R.I.P. Biggie Smalls

You ain't got to explain shite, I've been robbin' mothafrickas since the slave ships.

With the same clip.

The same 4-5.

Two point blank, a mothafrickas sure to die.

Since it's on, I call my ninja Arizona Ron
From Tuscon, push the black Yukon
Usually had the slow grooves on
Mostly rock the Isley
Stupid as a youngin, chose not to move wisely

I'm sitting in the crib dreaming about Leer jets and coupes
The way Salt shoops and how they sell records like Snoop
Oops!
I'm interrupted by a doorbell
3:52, who the hell
Is this?
I gets up quick
Cocks my shite
Stop the dogs from barking
Then proceed to walking
Its a face that I seen before

on second thought, both the opening and closing

When I die, frick it, I wanna go to hell
Cause I'm a piece of shite, it ain't hard to fricking tell
It don't make sense, going to heaven with the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Timbs and black hoodies
God'll prolly have me on some real strict shite
No sleeping all day, no getting my dick licked
Hanging with the goodie-goodies lounging in paradise
frick that shite, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice

My baby momma kissed me but she glad I'm gone
She knew me and her sister had something going on
I reach my peak, I can't speak
Call my **** 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 talking

quote:

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Murdered 19 years ago on March 9, 1997 in LA California. His death, in my opinion, was the beginning of the end of main stream rappers speaking out. Thanks for hiring the hit man Suge Knight.

Aside the point - he was an amazing talent, with a very unique flow. Maybe rap isn't your thing (use to be mine back until mid 2000s), but I think we should all recognize the music world lost something special that day.

R.I.P.

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"...in mansions and benzes, giving ends to my friends and it feels stupendous."

but maybe not when:

"His moscino hoe, his versace hottie....he came to find out, she was focking everybody."

God I love Biggie Smalls. Greatest rapper ever.

quote:

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been in this shite since '92 look at all the bullshite I been through

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So called beef w/ you know who
F*cked a few female stars or two
then a blue light niggas knew like
Mike-shite not to be frick wit.
Motherf*cker better duck quick
'cause me and my dogs love to buck shite,
frick the luck shite strictly aim
no aspiration to quit the game.

Biggie is GOAT

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
Smoking weed on Bambu, sipping 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 (wassup)
I'm blowing up like you thought I would
Call the crib, same number same hood (that's right)
It's all good (it's all good)
And if you don't know, now you know, ****

Biggie was the double goat

Who shot ya? Separate the weak from the obsolete
Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets
It's on, ****, frick all that bickering beef
I can hear sweat trickling down your cheek
Your heartbeat sound like Sasquatch feet
Thundering, shaking the concrete
Then the shite stop when I foil the plot
Neighbors call the cops said they heard mad shots
Saw me in the drop, 3 and a quarter
Slaughter, electrical tape around your daughter
Old school new school need to learn though
I "burn, baby, burn" like "Disco Inferno"
Burn slow like blunts with yayo
Peel more skins than Idaho Potato
Niggas know: the lyrical molesting is taking place
fricking with B.I.G. it ain't safe
I make your skin chafe, rashes on them asses
Bumps and bruises, blunts and Land Cruisers
Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools
Niggas mad because I know that Cash Rules
Everything Around Me, two Glock 9s
Any motherfricker whispering about mines
And I'm Crooklyn's finest
You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind this