BIG


	THUGLIFE \| home 2pac \| BIG BIG Hypnotize Uhhh, uhhh, uh, c'mon Verse One: Hah, sicka than your average Poppa Twist cabbage off instinct niggaz don't think shit stink pink gators, my Detroit players Timbs for my hooligans in Brooklyn Dead right, if they head right, Biggie there Air Nike Poppa been smooth since days of Underroos Never lose, never choose to, bruise crews who do something to us, talk go through us Girls walk to us, wanna do us, screw us Who us? Yeah, Poppa and Puff (ehehehe) Close like Starsky and Hutch, stick the clutch Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M-3 (Take that, take that, take that, haha!) Bang every MC easily, busily Recently niggaz frontin ain't sayin nuttin (nope) So I just speak my piece, (c'mon) keep my piece Cubans with the Jesus piece (thank you God), with my peeps Packin, askin who want it, you got it nigga flaunt it That Brooklyn bullshit, we on it Chorus: sung in imitation of part of Slick Rick's "La-Di-Da-Di" Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (hah) Verse Two: I put hoes in NY onto DKNY (uh-huh) Miami, D.C. prefer Versace (that's right) All Philly hoes, dough and Moschino (c'mon) Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi (haaaaah!) Now who's the real dookie, meanin who's really the shit Them niggaz ride dicks, Frank White push the sticks on the Lexus, LX, four and a half Bulletproof glass tints if I want some ass Gon' blast squeeze first ask questions last That's how most of these so-called gangsters pass At last, a nigga rappin bout blunts and broads Tits and bras, menage-a-tois, sex in expensive cars I still leave you on the pavement Condo paid for, no car payment At my arraignment, note for the plantiff Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement (shhh) Face it, not guilty, that's how I stay filthy (not guilty) Richer than Richie, till you niggaz come and get me Chorus: Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (huh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Verse Three: I can fill ya wit real millionaire shit (I can fill ya) Escargot, my car go, one sixty, swiftly Wreck it buy a new one Your crew run run run, your crew run run I know you sick of this, name brand nigga wit flows girls say he's sweet like licorice So get with this nigga, it's easy Girlfriend here's a pen, call me round ten Come through, have sex on rugs that's Persian (that's right) Come up to your job, hit you while you workin (uhh) for certain, Poppa freakin, not speakin Leave that ass leakin, like rapper demo Tell them hoe, take they clothes off slowly Hit em wit the force like Obe, dick black like Toby (Obe... Toby) Watch me roam like Gobe, lucky they don't owe me Where the safe show me, homey.. (say what, homey) Chorus: Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie (uh-huh) can't you see (uh) Sometimes your words just hypnotize me (hip to) And I just love your flashy ways (uh-huh) Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh) Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see Sometimes your words just hypnotize me And I just love your flashy ways Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid fades Notorius Thugs Intro 1-5: Bone-Thugz-N-Harmony [Intro 1] (Just) Bone and Biggie Biggie We gonna rock the party Just Bone and Biggie Biggie (repeat 3X) Rock the party, party Yes Bone and Biggie Biggie Betta run and tell everybody Just Bone and Biggie Biggie (repeat 3X) Everybody, everybody [Intro 2] (Let's) Ride let's ride let's ride let's ride Get high, get high, get high, c'mon Let's ride let's ride let's ride let's ride Get high, get high, get high [Intro 3] Just Bone and Biggie Biggie (repeat 4X) We gonna rock the party Rock the party, party Just Bone and Biggie Biggie (repeat 4X) Betta run and tell everybody Everybody, everybody [Intro 4] No-to-rious, Thugs Nuthin but them thugsters Nuthin but them thugster thugsters No-to-rious, Thugs Nuthin but them thugsters Nuthin but them thugster thugsters Chorus: Intro 3 and Intro 4 overlapped, Intro 2 [Biggie] Armed and dangerous, ain't too many can bang with us Straight up weed no angel dust, label us Notorious Thug ass niggaz that love to bust, it's strange to us Y'all niggaz be scramblin, gamblin Up in restaraunts with mandolins, and violins We just sittin here tryin to win, tryin not to sin High off weed and lots of gin So much smoke need oxygen, steadily countin them Benjamins Nigga you should too, if you knew What this game'll do to you Been in this shit since ninety-two Look at all the bullshit I been through So-called beef with you know who Fuck a few female stars or two Then I bluelight niggaz knew like Mike's shit Not to be fucked with Motherfucker better duck quick, cause Me and my dogs love to buck shit Fuck the luck shit, strictly aim No aspirations protect the game Spit yo' game, talk yo' shit Grab yo' gat, call yo' click Squeeze yo' clip, hit the right one Pass that weed, I got to light one All them niggaz I got ta fight one All them hoes I got ta like one Our situation is a tight one Whatcha gonna do, fight or run? Seems to me that you'll take thee Bone and Big, nigga die slowly I'ma tell you like a nigga told me Cash Rule Everything Around Me Shit, lyrically, niggaz can't see me Fuck it, buy the coke Cook the coke, cut it, blow the bitch Before you call yourself lovin it Nigga you with a Benz fuckin it Doesn't it seem odd to you Big come through with moms and crews Goodfellas to to the Mo Thugs dudes Who's the killa, me or you? (We forgive you for you know not what you do) [Bizzy] Seven A.M. woke in the mornin With Henny got bean and green and nicotine No dough so pop a couple of doze Lil Ripsta, nigga Mista Clean Nigga Dean, deep in my temple and not to get sentimentally sting, wit my Instrumelody, and heated especially for your team And a forty-five indeed will beam in between the scenes destroy your dreams You willin to die, we'll see how many flees when I cause the scene We mean mug, Mo Thugs Trained to be perfect, disciples When it's survival tongue, never double-edged sword Triple, six rivals spittin fire This the real truth, bitch Breakin out for lies My Messiahs better be ready for Armageddeon six-six-five It's wild, bless the child The one that became a man Put in positions over the pay All that I had to do was stare Test me now, contender never no surrender no pretend Pick up my pen, and my hemp One of my trusted friend friend, hey Open it let's see if we're real, we al suited Beg my pardon to Martin Baby we ain't marchin we shootin And daily recruitin there's a front row Everyday in the ghetto We start em off little we give em a bottle and a pen and a pad to hit the lead now kick it [Krayzie] Nigga roll wit Bone up into the Thug spot To the dome wit a shot of bird Never get tossed to the curb Be feelin that urge to splurge But I'm broke as fuck son gimme that Mossberg swerve Up into my bag, cause I gotta get my mask and shells to put in this twelve gauge sawed off Get em all off, nigga yo' loss, take it all off Got a nigga car door But the Bone not Leatherface, too many are thinkin they Thugs They need the most help to pull it in doves And bitch if you stickin we buckin them guzzlers, fucked up Now let me get done with the grime Gotta go purchase a dime Put in a state to get done with the crime Smokin the reefer to ease my mind Swig some wine, step on the block with the rocks But Willie be servin em clemency Gotta buck him on down if he come back talkin like gimme back me money Thuggin with me killers, need us a leader or liquor but niggaz ain't got shit Wit a sawed off pump chrome thirty-eight pistol Now who ready to get bent Nigga like me feenin for them green leaves But I ain't had no dough Gotta make some money so I'm makin my dummy rocks if I go broke Chorus: Intro 3, Intro 2 [Layzie] Yeah, Little Lay hey comin in the form of scripture Finna get ya and hit ya wit magic Droppin down licks betta call on my gadgets With an automatics status we spray time to load the glocks But I'm thinkin not There's another he forced tellin me do what I gotta do So my otha potnah nigga die tonight And I'm always runnin from the boys in blue Biggie booms on my ass now provide the cellular phone The carphone, what's happenin Grab artillery niggaz start packin Cause a motherfucker try to get me in a jacket, and I did him Hit him right between the eyes, despise the wise Wanna test a nigga size, that'll cost him Nigga fuck around wit the wrong shit Y'all get mo murdered all day all day We done paved the way and I'm on the run I'ma call my boys and bring all the guns Y'all niggaz wanna have a little fun wit number one One, one, then it red red rum rum rum rum rum rum But it red red rum rum rum rum rum rum But it red red rum Chorus: Intro 3, Intro 2, Intro 3, Intro 2 Big Poppa 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 The back of the club, sippin Moet, is where you'll find me The back of the club, mackin hoes, my crew's behind me Mad question askin, blunt passin, music blastin But I just can't quit Cause one of these honies Biggie gots ta creep with Sleep with, keep the ep a secret why not Why blow up my spot cause we both got hot Now check it, I got more Mack than Craig and in the bed Believe me sweety I got enough to feed the needy No need to be greedy I got mad friends with Benz's C-notes by the layers, true fuckin players Jump in the Rover and come over tell your friends jump in the GS3, I got the chronic by the tree Chorus: [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies [I love it when you call me big pop-pa] If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby Bay-bee Verse Two: Straight up honey really I'm askin Most of these niggaz think they be mackin but they be actin Who they attractin with that line, "What's your name what's your sign" Soon as he buy that wine I just creep up from behind And ask what your interests are, who you be with Things to make you smile, what numbers to dial You gon' be here for a while, I'm gon' go call my crew You go call your crew We can rendezvous at the bar around two Plans to leave, throw the keys to Lil Cease Pull the truck up, front, and roll up the next blunt So we can steam on the way to the telly go fill my belly A t-bone steak, cheese eggs and Welch's grape Conversate for a few, cause in a few, we gon' do What we came to do, ain't that right boo [truuuueee] Forget the telly we just go to the crib and watch a movie in the jacuzzi smoke l's while you do me Chorus Verse Three: [How ya livin Biggie Smallz] In mansion and Benz's Givin ends to my friends and it feels stupendous Tremendous cream, fuck a dollar and a dream Still tote gats strapped with infrared beams Choppin o's, smokin live optimo's Money hoes and clothes all a nigga knows A foolish pleasure, whatever I had to find the buried treasure, so grams I had to measure However living better now, Gucci sweater now Drop top BM's I'm the man girlfriend [Honey check it Tell your friends, to get with my friends And we can be friends Shit we can do this every weekend Aight? Is that aight with you? Yeah... keep bangin] Chorus Things Done Changed Verse One: 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 Talk slick, you get your neck slit quick Cause real street niggaz ain't havin that shit Totin techs for rep, smokin blunts in the project hallways, shootin dice all day Wait for niggaz to step up on some fightin shit We get hype and shit and start lifin shit So step away with your fist fight ways Motherfucker this ain't back in the days, but you don't hear me though Verse Two: No more cocoa leave-io, one two three One two three, all of this to me, is a mystery I hear you motherfuckers talk about it But I stay seein bodies with the motherfuckin chalk around it And I'm down with the shit too For the stupid motherfuckers wanna try to use Kung-Fu Instead of a Mac-10 he tried scrappin Slugs in his back and, that's what the fuck happens when you sleep on the street Little motherfuckers with heat, want ta leave a nigga six feet deep And we comin to the wake To make sure the cryin and commotion ain't a motherfuckin fake Back in the days, our parents used to take care of us Look at em now, they even fuckin scared of us Callin the city for help because they can't maintain Damn, shit done changed Verse Three: If I wasn't in the rap game I'd probably have a key knee deep in the crack game Because the streets is a short stop Either you're slingin crack rock or you got a wicked jumpshot Shit, it's hard being young from the slums eatin five cent gums not knowin where your meals comin from And now the shit's gettin crazier and major Kids younger than me, they got the Sky grand Pagers Goin outta town, blowin up Six months later all the dead bodies showin up It make me wanna grab the nine and the shottie But I gotta go identify the body Damn, what happened to the summertime cookouts? Everytime I turn around a nigga gettin took out Shit, my momma got cancer in her breast Don't ask me why I'm motherfuckin stressed, things done changed