[Diddy] Its Bad Boy bitch Scram Jones... the Clipse... B.I.G. Let's go
[Biggie] Niggaz in my faction don't like asking questions Strictly gun testing, coke measuring Giving pleasure in the Benz-ito Hitting fanny, spendin chips at Manny's Hope you creeps got receipts, my peeps get dirty like cleats Run up in your crib, wrap you up in your Polo sheets Six up in your wig piece, nigga decease Muah!, may you rest in peace With my Sycamore style, more sicker than yours Four-four, and fifty-four draw As my pilot, steers my Leer Yes my dear shit's official, only the Feds I fear Here's a tissue, stop your blood clot crying The kids, the dog, everybody dyin, no lying So don't you get suspicious I'm Big dangerous you're just a Likkle Vicious As I leave my competition, respirator style Climb the ladder to success, escalator style Hold y'all breath, I told y'all, death controls y'all Big don't fold y'all, (big don't fold y'all) I spit phrases that'll thrill you, (thrill you) You're nobody till somebody kills you (I don't wanna die)
[Biggie] (chorus) Do you know where your going too Just a memory...everybody dying When I throw my clip in the AK May you rest in peace Your nobody till somebody kills you
Do you know where your goin too Just a memory...so you better pack a pistol Everybody dying, death controls y'all Your nobody till somebody kills you
[Pusha T] Label limbo, I treat it like the wind blows My back don't bend, see papi is my kenfolk Spin out the work, as if it's on a ten spoke Soul benefactor the benz, he made the rims poke Trust me they can't touch P, in one touchie Turn drop-head coupe to dune-buggy Admire the verses, their inspired by the hearses That carried my niggaz, and had the church mothers cursing Imagine the glamour that comes out the flow Of a nigga who still play in the snow like Santa The wrist is Russian, my ears is blushing And the diamonds in my chain, big as grandma's buttons, (yes!) On the flipside, the steel I'm gripping You thought all the floss had me slipping? Think again, blink again let me know that your bluffing Lead give permanent concussion, your nothing
[Malice] Ha ha ha ha ha check out the facade On the face of rap, so we gon raise the bar A mil on the crib, mean a quarter on the car Bentley coupe another short of the arnage Even as a youth I was laudering the stoop Underneath the nose, and the Feds had no clue I was pushing keys in a V with no roof Rich, black, two big guns and no coof Things at the label, well they tend to get unstable And that pretty much leave Malice at the table Or over the stove with the flame to the ladle Because Im a provider as long as I am able This here hue the most foolish of blues When I tell my mom the price She damn near sent me to my room It's the M-A-L-I-C-I-O-U-S You don't wanna try nigga, you next uhh
[Diddy] Biggie Duets... Born Again... Life After Death... Legacy lives on..and on, and on These motherfuckers still can't see you BIG Shit you ain't even here.. Motherfuckers better step their game up.. Greatest of all time, Greatest of all time! Motherfuckers...
Songwriters: Goffin, Gerry / Combs, Sean / Wallace, Christopher / Masser, Michael / Murphy, Derek / Hall, Robert A / Aznavour, Charles / Gall, Robert / Black, Don / Johnson, George / Preston, Billy / Louhsdon, Jean / Lopez, Ethram / Jordan, Steven A