Off the strength of his seminal debut, Illmatic, Nas was crowned the new King of New York in 1994, but it wasn’t before Biggie showed up with “Juicy” and his double platinum-selling Ready to Die, snatching the throne in the process. 357 slugAnd my nigga biggie got an itchy one gripOne in the chamber, 32 in the clipMotherfuckers better strip, yeah nigga peelBefore you find out how blue steel feelFrom the beretta, putting all the holes in your sweaterThe money getter motherfuckers don't have betterRolex watches and colourful swatchesI'm digging in pockets, motherfuckers can't stop itMan, niggaz come through I'm taking high school rings tooBitches get stripped down for they earrings and banglesAnd when I rock her and drop her I'm taking her door knockersAnd 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 itAnd if I set it the cocksucker won't forget itVerse three:Man, listen all this walking is hurting my feetBut money looks sweet (where at? ) in the isuzu jeepMan, I throw him in the beem, you grab the fucking c.r.e.a.mAnd if he start to scream bam! bam!, have a nice dreamHold up, he got a fucking bitch in the carFur coats and diamonds, she thinks she a superstarOoh biggie, let me jack her, I kick her in the backHit her with the gat.Yo chill, shorty, let me do that.In the mid-90s, there were a lot of rappers vying for the King of New York throne, whether it was Raekwon from Shaolin, Prodigy repping Mobb Deep or Brooklyn’s own, Jay-Z.īut there were two rappers who stood out amongst all the others – Nas and The Notorious B.I.G.
biggie smalls, one:My man inf left a tec and a nine at my cribTurned himself in, he had to do a bidA one-to-three, he be home the end of '93I'm ready to get this paper, g, you with me? Motherfucking right, my pocket's looking kind of tightAnd I'm stressed, yo biggie let me get the vestNo need for that, just grab the fucking gatThe first pocket that's fat the tec is to his backWord 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 shitI've been robbin motherfuckers since the slave shipsWith the same clip and the same four-fiveTwo point-blank, a motherfucker's sure to dieThat's my word, nigga even try to bogartHave his mother singing it's so hard.Yes, love love you're fucking attitudeBecause the nigga play pussy that's the nigga that's getting screwedAnd bruised up from the pistol whippingWebs on the neck from the necklace strippingThen I'm dipping up the block and I'm robbing bitches tooUp the herring bones and bamboosI wouldn't give fuck if you're pregnantGive me the baby rings and a #1 mom pendantI'm slamming niggaz like shaquille, shit is realWhen it's time to eat a meal I rob and steal'cos mom duke ain't giving me shitSo for the bread and butter I leave niggaz in the gutterHuh, word to mother, I'm dangerousCrazier than a bag of fucking angel dustWhen I bust my gat motherfuckers take dirt napsI'm all that and a dime sack, where the paper at? Verse two:Big up, big up, it's a stick up, stick upAnd I'm shooting niggaz quick if you hiccupDon't let me fill my clip up in your back and head pieceThe opposite of peace sending mom duke a wreathYou're talking to the robbery expertStepping to your wake with your blood on my shirtDon't be a jerk and get smoked over being resistant'cos when I lick shots the shits is persistentHuh, goodness gracious the papersWhere the cash at? where the stash at? Nigga, pass that before you get your grave dugFrom the main thug.
0 kommentar(er)
