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lyrics > notorious big

notorious big lyrics

Hypnotize Lyrics
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]

Big Poppa Lyrics
[Intro]
Uh, uh, check it out
Junior M.A.F.I.A., uh, um
(i like this, yeah)
Uh, yeah, 94'

[Notorious B.I.G. - Verse One]
To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
Allow me to lace these lyrical duches in your bushes
Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies?
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
Because 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 by The Notorious B.I.G.]
(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

[Notorious B.I.G. - 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 rendezvou 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 by The Notorious B.I.G.]
(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

[Notorious B.I.G. - 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 (whaat)
Still tote gats strapped with infrared beams
Choppin o's, smokin lye an' 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, (check it)
Tell your friends, to get with my friends (your freinds)
And we can be friends
Shit we can do this every weekend (that's right)
Aight? Is that aight with you?
Yeah... keep bangin)

[Chorus by The Notorious B.I.G.]
(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

[Biggie Ad libin']
Uhh, Check it out,
My full shit, for that ass,
Uhh, Puff Daddy, Biggie Smalls,
Junior M.A.F.I.A., represent baby bay-bay!
Uhh!

Notorious B.I.G. Lyrics
[Puff Daddy]
Push
C'mon Shorty stay push, c'mon
C'mon, c'mon push it's almost there
One more time, c'mon
*baby cries*
C'mon push baby, one more time
*baby cries*
Harder harder, push harder
Push, push, c'mon
One more time, here it goes!
I see the head!
Yeah c'mon!
YEAH! YEAHHHH!
You did it baby, yeah!

*Curtis Mayfield's "Super Fly" plays over this*

*Sugarhill Gang's "Rappers Delight" fades in*

... the hibby, the hibby dibby hip hop and ya don't stop!
Rock it out baby bubba, to the boogedy bang bang
The boogey to the boogedy beat
Now what you hear is not a test, I'm rappin, to the beat

*voice comes in over*
God damnit, what the fuck are you doin?
You can't control that god damn boy? (What?)
I just saw Ms. Jersey, he told me he caught the
motherfuckin boy and chopped him
(Get your black ass off!)
You can't control the god, I don't know
what the fuck to do with that boy
(What the fuck do you, whatta you do?)
If if you can't fuckin control him
(All you fuckin do is bitch at me)
Bitch, what I say, I'ma send his motherfuckin ass
to a group home goddamnit, what??
I'll smack the shit outta you bitch
(Take your black ass, the fuck outta here)
Motherfucker, you are fuckin up
(Comin in here, smellin like pile of shit, dumb motherfucker)

*Sugarhill fades out, Audio Two fades in*

Gizmo's cuttin, up for the
Suckers that's, down with me!

What nigga you wanna rob them motherfuckin trains you crazy?
B.I.G.: Yes, yes, motherfucker, motherfuckin right, nigga yes
Nigga what the fuck nigga? We gonna get...
B.I.G.: Nigga it's eighty-seven nigga, is you dead broke?
Yeah nigga but, but...
B.I.G.: Motherfucker is you broke motherfucker?
We need to get some motherfuckin paper nigga
Yeah but nigga it's a train ain't nobody robbed no motherfuckin train
B.I.G.: Just listen man, your mother givin you money nigga?
My moms don't give me shit nigga, it's time to get paid nigga
is you wit me? *gun clicks* Motherfuck is you wit me?
Yeah I'm wit you nigga c'mon
B.I.G.: Alright then nigga lets make it happen then
All you motherfuckers get on the fuckin floor! *blam blam*
Get on the motherfuckin floor!
B.I.G.: Chill, give me all your motherfuckin money
And don't move nigga!
B.I.G.: Give me all your motherfuckin money, I want the jewelry
Give me every fuckin thing
Nigga I'd shut the fuck up or I'ma blow your motherfuckin brains out!
Nigga, give me your jewerly, give me your wallet
B.I.G.: Fuck you bitch, get up off that shit
What the fuck you holdin on to that shit for bitch?

*Audio Two fades out, Snoop Dogg fades in*

Open C-74, Smalls

Mr. Smalls, let me walk you to the door
So how does it feel leavin us?
B.I.G.: C'mon man, what kind of fuckin question is that man?
Tryin to get the fuck up out this joint dog
Yeah, yeah, you'll be back
You niggaz always are
B.I.G.: Go head man, what the fuck is you hollerin about?
You won't see me up in this motherfucker no mroe
We'll see
B.I.G.: I got big plans nigga, big plans, hahahahaha

Going Back To Cali Lyrics
[phone number being dialed]
[phone rings three times]
[Biggie] Yo!
[P. Dad] Yo Big wake up wake up baby
[Biggie] Mmm, yo...
[P. Dad] Yo Big wake yo' ass up c'mon
[Biggie] I'm up! I'm up. *mumbling* I'm up I'm up
[P. Dad] Big, wake up!
[Biggie] I'm up baby, what the fuck, man? What's up?
[P. Dad] C'mon now it's a quarter to six we got the 7:30 flight
[Biggie] Mmm, *mumbling* yeah
[P. Dad] Yo Big Big, Big
[Biggie] Yeah I hear you dogg, I hear you, alright, 7:30
[P. Dad] Yo take down this information
[Biggie] Ain't no pen
[P. Dad] Tell your girl then to remember it or somethin
[Biggie] Aight honey, yeah write this down
[P. Dad] Aight, ummm, flight five-oh-four
[Biggie] Five-oh-four
[P. Dad] Leaving Kennedy
[Biggie] mumbling Kennedy
[P. Dad] On the L-A-X
[Biggie] Oh! Cali??
[P. Dad] No doubt baby, you know we gotta get this paper
[Biggie] Ahh, no doubt, aight
[P. Dad] You aight?
[Biggie] I'm up, I'm up
[P. Dad] Yo Big
[Biggie] I'm UP man
[P. Dad] Flight five-oh-four
[Biggie] Alright 7:30 I'ma meet you at the airport
[P. Dad] California
[Biggie] Yeh
[phone clicks]

[Verse One: Notorious B.I.G.]
When the lala hits ya lyrics just splits ya
Head so hard, that ya hat can't fit ya
Either I'm witcha or against ya
Format venture, back through that maze I sent ya
Talkin to the rap inventor
Nigga wit the game tight, Bic that flame right
Spell my name right, B-I, Double-G, I-E
Iced out lights out, me and Ceasar Leo
Gettin head from some chick he know
See it's all about the cheddar, nobody do it better
Going back to Cali, strictly for the weather
Women, and the weed -- sticky green
No seeds bitch please, Poppa ain't soft
Dead up in the Hood, ain't no love lost
Got me mixed up, you drunk them licks up
Mad cause I got my dick sucked
and my balls licked, forfeit, the game is mine
I'ma spell my name one more time, check it
Its the, N-O, T-O, R-I, O
U-S, you just, lay down, slow
Recognize a real Don when you see Juan/one
Sippin on booze in the House of Blues

[Chorus: repeat 4X]
I'm going going, back back, to Cali Cali

[Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.]
If I got to choose a coast I got to choose the East
I live out there, so don't go there
But that don't mean a nigga can't rest in the West
See some nice breasts in the West
Smoke some nice sess in the West, y'all niggaz is a mess
Thinkin I'm gon stop, givin L.A. props
All I got is beef with those that violate me
I shall annihilate thee
Case closed, suitcase filled with clothes
Linens and things, I begin things
People start to flash, 818's, 213's
313's, B.I.G.
Frequently floss hoes at Roscoe's
If I wanna squirt her, take her to Fatburger
Spend about a week on Venice Beach
Sippin Crist-o, with some freaks from Frisco

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G.]
Cali got gunplay, models on the runway
Scream Biggie Biggie gimme One More Chance
I be whippin on the freeway, the NYC way
On the celly-celly with my homeboy Lance
Pass hash from left to right
Only got five blunts left to light, I'm set tonight
Paid a visit to Versace stores
Bet she suck until I ain't got no more, only in L.A.
Bust on bitches be-lly, rub it in they tummy
Lick it, say it's yummy, then fuck yo' man
Fuck your plan, is it to rock the Tri-State?
Almost gold, 5 G's at show gate
Or do you wanna see about seven digits
Fuck hoes exquisite, Cali, great place to visit
[Chorus]
[Chorus]
[Chorus: Again to fade]

Mo Money Mo Problems Lyrics
(feat. Mase, Puff Daddy)
[Verse One: Mase]
Now, who's hot who not
Tell me who rock who sell out in the stores
You tell me who flopped who copped the blue drop
Who jewels got robbed who's mostly Goldie down
to the tube sock, the same ol pimp
Mase, you know ain't nuttin change but my limp
Can't stop till I see my name on a blimp
Guarantee a million sales pullin all the love
You don't believe in Harlem World nigga double up
We don't play around it's a bet lay it down
nigga didn't know me ninety-one bet they know me now
I'm the young Harlem nigga with the Goldie sound
Can't no PHD niggaz hold me down, Cooter
schooled me to the game, now I know my duty
Stay humble stay low blow like Hootie
True pimp niggaz spend no dough on the booty
And then ya yell there go Mase there go your cutie
[singers come in over this last line]

I don't know what, they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see
[repeat 2X]

[Verse Two: Puff Daddy]

Yeah yeah, ahaha, from the C-to-the-A-to-the-D-D-Y
know you'd rather see me die than to see me fly
I call all the shots
Rip all the spots, rock all the rocks
Cop all the drops, I know you thinkin now's
when all the ballin stops, nigga never
home got a chrome one and a yacht
Ten years from now we'll still be on top
Yo, I thought I told you that we won't stop
Now whatcha gonna do when it's cool
bag a money much longer than yours
and a team much stronger than yours, violate me
this'll be your day, we don't play
Mess around be D.O.A., be on your way
Cause it ain't enough time here, ain't enough lime here
for you to shine here, deal with many women
but treat dimes fair, and I'm
bigger than the city lights down in Times Square
Yeah, yeah yeah

I don't know what, they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see
[repeat 2X]

[Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G.]

Uhh, uhhh
B.I.G., P-O, P-P-A
No info, for the, DEA
Federal agents mad cause I'm flagrant
Tap my cell, and the phone in the basement
My team supreme, stay clean
Triple beam lyrical dream, I be that
Cat you see at all events bent
Gats in holsters girls on shoulders
Playboy, I told ya, bein mice to me
Bruise too much, I lose, too much
Step on stage the girls boo too much
I guess it's cause you run with lame dudes too much
Me lose my touch, never that
If I did, ain't no problem to get the gat
Where the true players at?
Throw your roadies in the sky
Wave em side to side and keep their hands high
While I give your girl the eye, player please
Lyrically, niggaz see, B.I.G.
be flossin jig on the cover of Fortune
Five double oh, get the phone number
your name, I got to know, I got to go
Got the flow down phizat, platinum plus
Like thizat, dangerous
on trizack, leave your ass kizzack

I don't know what, they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see
[repeat 3X]
What's goin on?
What's goin on?
I don't know what, they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see
[repeat 3X to fade]

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