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ntro: Biggie

Uhh, check it out, uhh
*singing* I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!
Fuck all that pretty shit
Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers
Niggaz know the deal
Niggaz know who the Don is
Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one
Peep game, uhh, what, what

Verse One: Puff Daddy

Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars
Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars
We built them radars to stay free from the cops
Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop
Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke
Your squad arti-choke
Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke
Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show
Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre
Through hard work I earn the vault
Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt
Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings
Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things
Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake
When you all fucked up, and can't get no break
When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it
Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it
Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit
That's what I did, now they all askin for hits
Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known
We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own
Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous
Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us
Why niggaz bring the ruckus?
Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers

Chorus:

Just some ghetto boys
Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets
And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive
It's just reality

Verse Two: Jay-Z

Yeah, make you a deal, check
These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed
I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead
So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead
Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head
I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread
Some say I been here before because of the way I zone
Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome
Reoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing
Won't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones
Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own
In the physical, onee seems, like a lost body
In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body
But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me
to the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause
I got it locked like the late Bob Marley
Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley
Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone
Niggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born
Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order
So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters
You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it
Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it
Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie
Had a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)
I hated algebra but I loved to multiply
And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die
It's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way
Cause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way

Chorus

Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G.

Damn it feel good to see people up on it

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Още текстове от P. Diddy (Puff Daddy)