The Notorious B.I.G. - I Got a Story to Tell текст песни

Текст песни I Got a Story to Tell - The Notorious B.I.G.



Who y'all talkin to man
Uhh
Check it out, check it out
This here goes out
To all the niggaz that be fuckin mad bitches
In other niggaz cribs
Thinkin shit is sweet
Nigga creep up on your ass, hahaha
Live niggaz respect it, check it
I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya
Even left all my motherfuckin hoes for ya
Niggaz think frankie pussy whipped, nigga 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
Petiteness but that ass fat
She got a body make a nigga wanna eat that, I'm fucking witchu
The bitch official doe, dick harder than a missile yo
Try to hit if she trippin dissapearin like Arsenio
Yo, the bitch push a double-oh
With the five in front, probably a connivin' stunt
Y'all drive in front, I'm a peel with her
Find a deal with her, she fuck around and steal, huh
Then we all get laced
Television's, Versace heaven, when I'm up in em
The shit she kicked, all the shit's legit
She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks
Nigga tricked ridiculous, the shit was plush
She's stressin me to fuck, like she was in a rush
We fucked in his bed, quite dangerous
I'm in his ass while he playin gainst the utah jazz
My 112, cd blast, I was past
She came twice I came last, roll the grass
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 bitch you better talk to him
Before this fist put a spark to him
Fuck around shit 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 cocks the toast, uhh
Before my eyes could blink
She screams out, honey bring me up something to drink
He go back downstairs more time to think
Her brain racing, she's tellin me to stay patient
She don't know I'm, cool as a fan
Gat in hand, I don't wanna blast her man
But I can and I will though, I probably chill doe
Even though situation lookin kinda ill yo
It came to me like a song I wrote
Told the bitch gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope
Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face
Roped the bitch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase
Play the cut, nigga comin off some love potion shit
Flash the heat on 'em, he stood emotionless
Dropped the glass screamin, don't blast here's the stash
A hundred cash just don't shoot my ass, please
Nigga pullin mad g's out the floor
Put stacks in a Prada knapsack, hit the door
Grab the keys to the five, call my niggas on the cell
Bring some weed I got a story to tell, uhh
Yo man, y'all niggaz ain't gonna believe what the fuck happened to me
Remember that bitch I left the club with man yo, freaky yo, I'm up in
This bitch playa this bitch fuckin run them ol mink ass niggaz and shit
I'm up in the spot though, one of them six-five niggaz, I don't know
Anyway I'm up in the motherfuckin spot, so boom I'm up in the pussy
Whatever whatever, I sparks up some lye, pop duke creeps up in on some
Must have been rained out or something 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 nigga
Comes up the stairs, he creepin up the steps, the bitch all shook she
Sends the nigga back downstairs to get some drinks and shit. She gettin
Mad nervous, I said fuck that man I'm the nigga, you know how we do it
Nigga, ransom note style put the scarf around my motherfuckin face
Gagged that bitch up, played the kizzack. Soon this nigga comes up in
The spot, flash the desert in his face he drops the glass, looked like
The nigga pissed on his-self or somethin, word to mother ahh fuck it
This nigga runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet, start givin me
Mad papers, mad papers, I told you that bitch was a shiesty bitch cuz
Word to mother I used to fuck her cousin but you ain't know that hahaha
You wouldn't know that shit, really though, I threw all that
Motherfuckin money up in the prada knapsack. two words, I'm gone
No doubt, no doubt, no doubt, yo nigga got some lye, y'all got
Some lye



Авторы: SEAN COMBS, CHUCKY THOMPSON, ANTHONY BEST, CHRISTOPHER WALLACE


The Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death
Альбом Life After Death
дата релиза
25-03-1997




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