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作词 : Stevie J./Notorious B.I.G./Sean "Puffy" Combs/Jalacy Hawkins/Chris Martin/William Conti/Marshall Mathers/Jason Phillips/Leroy Watson/Obie Trice III/Trevor G Smith Jr
作曲 : Stevie J./Notorious B.I.G./Sean "Puffy" Combs/Jalacy Hawkins/Chris Martin/William Conti/Marshall Mathers/Jason Phillips/Leroy Watson/Obie Trice III/Trevor G Smith Jr
It has been, it has been, it has been
It has been said,
That there has been known to be bloodshed
Over bread,
Men who have bled to death, dead
Strapped to beds, pipe bombs, dynamite,
Lead money power respect, street cred, yeah
It's scary ain't it?
Picture yourself going out as a hero
Picture mural pictures of us painted
All over street corners
Fans meet to mourn us,
While we meet the coroners
Notorious tried to warn us
We watched,
So many Biggie backed off of
Biggie's back and 'Pac's, landmarks, history in rap
Statistically in fact;
It's so sad to see us re-enact
These tragic events, which lead us back
To where we left off on March 9th
To come from such hard knock lifes
And make it up out of them, hit the spotlights
And, once they're on us this is our lives
Thrust out for all eyes to cast upon us
To see who can last the longest
And he who lasts the longest,
Must be the strongest
In this concrete jungle,
Where this dog eat dog mentality comes from
It's origin,
Which is usually originated from cats who starving
Or it could just be somebody's horror,
That just horri-fies
And applies to his persona or the sizes
In his entou-rage, that intimidates the people
To the point that you know that he's gangster
He ain't just say ****, you just believe it
Since B.I.B. taught us ****** to think big
I'm been about my business since then,
So anxious
It ain't how we live,
It's what he said,
He did it for Brooklyn
This I took in, sent chills through my skin
Vicious, I'm experiencin the same sights as him
It's what excited Obie to write these poems
Rolling, going through the same **** he spoken
Open up my eyes so there's no limit in them skies
When Ready to Die was a sick part of my life
Palmin that forty-five, plottin to pop my mind
Then that crooked eye Jamaican
I'd so many times rewind
Got me to walk a straight line and get up on my grind
Get up out the system,
Who could give him better signs
No pop of mine could top Big Poppa rhymes
So possibly I'd be popular huh?
That's the inspiration I got from my ***** B.I.
I took him from coal to diamond,
I molded his mind
Enter the most phenomenal artist of any and all time
I made a Frankenstein,
My design impressed
Backpackers and press who said my house was a mess
Critics lashed,
Said I made a fortune off of his passin
All I did was build a dynasty, off of his passion
And I'm addressing the adolesencents absent to who he is
The original king of New York,
Christopher Wallace
This is a promise on Diddy's honor,
I'm a father T'Yanna
And teach her that with all the drama
Don't even bother
On repeat, all of your albums play back to back
And I visit your grave cause our friendship's intact
An immaculate concept, extravagant progress
Bullet wounds left in my heart, I'm yellin "God bless"
Regardless to critics yellin that East/West
I seen the game losing,
I'm just pressing the reset
And when the ressurection of you shines through an individual
Lyrical enough to wear the same crown of thorns literally!
I'ma pay homage, Brooklyn's finest
Whether it's Queens or Harlem
It'll be instant stardom, *****!
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