THE NOTO RIO U S B. I . G
EBO NIC S > ENGL IS H
1972 – 1997
CH R I S TOP H E R WA L L ACE
Ebonics > English
Party & Bullshit Machine Gun Funk Juicy Everyday Struggles Suicidal Thoughts Me & My Bitch Kick in the Door What’s Beef Nigga’s Bleed I got a Story to Tell Miss U Ten Crack Commandments
Party & Bullshit. I was a terror since the public school era. Bathroom passes, cutting classes, squeezing asses.
Hugs from the honeys, pounds from the roughnecks. Seen my man Sage that I knew from the projects.
Bitches in the back looking righteous. In a tight dress,
Said he had beef, asked me if I had my piece. Sure do, two .22’s in my shoes.
Hit her with a little Biggie 101, how to tote a gun and have fun with Jamaican rum.
Holler if you need me love I’m in the house. Roam and stroll see what the honeys is about.
Conversation, blunts in rotation. My man Big Jock got the Glock in his waist and we’re,
Now I got the Mac in my knapsack. Lounging black, smoking sacks up in Ac’s and Sidekicks, with my sidekicks rocking fly kicks.
Moet popping, ho hopping, ain’t no stopping Big Poppa...
Smoking, drinking, got the hooker thinking, If money smell bad than this nigga Biggie stinking.
Honeys want to chat. But all we wanna know is where the party at. And can I bring my gat?
Niggas wanna front, who got your back?
Smoking blunts was a daily routine. Since 13! A chubby nigga on the scene. I used to have the trey-deuce. And the deuce-deuce in my bubblegoose.
If not, I hope I don’t get shot. Better throw my vest on my chest, cause niggas is a mess. It don’t take nothing but fronting for me to start something. Bugging and bucking at niggas like I was duck hunting. Dumbing out, just me and my crew. Cause all we wanna do is... [HOOK] Party... And bullshit, and... Party... And bullshit, and... Party... And bullshit, and... Party... And bullshit, and... Party... And bullshit, and... Party... And bullshit, and... Party... And bullshit, and... Party... And bullshit, and...
I’m a Bad Boy!
Biggie! Niggas wanna flex, who got the gat? Biggie! It ain’t hard to tell I’m the east coast overdose. Nigga you scared you’re supposed to. Nigga, I toast you. Put fear in your heart. Fuck up the party before it even start. Pissy drunk, off the Henny and skunk. On some Brand Nubian shit beating down punks.
I think I might just.
Is it my charm? I got the hookers eating out my palm. She grabbed my arm and said, “Let’s leave calm.” I’m hitting skins again. Rolled up another blunt, bought a Heineken. Niggas start to loc out, a kid got choked out. Blows was thrown and a fucking fight broke out... “Yo chill, man, chill!” ...Can’t we just all get along? So I can put hickies on her chest like Little Shawn. Get her pissy drunk off of Dom Perrignon. And it’s on, and I’m gone. That’s that.. [HOOK]
June 29, 1993 (Single)
Ready to Die
Easy Mo Bee
I have been a rapscallion since I I’m greeted affectionately was a young man. In possession of a from beautiful women & receive bathroom pass, you wouldn’t see me recognition from other alpha males. again for the rest of the period. I saw my friend ‘Sage’ that I knew I have been a regular marijuana from the housing projects. He told smoker from a... me he was having some difficulties & asked if I could be of assistance.
I was portly in my adolescence, loitering on the avenues.
Of course, I have a 22-caliber pistol concealed in each of my shoes.
Let me know if you desire anything I would conceal a .22 & .32 calibre ladies, I’m currently inside the pistol in my puffy down jacket. residence. Making my way around & casually assessing the desires of the Now that I am more mature, I prefer something more domineering, attractive women present. I conceal a Semi-automatic machine Abundances of ‘Moët Chandon’ gun in my backpack. Champagne to go around. Carousing through various women, nothing I fancy relaxing & smoking can stop me as my attitude & marijuana in my Acura or a Suzuki associations reflect... Sidekick with friends, all of whom must wear clean, fashionable shoes Bad Boy records. in my vehicles. If a group of bachelor males Girls want to understand me, but becomes socially aggressive, who my interests are purely focused on the location of a party & whether or can assist you? not I am able carry a firearm there. Possessing a weapon at parties relieves my paranoia that I may be severely injured by somebody. Not everyone can be relied upon to be a rational actor & for this reason I wear a bullet proof vest. I will personally get into arguments over trifles, verbally & physically assaulting individuals it’s game play. Celebrating & acting absurdly are primary interests of my associates. Because our only concern is... [CHORUS]
Celebrate & Conversate, &... Celebrate & Conversate, &... Celebrate & Conversate, &... Celebrate & Conversate, &... Celebrate & Conversate, &... Celebrate & Conversate, &... Celebrate & Conversate, &... Celebrate & Conversate, &...
Mr. Wallace! Who can produce a firearm to settle the dispute swiftly?
Mr. Wallace! It’s not difficult to determine I’m the east coasts greatest talent, Your quite fearful, which is expected because I will verbally assault you. I place fear inside peoples hearts & my well known reputation can ruin a party prematurely. Getting extremely intoxicated, drinking Hennessy & smoking marijuana while listening to Brand Nubian’s hit single ‘Punks jump up to get Beat Down” [CHORUS]
Girls to the rear of the shindig look gorgeous wearing slim fitting dress.’ I feel the innate desire to... Impart my wisdom upon them. Enlighten them on how to conceal a firearm & enjoy an evening drinking Jamaican rum. Conversing while marijuana circulates the room, my friend ‘Big Jock’ ensures our security is secure. While we’re smoking & drinking my large quantities of intoxicants and finances are causing quite an aroma & women are taking notice. I contemplate whether it is my charm or my financial independence that these women are attracted to. A gentlewomen clutched my arm & stated “Let’s withdraw composed” Again I’m having intercourse & smoking marijuana before rolling another ‘Philadelphia Cigar’ with cannabis & purchasing some Heineken beer. Men at the party started to act recklessly, a younger man was choked unconscious, punches were exchanged & as you can imagine a dispute erupted.
“Hey, relax, chaps relax!” Can we act like civilized individuals? “Putting Hickeys on Your Chest” like Little Shawn’s hit single. Get this beautiful girl intoxicated drinking Dom Perrignon. Fulfilling my plans to take her home as I depart. That’s that... [CHORUS]
Machine Gun Funk. So you wanna be hardcore! With your hat to the back, Talking ‘bout the gats in your raps. But I can’t feel that hardcore appeal that you’re screaming, Maybe I’m dreaming. This ain’t Christopher Williams. Still some. MC’s got to feel one. Caps, I got to peel some. To let niggas know. That if you fuck with big-and-heavy, I get up in that ass like a wedgie. Says who - Says me, the lyrical. Niggas saying: “Biggie off the street, it’s a miracle!” Left the drugs alone, Took the thugs along, with me, Just for niggas acting shifty. Sticks and stones break bones, But the gat’ll kill you quicker, ‘specially when I’m drunk off the liquor. Smoking blunts by the boxes, packing Glocks, It’s natural to eat you niggas like chocolates. The funk, baby [HOOK] I live for the funk, I’ll die for the funk.
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 staying 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 16 shots for my niggas in the pen. Until we motherfucking meet again. I’m doing 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 ...
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, 50-shot clip if a nigga want test, the rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya, High as a motherfuckin’ helicopter. That’s why I pack a Nina, fuck a misdemeanour, Beating motherfuckers like Ike beat Tina. “What’s love got to do?” When I’m ripping all through your whole crew. Strapped like Bamboo, But I don’t sling guns, I got bags of funk and it’s selling by the tons. Niggas want to 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.
I’ll make you prove that it’s bullet proof.
The funk, baby
Hold your head, cause when you hit the bricks, I got gin, mad blunts, and bitches sucking dick The funk, baby [HOOK]
You long to be a staunch criminal outlaw. You emulate the language & the appearance but your cowardice is transparent, I doubt the credit of your verbose stories of criminality. Perhaps this is a dream & you have me confused with R&B tragic Christopher Williams. I take action in these situations, Musicians need to understand the credibility of my aggression. I take pleasure in harming such disreputable characters, it serves as a warning to all my enemies. That if you provoke me I invade & harm every aspect of your personal & professional life. I stand alone as the best rapper alive, without my presence in the drug business my rivals rejoice. Whilst withdrawing from the lifestyle I brought accomplices with me to deal with deceitful executives & financiers. My musical lyrics cannot harm you but the bullets from my pistols can, which is particularly likely to occur when I’m intoxicated. I smoke large quantities of cannabis filled cigars while owning & operating illegal firearms. It’s only natural that I devour insignificant rappers, identical in manner to my eating habits. This music and marijuana lifestyle. [CHORUS]
I exist for this music, I’ll perish for this music.
September 13, 1994
Ready to Die
All I desire is women. Large posteriored women. I once turned to drugs to support myself & I continue to carry a weapon to defend my weaknesses.
Your now aware with the dichotomy between my criminal past & current social status. Consistently smoking marijuana & squeezing women’s derrieres.
I fail to understand people desire to know the details of my finances, just because I smoke boundlessly & have a friendly demeanour doesn’t mean I wont fire my pistol.
Bedford-Stuyvesant is the place I call home, where I store additional ammunition for confrontations.
A toast of music, alcohol & revenge for my friends in the penitentiary, I long for the days of their release.
I’m not concerned with being charged for owning illegal firearms, I beat court cases & enemies in a similar fashion to Ike & Tina Turners violent domestic relationship.
I’m strictly making music nowadays & vigorously avoiding involvement in any serious crime. You wont find me regularly hanging out on Fulton St. any more, I’ve moved on with my life. Despite leaving that lifestyle behind I still carry a machine gun in my SUV, lest a larcenist or
**Corrupt Police officers** Tries to take advantage, they’ll have to deal with bulletproof glass first. Keep yourself composed, because when you come to my neighbourhood I’ve got an abundance of alcohol, marijuana & women for you to share. This music and marijuana lifestyle. [CHORUS]
Similar to a ballistic missile, I strike with deadly force while inebriated.
Unlike Tina’s hit love & friendship wont have anything ‘to do’ with taking apart your organisation. I relate to ‘Bamboo’ from 1993 movie Strapped’, however instead of guns I hold large quantities of marijuana on my person. Everyone tries to understand my extravagant lifestyle, substantial finances & abusing the competition like drug paraphernalia. The key to my composure is simple. Indulging in Tetrahydrocannabinol to the Cerebrum. This music and marijuana lifestyle. [CHORUS]
Juicy. Yea...This album is dedicated to all the teachers that told me I’d never amount to nothing, to all the people that lived above the buildings that I was hustling in front of that called the police on me when I was just trying to make some money to feed my daughter, and all the niggas in the struggle, you know what I’m saying? It’s all good baby baby.
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 Bambu, 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 Starski. I’m blowin up like you thought I would. Call the crib, same number same hood. It’s all good. And if you don’t know, now you know, nigga. –
I made the change from a common thief. To up close and personal with Robin Leach.
Super Nintendo, Sega Genesis. When I was dead broke, man I couldn’t picture this.
And I’m far from cheap. I smoke skunk with my peeps all day. Spread love, it’s the Brooklyn way.
50-inch screen, money green leather sofa. Got two rides, a limousine with a chauffeur.
The Moet and Alizé keep me pissy. Girls used to diss me. Now they write letters cause they miss me.
Phone bill about two G’s flat. No need to worry, my accountant handles that.
I never thought it could happen, this rappin stuff. I was too used to packin GATs and stuff.
And my whole crew is lounging. Celebrating every day, no more public housing.
Now honeys play me close like butter play toast. From the Mississippi down to the east coast.
Thinking back on my one-room shack, Now my mom pimps a Ac with minks on her back.
Condos in Queens, indo for weeks. Sold out seats to hear Biggie Smalls speak.
And she loves to show me off, of course. Smiles every time my face is up in The Source.
Livin life without fear. Puttin 5 karats in my baby girl’s ear. 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 good Uh... and if you don’t know, now you know, nigga –
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... (It’s all good) ...and if you don’t know, now you know, nigga –
August 8, 1994 (Single)
Ready to Die
Poke of Trackmasters & Pete Rock
Yes...This album is dedicated to all the educators who said I would never contribute to society, to all the residents of the buildings I sold drugs in front of, who called the law enforcement on me when I was simply trying to earn money to feed my daughter & to all the under class still striving to survive. Understand what I’m talking about?
Everything is as it should be.
It was all a fantasy.
I made a change in my lifestyle from committing petty crimes I used to digest Word Up magazine, daily to associating with television that famous visual of Salt ‘N’ Pepa & personalities like Robin Leach. heavy D in a limousine stays burnt & I share my wealth, I smoke in my brain. marijuana with my friends all day. Hanging posters of my idols on my Spreading love is an attitude shared bedroom wall. Listening to the ‘Rap by people throughout Brooklyn. Attack’ radio show hosted by Mr. I drink Moet & Alizé to achieve Magic & DJ’d by Marley Marl. intoxication. Girls who would never Listening to my rap tapes to it’s give me the time of day are all over furthermost point. me because of my new found fame. Smoking marijuana with Bambu I never imagined music could take rolling papers & drinking Private me where it has, as a teenager I stock malt liquor was tradition. wasn’t focused on rapping despite This all occurred some time ago having a talent for it. now, when I used to wear a red & Now girls from across the entire black lumberjack jacket, I also wore east coast enjoy my company. a hat to match the style. Spending my time in luxury homes Do you remember early hip-hop & smoking high grade marijuana. star Rappin Duke? With his catchy I sell out shows regularly, people chorus duh-ha! duh-ha! People really love my music. believed Rappin Duke to be the I don’t have to worry about pinnacle of hip-hop culture. my financial future anymore, I Now I’m experiencing fame particularly enjoy spoiling my because of my lyrical skills. My daughter whenever I get the chance. success is having a large impact on Living the high life, enjoying New York like the 1993 World Trade lunches & brunches by the pool, my Centre bombing. whole life has become excess. Being born in Bed-Stuy you’re born Who would have thought I could into sin, no confidence in a positive achieve so much after dropping out change of life. I can remember times of school at 17. in my life when I only had the finances I was afraid that I would be for inexpensive sardines for dinner. seen as an unintelligent, teenage I give my respects to all hip-hop black hooligan, when in fact I am DJs from the 80’s & early 90’s. obviously gifted with poetry & I owe my success to everyone who language skills. believed in me as a rapper. I still use Everything is as it should be. the same phone number & live in the same neighbourhood, I haven’t & if you weren’t aware, forgotten anyone because of fame. now you are aware, friend. Everything is as it should be.
& if you weren’t aware, now you are aware, friend. –
I couldn’t have imagined owning the assets that I do now. Living in excess, my furniture is the colour of currency, I even own my own limousine & chauffeur. $2000 no longer worries me, in fact my phone bill often succeeds this. I have an accountant to deal with these minor financial issues. I ensure the comfort of all my friends & family, none of them will live in a housing projects again. Reminiscing on the one-room apartment that grew up in with my mother, now she drives an Acura & wears mink coats. My mother needn’t be ashamed of my lifestyle any longer, she loves to parade me & is particularly proud when she see’s my portrait on the cover of ‘The Source’ magazine. Gone are the days of worrying about paying rent to our landlord & living without heat. I wonder why good things never happened to me & my family then. Birthday’s were a particularly depressing time of year, now we live above our means & appreciate it. Nothing makes me happier than the life I am living, Especially when I reflect it against my negative past. & everything is as it should be.
& if you weren’t aware, now you are aware, friend. –
Everyday struggles. [HOOK]
I don’t wanna live no more. Sometimes I hear death knocking at my front door. I’m living everyday like a hustle. Another drug to juggle, another day, another struggle.
I know how it feel 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 your stress-filled day. Baby on the way, mad bills to pay. That’s why you drink Tanqueray, so you can reminisce. And wish, you wasn’t living so devilish, shit. I remember I was just like you. Smoking blunts with my crew, flipping over 62’s. Cause G-E-D, wasn’t B-I-G. I got P-A-I-D, that’s why my mom’s hate me. She was forced to kick me out, no doubt. Then I figured out nicks went for 20 down South. Packed up my tools for my raw power move. Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves. For chumps tryna stop my flow. And what they don’t know will show on the autopsy. Went to see Papi, to cop me a brick. Asked for some consignment and he wasn’t tryna hear it. Smoking mad Newports cause I’m due in court, for an assault that I caught in Bridgeport, New York. Catch me if you can like the Gingerbread Man. You better have your gat in hand, Cause man. [HOOK]
I had the master plan, I’m in the caravan on my way to Maryland. With my man Two-Tecs to take over this projects. They call him Two-Tecs. He tote two tecs. And when he start to bust, he like to ask, “Who’s next?” I got my honey on the Amtrak with the crack. In the crack of her ass, two pounds of hash in the stash. I wait for her to make some quick cash. I told her she could be lieutenant, bitch got gassed. At last, I’m literally lounging black. Sitting back, counting double digit thousand stacks. Had to re-up, see what’s up with my peeps. Toyota Deal-a-Thon had it cheap on the Jeeps. See who got smoked, what rumours was spread. Last I heard I was dead with six to the head.
I’m seeing body after body and our mayor Giuliani, ain’t tryna see no black man turn to John Gotti My daughter use a potty so she’s older now. Educated street knowledge, I’mma mold her now. Trick a little dough buying young girls fringes. Dealing with the dope fiend binges, seeing syringes. In the veins, hard to explain how I maintain. The crack smoke make my brain feel so strange. Breaking days on the set, no sweat. Drunk off Moet, can’t bag yet because it’s still wet. But when that dry, bagging five at a time. I can clock about nine on the check cashing line. I had the first and the third, rehearse that’s my word. Thick in the game, D’s knew my first name. Should I quit?
Then I got the phone call, it couldn’t hit me harder. We got infiltrated, like Nino at the Carter.
Shit no, even though they had me scared. Yo, they got a eight, I got a Tec with air holes.
Heard Tec got murdered in a town I never heard of. By some bitch named Alberta over nickel-plated burners.
That’s just how the shit go in the struggle, muthafucka
And my bitch, swear to God she won’t snitch. I told her when she hit the bricks, I’ll make the hooker rich. Conspiracy, she’ll be home in three. Until then I looks out for the whole family. A true G, that’s me, blowing like a bubble. In the everyday struggle [HOOK]
September 13, 1994
Ready to Die
I can’t bare the thought of living another second. Occasionally I feel death closing in around me. I’m living everyday without regard for authority. Another narcotic to market, another day, another challenging endeavour.
I know how it feels to wake up depressed, supporting yourself & your family through illegal means. People judge me in equal light to drug abusers. I stay high on marijuana to cope with the stresses of narcotic sales, expectant women & outstanding invoices. I also drink gin to take my mind off the present situation & reminisce on happier times, longing for an alternative lifestyle. I can remember that mind frame, smoking excessive amounts of marijuana with my friends & gambling it all to win some money. I never focused on my General Education Diploma, I became educated on the streets and earned my financial independence. My mother found out & understandably, because of the weight of the situation, she asked me to vacate the residence.
I concocted a brilliant plan, travelling toward Maryland in a convoy of vehicles to avoid detection from authorities.
This pattern of death continues & New York Mayor, Rudy Giuliani is being credited with urban renewal after passing some very racist laws.
My associate Two-Tecs has joined me on this journey. His nickname is very straight forward, he consistently carries two ‘Tec’ semi automatic pistols. He is also renowned for being extremely reckless when firing his weaponry.
My daughter is getting older & I want to provide her with an educated interpretation of the environment that I grew up in.
Women transport my drugs on interstate trains like the Amtrak. I also carry two pounds of hashish in my personal stash. I generally lie to these women about how much I will actually pay them, offering an equity partnership for her loyalty. Finally I’m feeling comfortable with my income, counting tens of thousands in cash feels appropriate.
I take care of business, obtain more product & routinely check on my employees. I also purchased Around that time I discovered the Toyota Jeep’s during a sale, not an possibility of a 400% increase in profits & decided to move my entire expensive car but one that conceals drugs inside easily. operation to follow the money; I ascertain who has died & what Naturally, I stocked up on weapons, rumours are circulating. In recent providing significant growth to the times my death has been rumoured. local casket & flower industries. I met with a large scale trafficker, requesting a loan for narcotics, however he was completely uninterested in practicing this type of business model. I’m frequently smoking Newport cigarettes to substitute the marijuana I’m unable to smoke due to an assault I’m currently disputing.
I received a phone call that was detrimental to my operations. A police informant discovered amongst my employees, not dissimilar to Nino Brown’s situation in ‘New Jack City’. Moreover, My friend Two-Tecs was murdered by a woman named Alberta over the transaction of an illegal handgun, I’m not sure where.
I’m a large Negro man on the run Luckily for me, my drug mule will from the law, this should concern me but I am unafraid of being punished never inform about my operations. & certainly unafraid of death. Her silence will be greatly rewarded & If she remains vigil she will only Because sir. serve 3 years in prison for conspiracy. [CHORUS]
Furthermore, until her release I will support her family financially. A gangster in the truest form, counting large sums of money one day, my friends are dead & my mistress is in prison the next. [CHORUS]
I make a little extra money on the side supporting prostitutes & work around the drug addicts to make a profit from their binges. Being around drugs, seeing addicts inject & smoke crack cocaine often times makes me wonder how I maintain a calm demeanour, I’m probably receiving a contact high. Spending days making sales on the street is an easy task to me. Getting drunk drinking Moet & waiting for freshly cooked crack to dry before I can sell it is common practice. Once it is dry however, I will begin to package & distribute product as fast as possible to turn a quick profit. I rehearse my alibis daily, putting a slant on the first & third amendments of the constitution. I was once so invested in the drug dealing business that detectives knew who I was & were actively trying to convict me. Should I quit while I’m ahead? Gosh no!, They might have me scared but my guns are bigger & I have to continue making money.
& That’s just how life goes the under class endeavour. [CHORUS]
Suicidal thoughts. 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 with the goodie-goodies. Dressed in white, I like black Tims and black hoodies. God’ll prolly 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 fucking 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 baby mother’s eight months, her little sister’s two. Who’s to blame for both of them, “naw nigga, not you”. I swear to God I want to just 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 building up. I can’t, I can’t believe, suicide’s on my fucking mind, I wanna leave. I swear to God I feel like death is fucking calling me. But nah you wouldn’t understand. You see it’s 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 Ramo in Beatstreet. People at the funeral fronting like they miss me. My baby momma kissed me but she glad I’m gone. She knew me and her sister 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 lying. I’m sick of bitches hawkin’. Matter of fact, I’m sick of talkin’. *BANG*
September 13, 1994
Ready to Die
Opposed when most people die, I would prefer an afterlife in hell rather than heaven, I feel that most people would agree that this is well deserved considering my behaviour.
The blood will stain the bed quilt completely red. I look forward to death, I’m nothing but a useless marijuana smoker.
Even if I make it past the pearly gates, God wouldn’t provide the sort of environment I want to live in.
You could never understand the way I’m truly feeling.
The stress has been building up for It doesn’t make sense, ascending some time, it is beyond belief that to paradise with people of a different I am actually considering suicide. creed, wearing white isn’t my style, This is extremely stressful to me, I prefer black Timberland boots & I just wants to leave, to get away black hooded jumpers. from my problems any way I can.
To get into heaven one is supposed to not gamble, not have premarital sex, use drugs or hurt people. All of which I relish upon.
The allure of suicide is like the irresistible urge to shoot up crack. Except, unlike giving in to addiction, my decision is irreversible.
Should I do it on train tracks? Like All of my life I have enjoyed the character Ramo off Beatstreet? negative & antisocial behaviour, even When people show their faces at my stealing from my mother, people funeral I suspect there will be a great consider me as a bad influence. lack of sincerity. I commit multiple crimes, from Even the mother of my child won’t trafficking drugs to extorting be distressed when I’m deceased, finances. I truly believe that my she was aware of the adultery that mother wished she had aborted me her sister & I had committed. as conception. I have reached my apex, there is I don’t believe that she could nothing left to discuss, call my friend continue to love me the way she did Chic & inform him of my decision. as a child. I’m sick of my friends lying, The nurturing dependance that I’m sick of women stalking, she provided is something I always Sincerely, remember fondly. I’ve grown weary of this dialogue. I often question whether or not she would mourn at my funeral, my only hope is that she be willing to forgive me for the years of disrespect & lies. My girlfriend is eight months pregnant & her sister is two. I’m the father of both of those children & I am conflicted about what to do. My deepest desire is ending it all, I often fantasize about how I would succeed. Most likely use my magnum handgun, put it to my head...
Me & my bitch. When I met you I admit my first thoughts was to trick.
Moonlight strolls with the hoes, oh no, that’s not my steelo.
She helped me plan out my robberies on my enemies.
You look so good huh, I suck on your daddy’s dick.
I wanna bitch that like to play ceelo, and craps.
Didn’t hesitate to squeeze, to get my life out of danger.
I never felt that way in my life. It didn’t take long before I made you my wife.
Packin gats, in a Coach bag steamin dime bags. A real bitch is all I want, all I ever had.
One day, she put nine one one on the pager. Had to call back, whether it’s minor or major.
Got no rings and shit, just my main squeeze. Comin’ the crib, even had a set a keys.
With a Glock just as strong as me. Totin guns just as long as me, the bitch belongs with me.
No response, the phone just rung. Grab my vest, grab my gun, to find out the problem.
During the days you helped me bag up my nickels. In the process, I admit, I tripped a little.
Any plans with another bitch, my bitch’ll spoil it. One day, she used my toothbrush to clean the toilet.
When I pulled up, police was on the scene. Had to make the U-turn, make sure my shit was clean.
But you was my bitch, the one who’d never snitch.
Throwin my clothes out the windows, so when the wind blows. I see my Polos and Timbos.
Drove down the block, stashed the burner in the bushes.
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.
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.
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 niggas felt they had to kill the closest one to me. And when I find em your life is to and end. They killed my best friend... Me and my bitch.
When I met you, I’ll admit I wanted to utilize money as a tool to earn a your affection. Your so attractive, I would perform oral sex on your father if it would please you. I never had such strong feelings in my life & before long you became my primary girlfriend. My ideal wife doesn’t live with me full time; she has a set of keys to my abode & come when she pleases. Throughout the day, you help me bagging up marijuana to sell. I’ll admit during this process I cheated on you from time to time.
September 13, 1994
Ready to Die
Bluez Brothers, Sean Combs & Chucky Thompson.
You won’t catch me stargazing with my woman, that’s not my style. I want a girl to play ghetto dice & craps with our spare time together. Stashing guns in brand name luxury bags & smoking marijuana, is all I’ve ever wanted in a woman. With guns just as powerful as mine & as much experience with firearms as me, she belongs with me. If I ever have any plans with another girl, plutonic or otherwise, she will always ruin them. Once she even used my toothbrush to clean the bathroom.
She even threw my clothes out of But you were my love, the one who my apartment window. Seeing my would never deceive me. Polo shirts & Timberlands flying in You loved me when I was bankrupt the wind was quite distressing. & continue today now that I’m She always goes to great lengths financially independent. to make sure I don’t fall victim to I will admit, if you catch me at the temptation. Including hiding my car wrong time, I’m intoxicated & you keys to stop me from associating get out of line, I will not hesitate to with any other women. go upside your head. If I did manage to deceive her, she wouldn’t take my disrespect lightly, always willing to fight me. We share everything, we sleep together & even cry together, I don’t think I could live without her.
She helps me plan & execute heists & isn’t scared to murder anybody who puts my life in danger. One day she paged me with an emergency & I returned the call to assess the situation. With no answer, I prepared for the worst, grabbing my bulletproof vest & my weapon before leaving. When I arrived there were police on the scene, I had to turn around in order to get rid of the illegal drugs & weapons I was carrying. I hid my gun in the park & returned. I approached & the police tried to hold me back. I forced my way through them & saw her, a victim of gun violence. Shedding tears, I saw her lifeless body with a gunshot to both our hearts. I know my enemies couldn’t locate me, so instead they killed her. I promises vengeance to whoever killed the one woman that I loved.
Me & beloved.
Kick in the door. Biggie!
This goes out to you... This goes out to you... And you, and you and you... This goes out to you... This goes out to you... And you, and you and you...
Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns. As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons.
On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet. Look how dark it get when you’re marked for death.
This goes out for those that choose to use, disrespectful views on the King of N-Y.
Get in that ass, quick fast, like Ramadan. It’s that rap phenomenon Don Dada. Fuck Poppa.
Should I start your breath or should I let you die. In fear you start to cry, ask why.
Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye. Now ya brailling it, snatch that light shit, I’m scaling it.
You got to call me Francis M.H. White. Intake light tokes, tote iron Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin’.
Lyrically I’m worshiped, don’t front, the word sick. You cursed it, but rehearsed it.
Conscious of ya nonsense, in eighty-eight. Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson.
Keep extra clips for extra shit. Who’s next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap. The most shady, Frankie baby. Ain’t no telling where I may be. May see me in D.C. at Howard Home coming. With my man Capone, gumming, fucking something. You should know my steelo. Went from ten G’s for blow to thirty G’s a show. To orgies with hoes I never seen before. So, Jesus, get off the Notorious. Penis before I squeeze and bust. If there’s beef between us, we can settle it. With the chrome and metal shit. I make it hot like a kettle get. You’re delicate, you better get - who sent ya? You still pedal shit, I got more rides than “Great Adventure” [HOOK] Kick in the door, waving the four-four. All you heard was Poppa don’t hit me no more. [x4]
I drop unexpectedly like bird shit. You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money. Don’t forget the publishing, I punish em. I’m done with them. Son, I’m surprised you run with them. I think they got cum in them. Cause they nothing but dicks. Trying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks. Mad I smoke hydro, rock diamonds that’s sick. Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique. Take trips to Cairo, laying with your bitch. I know you praying you was rich, fucking prick. When I see ya I’mma [HOOK]
Tote steel like Bronson. “Vigilante”. You wanna get on son, you need to ask me. Ain’t no other kings in this rap thing. They siblings. Nothing but my children. One shot they disappearin’. It’s ill when MC’s used to be on cruddy shit. Took home, “Ready to Die,” listened, studied shit. Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue. They light weight, fragilly, my nine milli. Make the whites shake, that’s why my money never funny And you still recouping, stupid. stupid. stupid.
March 25, 1997
Life After Death (Disk 2)
Master Christopher! This is a dedication to you... This is a dedication to you... And you, and you ... This is a dedication to you... This is a dedication to you... And you, and you ...
Your reign at the top of the hip-hop Prepare yourself, when I shoot my charts was short lived. I overweigh weapon you will surely get shot. I all alpha males, jocks & bachelors. would imagine that it’s all getting quite dark for you right now. I will assault the aforementioned
For rappers so inclined to use disrespectful views of me publicly, you would find greater success throwing bleach in your eye.
lesser rappers without hesitation, A phenomenon to the rap scene, you can call me the father, don’t call me Poppa, that’s for friends.
Since you’ll be blind from the bleach from now on, I might as well steal your cocaine & weigh it so as to sell it myself.
Refer to me as Francis M.H. White. I like to smoke marijuana when I carry a pistol & have been advised, in a shoot out, keep low & keep firing to intimidate your adversaries. As well as keeping additional ammunition, I’m always prepared for someone to inform against me. I am the most questionable character in hip-hop, no one can tell where I am or what I am thinking. You might see me in Washington DC at the famous Howard University homecoming concert, with my friend Capone with intentions of having sex with strange women. You should be aware of the kind of man I am. It might change your approach to dealing with me. I’m ruthless enough to make it in the drug trade, clever enough to make it in the music business & smooth enough to make it in swinger communities.
I wonder momentarily if I should resuscitate you. Your eyes full of fear you start to ask me ‘why?’ My rhymes & lyrical skill should be treated with reverence. Look upon them & discover the truth. My lyrics are never rehearsed, they’re brilliance strikes unexpectedly & you have profited stealing my style. It’s only fair that I take what you owe me.
I am aware of your pathetic attempts to sell drugs in my neighbourhood. You should know that I’ve been unloading unfathomable quantities of cocaine here since 1988 & do not appreciate your antics.
Don’t forget your upper management & distribution, no one can escape my wrath.
I’ve sold so much cocaine powder, it would be comparable to sales of Johnson & Johnson baby powder.
I’m surprised you associate with such nonprofessionals.
I only carry guns around with me to right wrongs, like famed crime figure Charles Bronson.
My first album ‘Ready to Die’ was a giant success, but with my second album my desires are to attain a much greater level of fame. I have an extensive & impressive list of things to be jealous of, I’m creatively in control of my musical endeavours & the people involved. I’ll take expensive trips to remote locations to show your girlfriend how I’m living. I know you wish you could emulate me. But you cant.
So please stop trying to please me before I assault you with my pistol.
When I see you, I intend to...
If there’s a problem we will deal with much the same way as I deal with most problems, extreme violence.
I’ll ensure the situation gets quite tense, my guns become warm after extensive use. Report to your superiors, you’re too delicate to handle me alone. You ride bicycles and make minor sales whilst I own more automobiles than an amusement park. [CHORUS]
Forcibly enter your domicile entry, with a .44 calibre hand gun. All that is heard are victims of home invasion pleading for mercy [x4]
If you want to sell cocaine around here, you need my permission. I am the progenitor of the style of rap that is so commonly seen throughout the industry now. It’s an impressive compliment when I notice a rappers take home my album ‘Ready to Die’, listen to it, study it & re-posture themselves & their music without giving me credit. Now they are appropriating my persona & becoming an overnight success. They are lightweight, fragile musicians, my nine millimetre handgun will make the whites of their eyes tremble with fear. Even so, you aren’t making the kind of money I am, still waiting to cover your recoupment costs before you turn a profit.
Imbecile. Imbecile. Imbecile.
What’s Beef? The Commission: Uncle Paulie, P. Diddy, Caesar Leo DeGenero, Charli Baltimore, Iceberg Slim, The most shady, Frank Baby
Ha ha ha ha ha, check out this bizarre, Rapper style used by me, the B.I.G I put my key - you put your key in, money we’ll be seein’. Will reach the fuckin’ ceiling, check-check it My Calico been cocked, this rap Alfred Hitchcock, Drop-top-notch, playa-hating gon’ stop This instant, rappers too persistent, Quick to spit Biggie name on shit, Make my name taste, Like ass when you speak it, see me in the street Your jewellery? You can keep it, that be our little secret, See me, B that is, I that is, G whiz, Motherfuckers still in my biz. Don’t they know my nigga Gutter fuckin’ kidnap kids. Fuck ‘em in the ass, throw ‘em over the bridge. That’s how it is, my shit is laid out, Fuck that “beef” shit, that shit is played out, Y’all got the gall, all I make is one phone call, All y’all disappear by tomorrow, All your guns is borrowed, I don’t feel sorrow.
I done smoked with the best of em, Shot at the rest of em. Was about a hundred or more... maybe less of em. Got my rocks off, that nigga from the Brook just be Wiling on you, just be styling on you When I, tried to warn you but your eyes fucked up
Pardon my French but, uh, sometimes I get kind of
Here lies your demise, close your eyes.
Peeved at these weak MC’s with the, Supreme ballerlike, lyrics I call em like I see em, G
Think good thoughts, die while your skin start to glisten, Pale blue hands get cold: your soul’s risen
Y’all niggas sound like me Y’all was grimy in the early 90s, far behind me, It ain’t hard to find me, number one with the “booyaka” Give me the Remy and the chronic, ain’t no telling what I do to ya, It’s obvious the game’s new to ya Take them ends you make and spend em on a tutor hah, one shot, I’m through with ya [HOOK]
Beef is when you need 2 Gats to go to sleep
Beef is when you make your enemies start your Jeep
Beef is when your mom’s ain’t safe up in the streets
Beef is when you roll no less than 30 deep
One more time...
Man, listen, straight torture, Look what that slick shit bought ya
Now I cleared them shits with hits you on the fucking bench
Beef is when I see you Guaranteed to be in ICU,
All I got is heat and tough talk for you, Tie you up, cut your balls off just to use.
A first class ticket to Lucifer, real name Christopher, Watch me set it off like Vivica
Actually, your man passed the Gat to me, now check this
There’ll be nothin’ but smooth sailing, When I spit shots, now your crew’s bailing
Beef is when I see you Guaranteed to be in I C U
It’s bad cause I just begun. What make the shit real bad I was havin’ fun [HOOK]
March 25, 1997
Life After Death (Disk 1)
Carlos Broady, Nashiem Myrick & Paragon
My criminal organisation: Lance Riviera, James Lloyd, Tiffany Lane, Shawn Carter & most importantly myself, Christopher Wallace.
Listen to my uniquely strange style, Artists like ‘Biz Markie’ plagiarise me so I do it right back. Much like a bank vault we will both have equal stake in our operations. Our profits will grow substantially. My ‘Calico’ machine gun has been and always will be locked and loaded, I am comparable to the great storyteller ‘Alfred Hitchcock’ in talent and stature. Other rappers are often too persistent to disparage my name, I have so much power of you and your crew I will leave you humiliated without needing to assault you like everyone else. The notorious B.I.G. Still, people persist on intruding in my business. I believe they are unaware of my criminal contacts and their familiarity with death. I don’t carouse this so called ‘animosity’ it is extremely passé. If you sum up the confidence to confront me I will dispose of you with only one conversation. I can eliminate your entire crew in a 24 hour period. You share ownership of firearms because you lack integrity, in fact, your own friends accompanied and supported me in your murder.
I befriend the realist criminals and confront the impersonators. I have had undergone conflict with an large number of people throughout my neighbourhood.
I operate like the ‘Isley Brothers’ tune ‘Smooth Sailing’ while attacking your integrity, your entourage will be left with the decision to leave you behind or sink with the ship.
Firearms get me as excited as intercourse, I’m well known in Brooklyn for being involved in outrageous violence and finances.
I have nothing but hostility and confrontation for you, I will suffocate every aspect of your life and take away your manhood.
I attempted to warn with my track ‘warning’ but you were too intoxicated to realise, perhaps seeing my criminal activity and hit music success will open your eyes but for now you stay sidelined.
Understand that messing with me on any level is torturous.
Excuse me for my offensive language, it frustrates me to see inadequate rappers changing their subject matter and style after hearing my hit records. Most of my competition focused on staying true to their squalid lifestyles, far behind my concepts. Its common knowledge that I am the most influentially popular rap artist, constantly moving upward. When I indulge in ‘Remy Martin cognac’ and strong marijuana my actions become unpredictable. Its obvious that you are naïve about this industry, I advice that you take what little money your earning and put it toward re educating yourself. [CHORUS]
What constitutes conflict? Conflict is when you require a minimum of two firearms to rest your thoughts. Conflict is when your Mother is unsafe both inside & outside your family home. Conflict is when I find where your hiding, guaranteed to end in conflict & severe hospitalization. I reiterate...
What constitutes conflict? Conflict is when you are fearful to start your personal automobile. Conflict is when you have no less than two dozen companions keeping you safe. Conflict is when I find where your hiding, guaranteed to end in conflict & severe hospitalization
Your actions have merely resulted in you understanding the comparison of myself and the devil. I will instigate your demise like ‘Vivica A. Fox’ in the movie ‘Set it off ’ I am the dissolution of your success, accept your fate and maintain a calm metal state as your body becomes lifeless and your soul rises. Alarming when you consider this is only the beginning of my vengeance. Terrifying to consider that this is all very amusing to me. [CHORUS]
Niggas Bleed. “Today’s agenda, got the suitcase up in the Sentra. Go to room 112, tell them Blanco sent ya. Feel the strangest, if no money exchanges, I got these kids in Ranges, to leave them niggas brainless. All they tote is stainless, you just remain as. Calm as possible, make the deal go through. If not, here’s 12 shots, we know how you do. Please make your killings clean. Slugs up in between.
Since it’s on, I call my nigga Arizona Ron. From Tuscon, push the black Yukon. Usually had the slow grooves on, mostly rock the Isley. Stupid as a young one, chose not the moves wisely. Sharper with game, him and his crooks caught a Jooks. Heard it was sweet, about three-fifty a piece. Ron bought a truck, two bricks laid in the cut. His peeps got bucked, got locked the fuck up.
That’s when Ron vanished, came They eyes, like True Lies, kill them back, speaking Spanish. Lavish habits, and flee the scene. Just bring back the two rings, twenty carats. coke or the cream. Here’s a criminal, nigga made Or else, your life is on the shelf, we mean this, Frank. Them cats we fucking with put bombs in your mom’s gas tank”. “Let’s get this money baby, they shady, we get shady. Dress up like ladies and burn them with dirty three-eighties. Then they come to kill our babies, that’s all out. I got gats that blow the wall out, clear them all out. Fuck the fallout. Word to Stretch I bet they pussy. The seven digits push me, fucking real. Here’s the deal. I got a hundred bricks, fourteen-five a piece. Enough to cop six; buy the house on the beach. Supply the peeps with Jeeps, brick a piece, capiche? Everybody getting cream no one considered a leech.
America’s Most. Killed his baby mother brother, slit his throat. The nigga got bagged with the toast. Weeded, took it to trial, beat it. Now he feel he undefeated, he mean it. Nothing to lose, tattooed around his gun wounds. Everything to gain, embedded in his brain. And me I feel the same for this money you dying. ‘Specially if my daughter crying, I ain’t lying. Y’all know the science. [HOOK]
We agreed to go in shooting is silly. Because niggas could be hiding in showers with mac-millis. So I freaked them, the telly manager was Puerto Rican. Gloria, from Astoria, I went to war with her...
Strike the match, just what I expected. The dread kid ejected in seconds. And here come two, opposite sexes, one black, one Malaysian. We in the hallway waiting patient.
As soon as she hit the door we start Peeps in ninety-one, stole a gun from blasting. I saw her brains hit the floor, my workers. And they took drugs, they Ron laughing. tried to jerk us. I swear to God. We blazed they place – long story. Glo’ seen’ my face. Got shook, thought a nigga was coming for the safe. Now she breaking. “Shut up, 112, what’s shaking?” “A Jamaican, some bitches I swear, they look gay and a black Range Rover, been outside all day If it’s trouble let me know, I’ll be on my way.
I hit Maxi Priest at least twelve times in the chest. Spinned around, shot the chink in the breast She crying, head shots put her to rest. Pop open the briefcases, nothing but Franklin faces. The spot’s hot, sprinklers, alarm systems. That’s when other guests start to slip in.
Please, I got kids to feed, I done seen you make niggas bleed nightmare, this bitch don’t need”
It’s time for us to get to dipping. I know them niggas in the Range is on they way up. Flipping, pistol gripping, I load the clip in.
“Ron, get the gasoline, this spot, we about to blow this. Get the cash before the cops and Range Rover cats notice”
The hallway, got real loud and crowded. They walked right past us, I don’t know how they allowed it
Room 112, right by the staircase, perfect place. When they evacuate, they meet they fate.
The funny thing about it, through all the excitement.
“Ron pass the gasoline,” – the nigga passed me kerosene. Fuck it, it’s flame-able. My hunger is unexplainable.
They Range got towed, they double parked by a hydrant Stupid motherfuckers
Think about it now, that’s damn near one-point-five... “I kill them all I’ll be set for life” “Frank pay attention, These motherfuckers is henchmen, renegades. If you die they still get paid, extra probably. Fuck a robbery, I’m the boss, promise you won’t rob ‘em,” “I promise” But of course you know I had my fingers crossed. [HOOK]
[HOOK] (Niggas bleed just like us) Picture me being scared, of a nigga that breathe the same air as me.
(Niggas bleed just like us) Picture a nigga hiding. My life in that man’s hands, while he just deciding.
(Niggas bleed just like us) Picture me being shook. We can both pull burners, make the motherfucking beef cook
(Niggas bleed just like us) I’d rather go toe-to-toe with all of y’all. Running ain’t in my protocol.
March 25, 1997
Life After Death (Disk 1)
Nashiem Myrick, Carlos Broady & Stevie J
“Today’s agenda, we have a suitcase inside the Nissan Sentra. The transaction will be made in room 112, inform them of your association with Blanco.
“Frank, you need to be aware, these guys are muscle on retainer — it’s their job to kill you if the situation sours, they will most likely benefit further from your death.
If the transaction becomes inappropriate, there is support outside in Range Rover SUV’s waiting for the word to attack.
Robbing them would be ignorant, please promise to avoid it?” “I promise”. But you know that’s a fabrication
The men outside don’t mess about, try to remain as even-tempered. [CHORUS] I’d prefer the transaction to go Despite the best advice, I’m going smoothly, but here’s is a handgun, ahead with the robbery & request we’re aware of your reputation. assistance from my friend Arizona Please be professional if the situation turns sour, ensure accuracy Ron, from Tuscon who drives a black GMC Yukon SUV. & minimise difficulty by shooting them in the cranium. As long as you return with money or drugs there will be no unpleasantness. We’re not messing about Frank, these characters will plant explosives on your mother’s automobile, serious criminals.” “I’m feverish for the transaction, if the other party turns out to be questionable, my actions will be equally questionable. I’m willing to dress as a women & attack them with an unregistered .380 handgun. If they wish to escalate to the situation, no life will be considered sacred. I am in possession of machine guns that will make light work of they’re entire team. I’m unafraid of fallout, considering the possibility that the people I’m about to deal with are imbeciles. My late friend Stretch can testify; As the stakes grow, so does my ambition. Let me break down the transaction for you. I have 100 kilograms of cocaine worth $14,500 each. I will save enough to buy a Mercedes 600 series & a house on the beach. I’ll give one kilo to each of my men, they can earn enough money to each purchase a jeep. Everyone in my team will benefit financially, I trust them all. Let’s do the math. 100 Kilograms at $14,500 each equals a sum of almost $1.5 million. If I murdered them & kept the money I would be financially free for life.”
Arizona Ron loves R&B, especially the Isley Brothers. Ron was an ignorant criminal as a child & has since learned from his mistakes.
Ron & I agree that we shouldn’t enter room 112 with violent excitement since weren’t aware of the situation inside. I intimidated the hotel manager, Gloria. This was easy because we have some history together. — Back in 1991 I went to war with some friends of hers, long story.
The plan worked perfectly. Three people move hastily out of room 112 — a young Jamaican, followed by the couple, one of which is Malaysian. Ron & I waited for the last woman to leave the room before opening fire. Ron begins laughing psychotically as he shoots women.
Gloria got scared when she saw me, I shot the Jamaican at least a dozen she thought I was there to rob the times in the chest as well as hitting hotel & she broke down crying. the Malaysian woman in the breast. I told her to calm down – I just want A final shot to the head ends her to know the going on in room 112. pain. The briefcases they carry are Fortunately for me, Gloria is savvy filled with $100 bills. to the criminal element. She knows The room is getting extremely hot, that a Jamaican man & some women both literally because of our fire, are in room 112, also that there is & hot with gunplay, & shortly, with a black Range Rover outside that police presence. seems somehow connected. It’s high time that Ron & I made Gloria wants to leave, she knows my reputation for violence & she doesn’t want to get hurt since she has dependant children.
our escape. I reload my gun, those dangerous men in the Range Rover will be arriving shortly & I want to remain prepared.
He bought a truck to transport & conceal two kilograms of cocaine, but his couriers where apprehended & locked in jail.
Our plan: Set the hotel on fire. When the people in room 112 evacuate, Ron & I will attack them. The commotion caused by the fire will create the perfect distraction for our escape.
In all the commotion following the fire, the hallway is jammed & the Range Rover thugs walked straight passed me.
Following these events, Ron disappeared to avoid arrest. When he returned he was wealthy & fluent in the Spanish language.
The room is on the first floor at the end of a hallway. This is good, we wont have to worry about innocent bystanders getting in our way.
Ron is a lifetime criminal & once labelled as one of America’s Most Wanted criminals.
Ron passed me kerosine instead of the gasoline, I ignore this & continue, my desire for this money is inexplicably strong.
Recently Ron & his colleagues did a robbery that earned them each $350,000 each! With his share of the robbery, Ron decided to become involved in the narcotic industry.
He even killed his child’s maternal uncle. — A Legitimate maniac.
Even more humouring, throughout all the pandemonium, they’re Range Rover was towed away for being double parked next to a hydrant!
Ron got caught with the murder weapon while high, but still managed to be acquitted. Because of this he feels invincible. With “Nothing to loose” tattooed around the bullet wounds on his body, Ron will do anything to get one up on somebody. I generally feel the same as Ron, I will kill you for money. I’m not being deceitful, I have a child to feed, you understand. [CHORUS]
(Your flesh & blood just like me) Imagine me fearing a man walking the same earth as me.
(Your flesh & blood just like me) I don’t relish having my life in the hands of another man, scheming for an opportunity to kill me.
(Your flesh & blood just like me) The mere image of me being (Your flesh & blood just like me) scared is ridiculous. We can I prefer to settle disputes man to produce guns & settle this dispute man, cowardice isn’t in my nature. once & for all
I got a story to tell. Who y’all talkin to man? Check it out, check it out. This here goes out to all the niggas that be fuckin’ mad bitches. In other niggas cribs. Thinkin’ shit is sweet. Nigga creep up on your ass, hahaha. Live niggas respect it, check it.
I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya. Even left all my motherfuckin hoes for ya. Niggas think Frankie pussy whipped, nigga picture that. With a Kodak, Insta-ma-tak. We don’t get down like that. Lay my game down quite flat. Sweetness, where you parked at? Petiteness but that ass fat. She got a body make a nigga wanna eat that. I’m fuckin with you. The bitch official doe, dick harder than a missile yo. Try to hit if she trippin dissapearin like Arsenio Yo, the bitch push a double-oh. With the five in front, probably a connivin stunt. Y’all drive in front, I’m a peel with her. Find the deal with her, she fuck around and steal, huh? Then we all get laced. Television’s, Versace heaven, when I’m up in em. The shit she kicked, all the shit’s legit. She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks. Nigga tricked ridiculous, the shit was plush. She’s stressin me to fuck, like she was in a rush.
We fucked in his bed, quite dangerous. I’m in his ass while he playin gainst the Utah Jazz. My 112, CD blast, I was past.
It came to me like a song I wrote. Told the bitch gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope.
She came twice I came last. Roll the grass.
Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face. Roped the bitch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase.
She giggle, sayin “I’m smokin on home-grown” Then I heard her moan, “honey I’m home!”
Play the cut, nigga comin off some love potion shit. Flash the heat on em, he stood emotionless.
Yep, tote chrome for situations like this. I’m up in his broad I know he won’t like this. Now I’m like bitch you better talk to him. Before this fifth put a spark to him. Fuck around shit get dark to him, put a part through him. Lose a major part to him, arm, leg She beggin me to stop but this cat gettin closer. Gettin hot like a toaster, I cocks the toast, uhh. Before my eyes could blink. She screams out, “Honey bring me up somethin to drink!” He go back downstairs more time to think. Her brain racin, she’s tellin me to stay patient. She don’t know I’m... Cool as a fan. Gat in hand, I don’t wanna blast her man. But I can and I will though, I probably chill though. Even though situation lookin kinda ill yo.
Dropped the glass screamin, “Don’t blast here’s the stash. A hundred cash just don’t shoot my ass, please!” Nigga pullin mad G’s out the floor. Put stacks in a Prada knapsack, hit the door Grab the keys to the five, call my niggas on the cell. Bring some weed, I got a story to tell, uhh
March 25, 1997
Life After Death (Disk 2)
Buckwild, Sean Combs & Chucky Thompson.
Who are you talking to sir? Listen Up, Listen Up. This song is dedicated to anybody having sexual intercourse with attractive females. Thinking the situation is controlled, until her significant other catches you in the act, hilarious. Enjoyable people respect the act, Listen Up.
I rap rhymes for you, rob peoples homes for you, even left all my mistresses for you. Frank White is his own man, you wont find pictures of him serving any women. I admire your petiteness & your large derrière. You make me want perform cunnilingus. If that was my type of thing. She is gorgeous & want to have intercourse, but if she begins to resist, I’m just going to leave her like Arsenio Hall.
We slept in his bed, an exciting and quite dangerous decision. I’m having intercourse with his girl while he’s playing against the Utah Jazz. My 112 CD is playing at full volume & I was ready. She achieved orgasm twice before I finished & smoked some marijuana. Mocking my home cultivated marijuana, she gasped suddenly, her husband was home. I carry a gun for this exact situation. In bed with the man’s woman, I know he is not going to be thrilled to say the least.
The solution came to me as easily as one of my rhymes, I told the girl give me your scarf, pillow case as well as some rope. I got dressed quick smart, tied the scarf around my face & created the scene. Tied her to a chair & muffled her mouth with the pillow case. Preparing for a romantic evening with his cheating girlfriend, I pointed the gun at him as he entered the room, the man was frozen in shock.
He drops the glass he had just fetched pleading for his life. She drives a 500 series Mercedes He cries out that he will pay me Benz, attained through promiscuity. I told her she better say something, whatever I desire. You go ahead, I’m going to stay with before my gun puts a bullet in him Producing a particularly large her & find out what makes her tick. or he becomes likely to loose a limb. sum of money from his floor safe, I discovered she likes to mess about She pleaded me to stop but he I shoved it in her Prada knapsack & commit major theft. was getting closer. Immediately she & got out of there. My friends & I will benefit thinks of a distraction & asked for a Absconded with his Mercedes 500 & from these crimes. drink. He headed back downstairs called all of my friends immediately... which gave me more time to think. Adulterated with the finer things “Bring some marijuana, I have an like televisions, clothes by Versace & She is desperately trying to think, whatever else this girl will steal for me. telling me to be patient. She doesn’t anecdote to narrate. know that I’m completely relaxed. Wow. Her boyfriend plays for the New York Knicks Basketball team. She has With a firearm in my hand I don’t him wrapped around her fingers, want to commit murderous adultery. buying her expensive gifts. But I will if necessary & this situation She was in a rush, because her man is beginning to become adverse. may be coming home soon.
Miss U. 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 niggas Word up
I remember sellin three bricks of straight flour. Got my man a beat down to the third power.
We work all week, weekends we play the movies. We rock flatops, our girls rocked doobies.
There was this girl around the way that made cats drool. Her name’s Drew, played fools out they money in pool.
He didn’t care, spent the money in a half hour. Got some fishscale, rained on competition like a shower.
Made a killin’, even though the D’s knew me. Eventually, you know they try to do me, fuck it.
People swore we was fuckin but we was just cool. She used to hang while I slang my drugs after school.
Got the coke cooked up, a crackhead Kevin. In eighty-eight, when Kane ruled, with Half Steppin.
Fed up, my nigga wanted to take it down South. Sick of cops comin, sick of throwin jacks in his mouth.
She’d watch my bomb, help my moms with the groceries. My little sister, the girl was kinda close to me.
A thirty-eight, a lot of mouth, was our only weapon.
Gave him half my paper, told ‘em go that route. Few months, he got his brain blown out.
A little closer than the average girl’s supposed to be. Far from a lover, my girl was jealous of her.
We was king till the D’s crept in. And now I’m missin em –
Now I’m stressed His baby’s mother, she trippin, blamin me, and his older brothers, understand, the game it be.
Then she started messin’ with some major players. Handled keys, niggas called them the Bricklayers.
A dread kid, had a baby fore that Kinda topsy turvy; you win some, you bitch Taya. Found out her baby’s lose some. Damn, they lost a brother - father cheatin, now Drew she gotta slay her. they mother lost a son. Fuck, why my nigga couldn’t stay in NY? I’m a thug, but I swear for three days I cried.
One night, across from the corner store. Taya ran around the block with a chrome four-four.
I’d, look in the sky and ask God why. Can’t look his baby girls in the eye.
Squeezed all six shots in the passenger door. The dude lived, what my baby had to die for.
Damn I’m missin’ him –
Missin’ her. –
March 25, 1997
Life After Death (Disk 2)
Yes, I’m dedicating this song to my friend ‘O’. We miss you immensely. This is going out to all the people that have died struggling to support themselves & their families on the street. Life is harsh in the streets. I’m smoking marijuana in remembrance of you all. I concur.
I can remember selling three kilograms of flour, cheating someone for a lot of money. My friend was assaulted as a result of these actions. He wasn’t upset about this & spent his money quick smart on some high grade cocaine. This made it hard for the other local dealers to sell their product.
We would hustle all week leaving weekends open for recreation with girls & simple things.
There was a girl who lived not far from where I grew up, her name was Drew & she was very attractive.
We made a lot of money, despite the undercover detectives being aware of our operation. Eventually they tried to arrest us & send us to prison.
People speculated that Drew & I were in a sexual relationship, but we kept it plutonic. She used to keep me company while I sold drugs after school.
My friend, O was stressed out & fed She would help with my business up with the drug dealing situation & help my mother around the house We took that cocaine & cooked it in New York, as cops would always wherever she could. She was akin to into crack cocaine in 1988. When catch him. He wants to take his a little sister to me. rapper Big Daddy Kane ruled the business south & avoid the risks. Drew was the only girl emotionally hip-hop game with his classic track I gave him half of my money & close to me. So my girlfriends were “Ain’t no Half Steppin’”. encouraged him to leave, for his own always jealous, because they could A .38 special & a lot of boasting was good. Unfortunately, O was killed in never take her place. the only weapon we could utilize. the South after a few months. Drew got involved with some We were fine until the detectives Now O’s girlfriend blames me for major drug dealers, & became a came & arrested him, the mess because I supported him. mule for them. She would transport Now I’m missing him. His older brothers, however, kilograms of cocaine at a time, a understood the risk of the drug position known as a brick layer. – dealing game. Around this time, Drew, was in a I ask myself why he couldn’t have stayed with me in New York. I’ve been mourning for the last three days with thuggish demeanour. Life sometimes turns upside down & I often times feel responsible for the passing of O.
romantic relationship with a guy, who happened to father a child with another girl. The girl’s name was Taya. Taya became jealous of her spouses new relationship & vowed to kill her. One night, near the local store, Taya ran down the street, producing a firearm. She fired off all six shots into the passenger door. The man lived but my best friend Drew passed. & I’m missing her.
Ten Crack Commandments. It’s the ten crack commandments, what? Nigga can’t tell me nothing about this coke. Can’t tell me nothing about this crack, this weed, my hustlin’ niggas. Niggas on the corner I ain’t forget you niggas, my triple beam niggas...
I’ve been in this game for years, it made me an animal. It’s rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual.
Number 5: never sell no crack where you rest at. I don’t care if they want a ounce, tell ‘em “bounce!”
Follow these rules you’ll have mad bread to break up. If not, 24 years on the wake up.
A step-by-step booklet, for you to get. Your game on track, not your wig pushed back.
Number 6: that goddamn credit? Dead it. You think a crackhead paying you back, shit forget it!
Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up. Caretaker did your makeup.
Rule Number Uno: never let no one know. How much dough you hold, cause you know.
7: this rule is so underrated. Keep your family and business completely separated.
The cheddar breed jealousy ‘specially if that man fucked up, get yo’ ass stuck up.
Money and blood don’t mix like 2 dicks and no bitch, find yourself in serious shit.
Number 2: never let ‘em know your next move.
Number 8: never keep no weight on you. Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jums too.
Don’t you know Bad Boys move in silence and violence? Take it from your highness. I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for their bricks and chips. Number 3: never trust nobody. Your moms’ll set that ass up, properly gassed up.
Number 9: shoulda been Number 1 to me: If you ain’t gettin’ bagged stay the fuck from police. If niggas think you snitchin’ they ain’t trying to listen. They be sittin’ in your kitchen, waiting to start hittin’.
Hoodied and masked up, shit, for that fast buck. She be laying in the bushes to light that ass up.
Number 10: a strong word called “consignment”. Strictly for live men, not for freshmen.
Number 4: I know you heard this before...
If you ain’t got the clientele, say “hell no!”.
“Never get high on your own supply”
Cause they gon’ want they money rain, sleet, hail, snow.
When you passed. Your girl fucked 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 pies to bake up. Word up.
March 25, 1997
Life After Death (Disk 2)
It’s the ten crack commandments, pardon? You can’t tell me how to sell drugs, I know everything there is to know about drug dealing. Although I have made it on a large scale, I wont forget about my friends still selling narcotics on the streets the way I once did. Even now that I am a mainstream success I wont sell out. Keep using that triple beam balance & ensure you accurately measure quantities of chemicals & street drugs. I have been involved in the sale of narcotics for years, growing up in the streets of bed stuy Brooklyn you learn fast & this has made me quite animalistic in nature. I wrote this song as a metaphorical manual for rules in which a drug dealer should live his life. If you follow the rules I set out through this song, you should be able to keep your drug dealing organised & profitable, rather than being killed by rival drug dealers.
Rule number one: You should never let people know how much money you posses. People, especially those addicted to crack cocaine will become jealous of your assess & try to harm you because of this. Number two: Never let anyone know your aspirations of expanding you drug empire. Are you not aware that most criminals live their lives trying to balance acts of violence & not getting caught or talking to the police. Take it from the king of the New York rap scene, I have shot people for their large quantities of cocaine & money. Number three: Never trust or involve anybody when it comes to your drug empire. Even your mother, with the proper motivation will put on a mask & wait outside in the bushes to shoot you. Number four: I assume you’ve heard this on many occasions. Advice famously ignored by gangster icon Tony Montana, “Never abuse the drugs that you are meant to be selling for a profit.”
Number Five: Don’t sell any cocaine at your home residence. Regardless of the size/amount someone may request, it is essential to tell them to leave. Number six: Never take credit in the purchase & sale of a narcotic. A drug addict will likely forgot or avoid paying you back. Seven: This rule is extremely important, always maintain separation between your family & your business. Successful business & family do not combine, similar to the act of having heterosexual group relations without a female, this can result in a rather awkward situation.
If you follow these rules I have outlined you will be on a fast track to making large quantities of money. If not you might end up waking up in jail for the next 24 years or receive a bullet wound to the cranium. A caretaker at a funeral home will prepare your body for your funeral, applying makeup & touching up that problem blemish on your head. Because you didn’t follow my commandments & now that you are deceased. Your sweetheart spends time with my friend Jake, consuming large amounts of drugs & acting promiscuously. She is kept around for this reason, as well as her culinary abilities with steak.
I have to leave now. Number eight. Don’t hold a large I have crack cocaine to produce for quantity of cocaine on your person. sale & purchase. This is a task better left to your employees to bear the burden of I concur. liability if you get caught.
Number nine: in hindsight this rule should have been number one, especially in when reflecting on my own history. If your not being arrested stay far away from the police. If people witness you near the police they will assume you are an informant & make an attempt on your life. Number ten: some really sound business advice, a high recommendation toward conservative leverage. If you don’t have the money, don’t purchase the product. Purchasing a product on credit & not being able to sell it fast enough can result in violence when people come to collect their payment.
and if ya donâ€™t know, now ya know, nigga.
Issue One. Ebonics > English. Christopher George Latore Wallace. The Notorious BIG. Biggie Smalls. Ready to Die. Life After Death. Party & Bullshit. Machine Gun Funk. One More Chance. Juicy. Everyday Struggles. Me & My Bitch. Suicidal Thoughts. Hypnotize. Kick In The Door. What's Beef. Niggas Bleed. I Got A Story To Tell. Miss U. Ten Crack Commandments.
Issue 1 ; Ebonics > English