 with 'em (uh), stole with 'em
I mean loyalty, niggas bought me milks at lunch
The milks was chocolate, the cookies, buttercrunch
'88, Oshkosh and blue and white dunks (everything will be alright)
Pass the blunt

Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep on pressin' on (gotta keep pressin' on)
Sky is the limit and you know that you can
(Gotta keep movin', gotta keep pressin' on)
Have what you want, be what you want
Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on (gotta keep pressin' on)
Just keep on pressin' on (gotta keep pressin' on)
Sky is the limit and you know that you can (oh-ooh)
Have what you want, be what you want
Have what you want, be what you want (oh whoa, oh yeah)

Uh-huh, I was a shame, my crew was lame (uh)
I have enough heart for most of 'em
Long as I got stuff from most of 'em (oh)
It's on, even when I was wrong I got my point across (uh-huh)
They depicted me the boss, of course (alright, alright)
My orange box-cutter make the world go 'round (hmm)
Plus I'm f*ckin, bitches ain't my homegirls now (alright, oh yeah)
Start stackin' (uh), dabbled in crack, gun packin' (uh)
Nickname Medina, make the seniors tote my ninas (uh-huh) (whoa-oh, ooh yeah)
From gym class, to English, pass off a global (woo)
The only nigga wit a mobile, can't you see like Total (yeah)
Gettin' larger in waist and taste (oh-ooh)
Ain't no tellin' where this felon is headin', just in case
Keep a shell at the tip of your melon, clear the space (yeah)
Ya brain was a terrible thing to waste (yeah)
Eighty-eight long gates, snatch initial name plates (uh)
Smokin' spliffs wit niggas, real life beginner killers (uh)
Prayin' God forgive us for being sinners, help us out (112 sing the chorus)

Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on (ooh baby)
Just keep on pressin' on (gotta keep pressin' on)
Sky is the limit and you know that you can
(Gotta keep movin', gotta keep pressin' on)
Have what you want, be what you want
Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on (ohh, gotta keep pressin' on)
Just keep on pressin' on (gotta keep pressin' on)
Sky is the limit and you know that you can (yeah, ooh)
Have what you want, be what you want (whoa ooh, yeah)
Have what you want, be what you want (oh, whoa, yes)

After realizin' (uh-huh), to master enterprisin' (uh-huh)
I ain't have to be in school by ten, I then (woo)
Began to encounter, with my counter-parts
On how to burn the block apart, break it down into sections (oh, yeah)
Drugs by the selections
Some use pipes (oh, yeah), others use injections (oh, yeah)
Syringe sold seperately (uh-huh), Frank the deputy (uh-huh)
Quick to grab my Smith & Wesson, like my dick was missin' (alright, alright)
To protect my position, my corner, my layer
While we out here, say the hustlas prayer (yeah)
If the game shakes me or breaks me (oh)
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 (uh)
Stay far from timid
Only make moves when your heart's in it
And live the phrase, "Sky's The Limit"
Motherf*cker, see you chumps on top

Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on (oh oh)
Just keep on pressin' on (gotta keep pressin' on)
Sky is the limit and you know that you can (gotta keep movin' on)
Have what you want, be what you want (gotta keep pressin' on, baby)
Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on (oh, oh, every day)
Just keep on pressin' on (we'll be alright)
Sky is the limit and you know that you can
(Keep on movin', keep on pressin' on)
Have what you want, be what you want
Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on (gotta keep pressin' on)
Just keep on pressin' on (gotta keep pressin' on)
Sky is the limit and you know that you can (every day will be alright)
Have what you want, be what you want (if you will, oh)
Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on (oh, gotta keep pressin' on)
Just keep on pressin' on (gotta keep pressin' on)
Sky is the limit and you know that you can
Have what you want, be what you want
(Everything will be alright if you will keep on pressin' on)
(Gotta keep pressin' on)
Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep on pressin' on (gotta keep pressin' on)
Sky is the limit and you know that you can (gotta keep pressin' on)
Have what you want, be what you want
Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on (oh, whoa, ooh)
Just keep on pressin' on
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bobby Caldwell, Sean Combs, Hubert Barclay Iii Eaves, Dj Clark Kent, Christopher Wallace, James N Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




The World is Filled...

[ Featuring Too Short, Puff Daddy, Carl Thomas ]

Make it hot
Make it hot
Make it hot
Make it hot

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
Oh, 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 f*cking with me, believe me that's a privilege
I won't be satisfied, till all my niggas get it
See you hit it then I hit it, we get it back to split it
And Big be that nigga we be flying through your hood
And hood rats scoping 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 f*ck the nigga next to you

The world is filled, with pimps and hoes
But we'll just talk about those I knows
Make it hot
The world is mine, can't you see
I'm just trying to be all I can be
Oh, yeah

When the Remi's in the system, ain't no telling
Will I f*ck em will I diss em, that's what these hoes yelling
I'm a pimp by blood, not relation
Y'all still chase on, I'll replace on, punks
Drunk of Dom, silk and gators
Spitting words making birds till they flock see you later
Whether, drunk or high, skunk or thai
Nigga play against some player shit, slugs goin' 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

The world is filled, with pimps and hoes
But we'll just talk about those I knows
Make it hot
The world is mine, can't you see
I'm just trying to be all I can be
Oh, yeah

I had a whole lotta bitches in my lifetime
I been blessed with the game always say the right lines
Had a few prostitutes 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 loving a rich man
Now here you come, drop top riding
You ain't no pimp fake nigga stop lying
Pussy makes money, stick to the business
Think about the real motherf*ckers 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 niggas
She was a hustler by nature, and you was just faker
Than the average symps, found a badder pimp
Too Short

Crazy ass man
I never would of 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 hoeing 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 f*cking 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 nothing but a hoe!
Bet you fell in love with her man!
You can't turn a hoe into a housewife fool
Every time you turn your back that bitch is f*cking with them gangstas
Eastside Westside these are my partners
Do that shit, you know what I'm talking 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, bitch!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: MASON BETHA, DERIC MICHEAL ANGELETTIE, SEAN COMBS, CHRISTOPHER WALLACE, TODD ANTHONY SHAW, ASHA PUTHLI GOLDSCHMIDT
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, MUSIQWARE PUBLISHING GMBH




My Downfall

[ Featuring D.M.C. ]

[phone rings]
[phone rings]
[B.I.G.] Yo
[heavy breathing]
[B.I.G.] Sup hello?
[heavy breathing]
[B.I.G.] Faith?
Motherf*cker [click]
[phone rings]
[B.I.G.] Yo
Kill you motherf*cker (voice speaking to Biggie is whispering throughout)
[B.I.G.] Hello?
Kill you motherf*cker
[B.I.G.] [sarcastically] WORD?
I'm gonna get you motherf*cker you better watch your motherf*ckin back
That's my word nigga
[B.I.G.] Get the f*ck outta here
Better watch your motherf*ckin abck
[B.I.G.] Watch my back? WORD?
I'm gonna get Biggie, I'm gonna kill Biggie
[B.I.G.] You soft dude, you soft
F*ck all you niggaz, you all ain't SHIT
Watch your motherf*ckin back
[B.I.G.] Eat a dick
[click]

Jealousy's a motherf*cker, you weak jealous motherf*ckers!
If you a jealous motherf*cker, you just a weak motherf*cker!
See when you on top, motherf*ckers just wanna bring you down!
Motherf*ckers don't even know you, and they don't like you...

[Notorious B.I.G.]
Uhh, I dreams filthy
My moms and pops mixed in with Jamaican Rum and Whiskey
Huh, what a set up
Shoulda pushed em dead off, wipe the sweat off
Uhh, cause in this world I'm debtor, squeeze lead off
Benz sped off, ain't no shook hands in Brook-land
Army fatigue break up teams, the enemies
Look man, you wanna see me locked up, shot up
Moms crotched up over the casket, screamin BASTARD
Cryin, know my friends is lyin
Y'all know who killed im filled im with the lugars from they Rugers
or they Desert, dyin ain't the shit but it's present
Kinda quiet, watch my niggaz bring the riot
Giving cats the opposite of diets
The game lure you down when you die no lie, lazy eye
I was high when they hit me, took a few cats with me
Shit, I need the company (uh-huh)
Apoligies in order, to T'Yanna my daughter
If it was up to me you would be with me, sorta like
Daddy Dearest, my vision be the clearest
Silencers so you can't hear it
Competition still fear it, shit don't ask me
I went from ashy to nasty to classy, and still

[DMC]
That's not all, MC's have the gall
To pray and pray for my downfall
Pray and pray for my downfall
Pray and pray for my downfall

[Notorious B.I.G.]
This goes out to cats, fingers in they ass again
Fifty dollar half-a-men, daydreamin
F*ck around get wet like semen, your whole team-and
be more gone than freemen
I took the cream and, moved to new places new faces
F*ck the screwfaces, when I flip
I make the papers, dangerous, we Goodfellas
Niggaz can't bang with us, try to do me
My crew be unruly (what)
To old school cats that call gats toolies
Call blacks moolies, think it's cool to smoke woolies
And f*ck without rubbers (what) specialize
in killin wives and grandmothers, who ya trustin, shit
When Frank start bustin, Frank start somethin
Killin ya gently, God meant me, to push a Bentley
Me and Sean Combs takin broads home
On the phone with the chip, these Cristal chips
bought to make our own porno flicks, my life's the shit

[DMC]
That's not all, MC's have the gall
To pray and pray for my downfall
Pray and pray for my downfall
Pray and pray for my downfall

That's not all, MC's have the gall
To pray and pray for my downfall
Pray and pray for my downfall
Pray and pray for my downfall

[Notorious B.I.G.]
We used to hold the gold, now we floss with diamonds
Niggaz want my team to stop shinin
Pray my fame start declinin
Windin night girlies
We been around the world twice, moats that'll smoke ice
in moonlights, sacrifice your heart
Lexus with the automatic start (what)
Fifty shots'll tear your club apart
Eatin shrimp outta cars, with some bitches from Brussels
Eatin clams or mussels
Uhh, out the puss (what) pretty face no waist
I just want the bush, so I can mack you
Give her a package to push, cause I work dem hoes
Den dey hoes, I show you how to play them hoes
Can you just visualize it
Before I go to sleep I check the beds and the closet
so I can sleep safe, not too many people mill in the briefcase
Infrareds help me sleep safe, but wait

[DMC]
That's not all, MC's have the gall
To pray and pray for my downfall
Pray and pray for my downfall
Pray and pray for my downfall

Y'all motherf*ckers live off of negativity
What y'all niggaz need to get through your motherf*ckin heads
Is that, y'all f*ckin with some niggaz that's on a higher
motherf*ckin level -- we don't give a f*ck
About what you think about less how you feel about us
What you got to say about us
We gon keep doin our motherf*ckin thing
From now till the year three thousand bitches!
You can't breathe, you can't sleep, you can't eat
without thinkin about us!
Without thinkin about us to the end!
We gonna kill you heartless motherf*ckers!

[DMC]
That's not all, MC's have the gall
To pray and pray for my downfall
Pray and pray for my downfall
Pray and pray for my downfall
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DARRYL MATTHEWS MCDANIELS, SEAN J. COMBS, CHRISTOPHER WALLACE, CARLOS DARONDE BROADY, NASHIEM MYRICK
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




Long Kiss Goodnight

[CHORUS]
TIME, TIME FOR YOU TA DIE
AS I KISS--YO--ASS--GOODNIGHT

I make yo mouthpiece obese like delawese
When I release, you loose teeth like Little Cease
Nigga please
Blood floods yo dungarees
And that's just a half of 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 wit no dough, tried ta play me at my show
I pull out 4-4's, and go up in they clothes
Short-change niggas
snort-cane niggas
extortion came quicker
Bought the Range' nigga
Ya still tickle me
I used ta be as strong as ripple, till Little Cease crippled me
Now I play hard-like my girls nipples be
The games sour like like a pickle be
Ya'll know da rules
Move from BK ta New Jerus
Thinkin bout, all the planes we flew
Bitches, we ran through
Now da years new
I lay my game flat
I want my spot back, take two
Muthaf*ckas mad cuz I blew, niggas envious
Too many niggas on my dick, shit's strenuous
When my men bust, you just move wit such stamina
Slugs missed ya
I ain't mad at'chya (we ain't mad at'chya)
Blood rushin, concussions, ain't nothing
Catch canes, come out frontin
Smokin something
Sippin White Russians, bitch in the Benz bumpin
I laced it wit the basic
6 TV's, a system, knockin Mase shit, face it
We hard ta hit
Guard ya shit, for I stick you, for ya re-up
Wipe the "P"
Mix shots, "work ya seat up"
Go in the ashtray, spark the weed up
LONG KISS

[CHORUS X 2]

UH-I flamin gats, aimin at, these f*ckin...
Maniacs put my name in raps--"support them"
Games dat
Like they hustle backwards
I smoke backwards, and Duchees
Ya can't touch me
Try ta rush me
Slugs go, touchy-touchy
Ya bleedin lovely, wit'chyo, spirit above me
or beneath me, ya whole life ya live sneaky
Now ya rest eternally, sleepy, ya burn when ya creep me
Rest where the worms-n-the weak be
My nine flies, baptize, rap guys
Wit the holy ghost
I put holes in most, you hold ya toast shakey
Slip-n-tryin ta break me
Look what'chyou made me do, brains blue
My team in the Marine blew, six-coupe
Skiid it out, weeded out, clean it out
The block for distance is, given long kisses bitch

[CHORUS X 2]

Frank White the menacin, craw-craw's demenacin
I got the lettuce in
You turn green like cucumber skin got the new hummer in the summer when I was
a new comer
then
drugs and mac-10's
Hug from fake friends
Make ends they hate'chyou, be broke girls won't date'chyou
That's why I relate to, choke yo ass till ya face blue, make you
Open the safe too
No matter how ya call it(how ya call it)
This "bralick",alcoholic
Like his weed green'd out like his brick solid
Distribute to kids who, take heart like Valentine, drink Valentine, all the
time
Slugs hit'chya chest tap the spine
Flat-line
Heard through the grapevine, ya got f*cked foe times
Damn that three ta nine, f*cked you up for real doe'
"Slink steal slow"
As you remorse we feel no

[CHORUS X 6]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ROBERT F DIGGS, CHRISTOPHER WALLACE
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group




You're Nobody (Til Somebody Kills You)

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 anoint 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, testing, coke measuring
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 crying
The kids, the dog, everybody dyin', no lying
So don't you get suspicious
I'm Big Dangerous you're just a little 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)

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)

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 f*ckin' 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
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SEAN COMBS, CHRISTOPHER WALLACE, GEORGE JOHNSON, STEVEN A JORDAN, ETHRAM LOPEZ, JEAN LOUHSDON, BILLY PRESTON
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Life After Death is the second studio album by American rapper the Notorious B.I.G., released on March 25, 1997, on Bad Boy Records and Arista Records. A double album, it was released sixteen days after his murder. It features collaborations with guest artists such as 112, Jay-Z, Lil' Kim, Mase, Bone Thugs-n-Harmony, Too $hort, Angela Winbush, D.M.C. of Run-D.M.C., R. Kelly, the Lox, and Puff Daddy. Life After Death exhibits the Notorious B.I.G. further delving into the mafioso rap subgenre. The album is a sequel to his first album, Ready to Die, and picks up where the last song, "Suicidal Thoughts", ends.

Life After Death sold 690,000 copies in its first week, peaking at No. 1 on the Billboard 200. It received widespread critical acclaim upon release and was nominated for Best Rap Album, Best Rap Solo Performance for its first single "Hypnotize", and Best Rap Performance by a Duo or Group for its second single "Mo Money Mo Problems" at the 40th Annual Grammy Awards.

The album is widely considered to be one of the greatest hip hop albums of all time. In 2020, it was ranked at No. 179 on Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.
Performed By: The Notorious BIG
Genre(s): East Coast hip hop, gangsta rap, mafioso rap, hardcore hip hop
Producer(s): Sean "Puffy" Combs (exec.), Mark Pitts (also exec.), The Notorious B.I.G., The Hitmen, Buckwild, Clark Kent, DJ Premier, Easy Mo Bee, Havoc, Daron Jones, KayGee, RZA
Released: March 25th, 1997
Year: 1997

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