notorious big - i got a story to tell lyrics
who why’all talkin to man?
uhh
check it out, check it out
this here goes out
to all the n-gg-z that be f-ckin mad b-tches
in other n-gg-z cribs
thinkin sh-t is sweet
n-gg- creep up on your -ss, hahaha
live n-gg-z respect it, check it
i kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya
even left all my motherf-ckin hoes for ya
n-gg-z think frankie p-ssy whipped, n-gg- 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?
pet-teness but that -ss fat
she got a body make a n-gg- want to eat that, i’m f-ck witchu
the b-tch official doe, d-ck harder than a missile yo
try to hit if she trippin dissapearin like -rs-nio
yo, the b-tch push a double-oh
with the five in front, probably a connivin stunt
why’all drive in front, i’m a peel with her
find a deal with her, she f-ck around and steal, huh?
then we all get laced
television’s, versacci heaven, when i’m up in em
the sh-t she kicked, all the sh-t’s legit
she get d-ck from a player off the new york knicks
n-gg- tricked ridiculous, the sh-t was plush
she’s stressin me to f-ck, like she was in a rush
we f-cked in his bed, quite dangerous
i’m in his -ss while he playin gainst the utah jazz
my 112, cd blast, i was past
she came twice i came last, roll the gr-ss
she giggle, say i don’t smoke it on homegrown
then i heard her moan, honey i’m home
yep, tote chrome for situations like this
i’m up in his broad i know he won’t like this
now i’m like b-tch you better talk to him
before this fist put a spark to him
f-ck around sh-t 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 c-cks 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 want to blast her man
but i can and i will doe, i probably chill doe
even though situation lookin kinda ill yo
it came to me like a song i wrote
told the b-tch gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope
got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face
roped the b-tch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase
play the cut, n-gg- comin off some love potion sh-t
flash the heat on em, he stood emotionless
dropped the gl-ss screamin, “don’t blast here’s the stash,
a hundred cash just don’t shoot my -ss, please!”
n-gg- pullin mad g’s out the floor
put stacks in a prater knapsack, hit the door
grab the keys to the five, call my n-gg-z on the cell
bring some weed i got a story to tell, uhh…
yo man, why’all n-gg-z ain’t gonna believe what the f-ck happened to me.
remember that b-tch i left the club with man? yo, freaky yo. i’m up in
this b-tch playa this b-tch f-ckin run them ol mink -ss n-gg-z and sh-t,
i’m up in the spot though. one of them six-five n-gg-z, i don’t know.
anyway i’m up in the motherf-ckin spot, so boom i’m up in the p-ssy,
whatever whatever. i sparks up some lye, pop duke creeps up in on some,
must have been rained out or something -laughing- because he’s in the
spot. had me scared, had me scared, i was shook daddy – but i forget i
had my roscoe on me. always. you know how we do. so anyway the n-gg-
comes up the stairs, he creepin up the steps, the b-tch all shook she
sends the n-gg- back downstairs to get some drinks and sh-t. she gettin
mad nervous, i said f-ck that man! i’m the n-gg-, you know how we do it
n-gg-, ransom note style put the scarf around my motherf-ckin face,
gagged that b-tch up, played the kizzack. soon this n-gg- comes up in
the spot, flash the desert in his face he drops the gl-ss. looked like
the n-gg- p-ssed on his-self or somethin, word to mother! ahh f-ckit
this n-gg- runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet, start givin me
mad papers, mad papers. (i told you that b-tch was a shiesty b-tch ’cause!
word to mother i used to f-ck her cousin but you ain’t know that! hahaha.
you wouldn’t know that sh-t. really though.) i threw all that
motherf-ckin money up in the prada knapsack. two words, i’m gone!
(no doubt, no doubt… no doubt!) yo n-gg- got some lye, why’all got
some lye?
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