keller c.

Remember back in the days, when niggaz had waves Gazelle shades, and corn braids Pitchin pennies, honies had the high top jellies Shootin skelly, motherfuckers was all friendly Loungin at the barbeques, drinkin brews with the neighborhood crews, hangin on the avenues Turn your pagers, to nineteen ninety three Niggaz is gettin smoked G, believe me Talk slick, you get your neck slit quick Cause real street niggaz ain't havin that shit Totin techs for rep, smokin blunts in the project hallways, shootin dice all day Wait for niggaz to step up on some fightin shit We get hype and shit and start lifin shit So step away with your fist fight ways Motherfucker this ain't back in the days, but you don't hear me though No more cocoa leave-io, one two three One two three, all of this to me, is a mystery I hear you motherfuckers talk about it But I stay seein bodies with the motherfuckin chalk around it And I'm down with the shit too For the stupid motherfuckers wanna try to use Kung-Fu Instead of a Mac-10 he tried scrappin Slugs in his back and, that's what the fuck happens when you sleep on the street Little motherfuckers with heat, want ta leave a nigga six feet deep And we comin to the wake To make sure the cryin and commotion ain't a motherfuckin fake Back in the days, our parents used to take care of us Look at em now, they even fuckin scared of us Callin the city for help because they can't maintain Damn, shit done changed If I wasn't in the rap game I'd probably have a key knee deep in the crack game Because the streets is a short stop Either you're slingin crack rock or you got a wicked jumpshot Shit, it's hard being young from the slums eatin five cent gums not knowin where your meals comin from And now the shit's gettin crazier and major Kids younger than me, they got the Sky grand Pagers Goin outta town, blowin up Six months later all the dead bodies showin up It make me wanna grab the nine and the shottie But I gotta go identify the body Damn, what happened to the summertime cookouts? Everytime I turn around a nigga gettin took out Shit, my momma got cancer in her breast Don't ask me why I'm motherfuckin stressed, things done changed My man Inf left a Tec and a nine at my crib Turned himself in, he had to do a bid A one-to-three, he be home the end of '93 I'm ready to get this paper, G, you with me?Motherfucking right, my pocket's looking kind of tight and I'm stressed, yo Biggie let me get the vestNo need for that, just grab the fucking gat The first pocket that's fat the Tec is to his back Word is bond, I'm a smoke him yo don't fake no moves (what?) Treat it like boxing: stick and move, stick and moveNigga, you ain't got to explain shit I've been robbin motherfuckers since the slave ships with the same clip and the same four-five Two point-blank, a motherfucker's sure to die That's my word, nigga even try to bogart have his mother singing "It's so hard..."Yes, love love you're fucking 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 fuck if you're pregnant Give me the baby rings and a #1 MOM pendantI'm slamming niggaz like Shaquille, shit is real When it's time to eat a meal I rob and steal 'cos Mom Duke ain't giving me shit so for the bread and butter I leave niggaz in the gutter Huh, word to mother, I'm dangerous Crazier than a bag of fucking Angel Dust When I bust my gat motherfuckers take dirt naps I'm all that and a dime sack, where the paper at? 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 'cos when I lick shots the shits is persistentHuh, 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 gripOne in the chamber, 32 in the clip Motherfuckers better strip, yeah nigga peel before you find out how blue steel feelfrom the Beretta, putting all the holes in your sweater The money getter motherfuckers don't have better Rolex watches and colourful Swatches I'm digging in pockets, motherfuckers can't stop itMan, 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 tooTell him Biggie took it, what the fuck he gonna do?I hope apologetic or I'm a have to set it and if I set it the cocksucker won't forget it Man, listen all this walking is hurting my feet But money looks sweet (where at?) in the Isuzu jeepMan, I throw him in the Beem, you grab the fucking C.R.E.A.M and if he start to scream "bam! bam!", have a nice dream Hold up, he got a fucking bitch in the car Fur coats and diamonds, she thinks she a superstarOoh Biggie, let me jack her, I kick her in the back Hit her with the gat...Yo chill, Shorty, let me do that... Just get the fucking car keys and cruise up the block The bitch act shocked, gettin shot on the spot (Oh shit! The cops!) Be cool, fool They ain't gonna roll up, all they want is fucking doughnuts (So why the fuck he keep lookin?) I guess to get his life tooken I just came home, ain't trying to see Central Booking Oh shit, now he lookin in my face You better haul ass 'cos I ain't with no fucking chase So lace up your boots, 'cos I'm about to shoot A true motherfucker going out for the loot So you wanna be hardcore With your hat to the back, talkin bout the gats in your raps But I can't feel that hardcore appeal that you're screamin, baby I'm dreamin This ain't Christopher Williams, still some MC's got to feel one, caps I got to peel some To let niggaz know... that if you fuck with Big-and-Heavy I get up in that ass like a wedgie Says who? Says me, the lyrical Niggaz sayin, "Biggie off the street, it's a miracle" Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me Just for niggaz actin shifty Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat'll kill you quicker Especially when I'm drunk off the liquor Smokin funk by the boxes, packin glocks is natural to eat you niggaz like chocolates The funk baby All I want is bitches, big booty bitches Used to sell crack, so I could stack my riches Now I pack gats, to stop all the snitches from stayin in my business, what is this? Relentless approach, to know if I'm broke or not Just cause I joke and smoke a lot Don't mean I don't tote the glock Sixteen shots for my niggaz in the pen Until we motherfuckin meet again Huh, I'm doin rhymes now, fuck the crimes now Come on the ave, I'm real hard to find now Cause I'm knee deep in the beats In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the Mac-10 by the seats For the jackers, the jealous ass crackers in the (car sirens) I'll make you prove that it's bulletproof Hold ya head, cause when you hit the bricks I got gin, mad blunts, and bitches suckin dick The funk baby So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side How I smoked funk, smacked bitches on the backside Bed-Stuy, the place where my head rests Fifty shot clip if a nigga wan' test The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya High as a motherfuckin helicopter That's why I pack a nina, fuck a misdeameanor Beatin motherfuckers like Ike beat Tina (What's Love, Got to Do) when I'm rippin all through your whole crew Strapped like bamboo, but I don't sling guns I got bags of funk, and it's sellin by the tons Niggaz wanna know, how I live the mack life Making money smoking mics like crack pipes It's type simple and plain to maintain I add a little funk to the brain The funk baby Who the fuck 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 wit smoked the blunts and got nice wit yeah my little Fame up in Prospect nah dey my niggas nah love wouldn't disrespect I didn't say dem, they schooled me to 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... They heard about the Rolex's and the Lexus wit 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 aint 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....?? so I can rip through the intricate 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 motherfuckers betta duck I leave stains on blood of what remains Had to jack-it, he had a gun he should've packed it Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket so I can reload and explode down ya rasshole I fuck around and get hardcore see 4 to ya door no beef no more feel the rush scandalous The more weed smoke I puff the more dangerous I dont give a fuck about you or your weak crew What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you Start runnin, nigga I bust my gun in Hold on I hear somebody comin....... As I grab the glock, put it to your headpiece One in the chamber, the safety is off release Straight at your dome homes, I wanna see cabbage Biggie Smalls the savage, doin your brain cells much damage Teflon is the material for the imperial mic ripper girl stripper the Henny sipper I drop lyrics off and on like a lightswitch Quick to grab the right bitch and make her drive the Q-45, glocks and tecs are expected when I wreck shit Respect is collected, so check it I got techniques drippin out my buttcheeks Sleep on my stomach so I don't fuck up my sheets, huh My shit is deep, deeper than my grave G I'm ready to die and nobody can save me Fuck the world, fuck my moms and my girl My life is played out like a jheri curl, I'm ready to dieAs I sit back and look when I used to be a crook Doin whatever it took from snatchin chains to pocketbooks A big BAD motherfucker on the wrong road I got some drugs tried to get the avenue sold I want it all from the Rolexes to the Lexus gettin paid, is all I expected My mother didn't give me what I want, what the fuck? Now I got a glock, makin motherfuckers duck Shit is real, and hungry's how I feel I rob and steal because that money got that whip appeal Kickin niggaz down the steps just for rep Any repercussion lead to niggaz gettin wet The infrared's at your head real steady You better grab your guns cause I'm ready, ready As I grab the glock, put it to your headpiece One in the chamber, the safety is off release Straight at your dome homes, I wanna see cabbage Biggie Smalls the savage, doin your brain cells much damage Teflon is the material for the imperial mic ripper girl stripper the Henny sipper I drop lyrics off and on like a lightswitch Quick to grab the right bitch and make her drive the Q-45, glocks and tecs are expected when I wreck shit Respect is collected, so check it I got techniques drippin out my buttcheeks Sleep on my stomach so I don't fuck up my sheets, huh My shit is deep, deeper than my grave G I'm ready to die and nobody can save me Fuck the world, fuck my moms and my girl My life is played out like a jheri curl, I'm ready to dieIn a sec I throw the tec to your fuckin neck Everybody hit the deck, Biggie bout to get some wreck Quick to leave you in a coffin, for slick talkin You better act like CeCe, and keep on walkin When I hit ya, I split ya to the white meat You swung 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 motherfuckin cheek drip The shit I kick, rip it through the vest Biggie Smalls passin any test, I'm ready to die! When it comes to sex, I'm similar to the thriller in Manila Honeys call me Bigga the condom filler Whether it's stiff tongue or stiff dick Biggie squeeze it to make shit fit, now check this shit I got the pack of Rough Riders in the back of the Pathfinder You know the ep along by James Todd Smith I get swift with the lyrical gift Hit you with the dick, make your kidneys shift Here we go, here we go, but I'm not Domino I got the funk flow to make your drawers drop slow So recognize the dick size in these Karl Kani jeans I'm in thirteens, know what I mean I fuck around and hit you with the Hennessey dick Mess around and go blind, don't get to see shit The next batter, here to shatter your bladder, it doesn't matter Skinny or fat or white-skinned or black, baby I drop These boricua mommies screamin "Aiy papi!" I love it when they call me Big Poppa I only smoke blunts if they roll propa Look, I gotcha caught up in the drunk flow Fuck tae kwon do, I tote da fo'-fo' For niggaz gettin mad cause they bitch chose me A big black motherfucker with g ya see All I do is separate the game from the truth Big bang boots from the Bronx to Bolivia Gettin Physical like Olivia Newt Tricks suck my clique dick all day with no trivia So gimme a hoe, a bankroll and a bag of weed I'm guaranteed to fuck her till her nose bleed Even if your new man's a certified mack You'll get that H-town in ya, you'll want that old thing back Is my mind playin tricks, like Scarface and Bushwick Willie D, havin nightmares of girls killin me She mad because what we had didn't last I'm glad because her cousin let me hit the ass Fuck the past let's dwell on the 500 SL, the E and J and ginger ale The way my pockets swell to the rim with Benjamins Another hon's in the crib, please send her in I fuck nonstop, lick my lips alot, used to lick the clits alot But lickin clits had to stop Cause y'all don't know how to act when the tongue go down below Peep the funk flow, really though I got the cleanest meanest penis, ya never seen this stroke of genius So take off your Tim boots and your bodysuit I mean the spandex and hit my man next Sex gettin rougher when it come to the nut buster Pussy crusher, black nasty motherfucker I don't chase em, I replace em and if I'm caressin em, I'm undressin em Fuck whatcha heard who's the best in New York For fillin fantasies without that nigga Mr. Rourke? Or Tattoo I got you wrapped around my dick And when I'm done I got to split shit Back shots is my position, I gotcha wishin for an intermission Fuck the kissin, lickin down to your belly button, I ain't frontin They don't call me B.I.G. for nuttin, all of a sudden 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 fuckin Fortune like the Wheel I squeeze gats till my clips is empty Don't tempt me You don't want to fuck with Biggie Welcome to my center Honies feel it deep in they placenta Cold as the pole in the winter Far from the inventor, but I got this rap shit sewed And when my Mac unloads I'm guaranteed another video Ready to die, why I act that way? Pop Duke left Mom Duke The faggot took the back way So instead of makin hoes suck my dick up I used to do stick-up Cause hoes is irritatin like the hic-CUPS Excuse me, flows just grow through me Like trees to branches Cliffs to avalanches It's the praying mantis Deep like the mind of Farrakhan A motherfuckin rap phenomenon, plus(I got more glocks and techs than you) I make it hot (Nigga won't even stand next to you) Nigga touch me you better bust me tree times in the head Or motherfucker's dead, ya thought so 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 goodUh, and if you don't know, now you know, nigga, uh 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 goodUh...and if you don't know, now you know, nigga 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... I know how it feels to wake up fucked 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 wasn't 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 ortopsy 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 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 two-tecs 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'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 When I met you I admit my first thoughts was to trick You look so good huh, I suck on your daddy's dick (yeah) I never felt that way in my life It didn't take long before I made you my wife (uh, yeah) Got no rings and shit, just my main squeeze Come into the crib, even had a set a keys During the days you helped me bag up my nickels In the process, I admit, I tricked a little (yeah) But you was my bitch, the one who'd never snitch (uhh) Love me when I'm broke or when I'm filthy fuckin rich And I admit, when the time is right, the wine is right I treat you right, you talk slick, I beat you right Moonlight strolls with the hoes, oh no, that's not my steelo I wanna bitch that like to play celo, and craps Packin gats, in a Coach bag steamin dime bags A real bitch is all I want, all I ever had (yeah, c'mon) With a glock just as strong as me Totin guns just as long as me, the bitch belongs with me Any plans with another bitch, my bitch'll spoil it One day, she used my toothbrush to clean the toilet (that's nasty) Throwin my clothes out the windows, so when the wind blows I see my Polos and Timbos Hide my car keys so I can't leave A real slick bitch, keep a trick up her sleeve And if I deceive, she won't take it lightly She'll invite me, politely, to fight G And then we lie together, cry together I swear to God I hope we fuckin die together 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 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 fuckin players Jump in the Rover and come over tell your friends jump in the GS3, I got the chronic by the tree 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 (How ya livin Biggie Smallz?) In mansion and Benz's Givin ends to my friends and it feels stupendous Tremendous cream, fuck 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 Nineteen-seventy somethin', nigga I don't sweat the date My moms is late so I had to plan my escape out the skins, in this world of fly girls Tanqueray and Hennessy until I cold hurl Ten months in this gut, what the fuck I wish moms'd hurry up so I could get buck wild, juvenile rippin' mics and shit New York New York, ready for the likes of this, uh Then came the worst date, May 21st 2:19, that's when my momma water burst No spouse in the house so she rode for self to the hospital, to see if she could get a little help Umbilical cord's wrapped around my neck I'm seein' my death and I ain't even took my first step I made it out, I'm bringin' mad joy The doctor looked and said, "He's gonna be a Bad Boy" Now I'm thirteen, smokin' blunts, makin' cream On the drug scene, fuck a football team Riskin' ruptured spleens by the age of sixteen Hearin' the coach scream at my lifetime dream, I mean I wanna blow up, stack my dough up So school I didn't show up, it fucked my flow up Mom said that I should grow up and check myself before I wreck myself, disrespect myself Put the drugs on the shelf? Nah, couldn't see it Scarface, King of New York, I wanna be it Rap was secondary, money was necessary Until I got incarcerated--kinda scary C74-Mark 8 set me straight Not able to move behind the great steel gate Time to contemplate, damn, where did I fail? All the money I stacked was all the money for bail Ninety-four, now I explore new horizons Mama smile when she see me, that's surprisin' Honeys is tantalizin', they freak all night Peep duckin' cops on the creep all night As I open my eyes and realizin' I changed Not the same deranged child stuck up in the game And to my niggas livin' street life Learn to treat life to the best, put stress to rest Still tote your vest man, niggas be trippin' In the streets without a gat? Nah, nigga you're slippin' If I'm pimpin on The F with weed on my breath Original hustler with the muffler on the Tec Respect to the Mac's and the Ac's To the freaks in the Jeeps, lick shots to my peeps Now when I'm fuckin' 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 fuckin' 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 fucker ends up misplaced I don't give a bitch enough to catch the bus and when I see the semen I'm leavin' Bitches be schemin', I kid ya not That's why I keep my windows locked and my Glock cocked One hoe said, "Big, why you so hard on us? Why you swear all bitches are so scandalous?" Thug nigga 'til the end, tell a friend bitch 'cause when I like ya, then ya go and fuck my friend bitch (And you know that ain't right) 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 fuckin' him and fuckin' me, see You know that ain't right Uh...now I play her far like a moon play a star She still sweat me hard 'cause I'm a rap star I be cruisin' up the block, I be passin' her Pimpin' hard with the female passenger And the only time I call her to hang Is when me and Dee blunted up, pissy, schemin' on a gang-bang She should've used her intuition Then she wouldn't be classified in that position, listen She's sayin' I dissed her 'cause I'm fuckin' her sister A message to the fellas, that really gets'em pissed, uh But she started that fuckin' family She fucked my man Dee, so why she mad at me? Plus your sister look better than you Give head better than you, pussy get wetter than you So break the fuck out like a rash I'm glad I ain't spend no cash to hit your nasty ass Live from Bedford-Stuyverson, the livest one Representin BK to the fullest Gats I pull it, bastards duckin when Big be buckin Chickenheads be cluckin in my bathroom fuckin It ain't nuttin, they know Big be handlin With the Mac in the 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 fuckin polka dots Who rock the spot? Biggie! You know how the weed yo, unbelievable B-I-G, G-I-E, AKA, B.I.G. Get it? Biggie Also known as the bon appetit Rappers can't sleep need sleepin Big keep creepin Bulelts heat-seekin, casualties need treatin Dumb rappers need teachin Lesson A - don't fuck with B-I, that's that, oh I, thought he was wack Oh come come now, why y'all so dumb now Hunt me or be hunted, three hundred and fifty-seven ways To summer sautee, I'm the winner all day Lights get dimmer down Biggie's hallway My forte causes caucausians to say He sounds demented, car-weed scented If I said it, I meant it Bite my tongue for no-one Call me evil, or unbelievable Buck shots out the sun roof of Lexus Coupe's Leave no witnesses, what you think this is Ain't no amateurs here, I damage and tear MC's fear me, they too near not to hear me Clearly, I'm the triple beam dream One thousand grams of uncut to the gut It seems fucked up, the way I touched up the grill Tryin to play gorilla, when you ain't no killer The gat's by your liver, your upper lip quiver Get ready to die, tell God I said hi And throw down some ice, for the nicest MC Niggaz know the steelo, unbelievable When I die, fuck it I wanna go to hell Cause I'm a piece of shit, it ain't hard to fuckin' tell It don't make sense, goin' to heaven wit the goodie-goodies Dressed in white, I like black Tims and black hoodies God will probably have me on some real strict shit No sleepin' all day, no gettin my dick licked Hangin' with the goodie-goodies loungin' in paradise Fuck that shit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice All my life I been considered as the worst Lyin' to my mother, even stealin' out her purse Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion I know my mother wished she got a fuckin' abortion She don't even love me like she did when I was younger Suckin' on her chest just to stop my fuckin' hunger I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes? Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies My babies' mothers 8 months, her little sister's 2 Who's to blame for both of them (naw nigga, not you) I swear to God I just want to slit my wrists and end this bullshit Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit And squeeze, until the bed's, completely red I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fuckin' buddah head The stress is buildin' up, I can't, I can't believe suicide's on my fuckin' mind I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin' callin' me Naw you wouldn't understand (nigga, talk to me please) You see its kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack Except when I cross over, there ain't no comin' back Should I die on the train track, like Remo in Beatstreet People at the funeral frontin' like they miss me My baby momma kissed me but she glad I'm gone She knew me and her sista had somethin' goin' on I reach my peak, I can't speak, call my nigga Chic, tell him that my will is weak. I'm sick of niggas lyin', I'm sick of bitches hawkin', matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'.