About "Ready To Die" album:
This page contains lyrics from the album
"Ready To Die" by Notorious B.I.G., which consists of 13 songs.
Uh, uh, check it out, (yeah) uh
Junior M.A.F.I.A., uh (um)
Uh, (i like this) yeah
Yeah, 94' (keep bangin)
[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?
I don't wanna live no mo'
Sometimes I hear death knocking at my front do'
I'm living everyday like a hustle
Another drug to juggle, another day another struggle
I know how it feels to wake up fucked up
Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell
People look at you like you's the user
Selling drugs to all the losers mad Buddha abuser
But they don't know about the stress-filled day
Friend Of Mine
No...fuck the bitches, fuck all the stank-ass hoes, all my
Niggas know...Junior Mafia click, Gucci Don, you know how we play.
Fuckin' skanless-ass bitches. You know how it go Boots...I
Meet a bitch, fuck a bitch, next thing you know you fuckin'
The bitch. You just pass it around and shit, pass the shit like
A cold and shit. Fuck'em.
C'mon Shorty stay push, c'mon
C'mon, c'mon push it's almost there
One more time, c'mon
C'mon push baby, one more time
Harder harder, push harder
Push, push, c'mon
(Fuck all you hoes) Get a grip motherfucker.
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'?
Machine Gun Funk
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
One More Chance
*Sound of phone hanging up
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.)
Hi daddy, how you doin', this is Tyiest, I was thinkin' about you last
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
(Hello? Aw shit, nigga. What the fuck time is it, man?
Oh god damn. Nigga do you know what time it is?
Aw shit, what the fuck's goin' on? You alright?
Aw, nigga what the fuck is wrong wit you?)
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
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 soft 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
Things Done Changed
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
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 Ac' door paneling
Bandaging MC's, oxygen they can't breathe
Mad tricks up the sleeve, red boxers so my dick can breathe
Who the fuck is this?
Pagin me at 5:46 in the mornin crack of dawnin
Now I'm yawnin, wipe the cold out my eye
See who's this pagin me and why..
It's my nigga Pop from the barbershop
Told me he was in the gamblin spot and heard the intricate plot
a niggaz wanna stick me like fly paper neighbour
Slow down love please chill drop the caper
remember them niggaz from the hill up in Brownsville?
that you rolled dice wit
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