Sunday, March 9, 2008

From Ashy to Classy...

Today 11 years ago, the rapper known as Notorious B.I.G. aka Biggie Smalls was gunned down in Los Angeles. That day the Hip Hop world lost a legendary standard bearer. I remember the first time I heard Biggie on "Party and Bulls-it", from the Who's the Man Soundtrack. Instead of doing the usual Sunday's Best, I figured I'd do a tribute to B.I.G., with a listing of the favorite lines from my favorite songs that he performed on. We'll always love Big Poppa!

Warning! You are about to enter a non-PC zone!!!

"(How ya livin Biggie Smalls?) I'm surrounded by criminalsHeavy rollers even the sheisty individuals. Smokin skunk and mad Phillies, Beatin down Billy Badasses, cracks in stacks and masses. If robbery's a class, bet I pass it, Shit get drastic, I'm buryin ya bastards.
Big Poppa never softenin, Take you to the church, rob the preacher for the offerin" 
- From "Players Anthem"

"Frank White the desperado, Used to rock the all black Movado, the all black Eldorado. All that and a bottle of Don P, Niggaz can't harm me, I keep the army. Is Brooklyn in the house? - Without a doubt I'm the rapper with clout everybody yap about, check it out: guns I bust em
Problems with my wife: don't discuss em, Coups and lier jets I lust them fingerprints I dust'em"
- From "Get Money" (Remix) 

"And I'm livin that, whole life, we push weight, Fuck the state pen, fuck hoes at Penn State. Listen close it's Francis, the Praying Mantis, Attack with the Mac, my left hand spit, right hand grip on the whip, for the smooth getaway Playa haters get away or my lead will spray. Squeeze off til I'm empty, don't tempt me, Only, to Hell I send thee, all about the Benji's What??"
-From "All About the Benjamins" (Remix)

"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 rendezvous at the bar around two."
-From "Big Poppa"

"Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin. Keep extra clips for extra shit, Whos next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap? The most shady, tell em!, frankie baby, Aint no tellin where I may be, May see me in d.c. at howard homecomin, With my man capone, dumbin, fuckin somethin. You should know my steelo, Went from ten gs for blow to thirty gs a show, To orgies with hoes I never seen befo(re)"
- From "Kick In the Door"

- "B.I.G., P-O, P-P-ANo info, for the, DEA. Federal agents mad cause I'm flagrant, Tapped 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"
- From "Mo' Money Mo' Problems"

- "Damn it feel good to see people up on it , Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it.  My brain is haunted, with mean dreams , GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer than Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani"
- From "Young G's"

- "I perform like Mike, Anyone -- Tyson, Jordan, Jackson. Action, pack guns, ridiculous, And im, quick to bust, if my ends you touch. Kids or girl you touch, in this world I clutch, Two auto-matoes, used to call me fatso, Now you call me Castro, my rap flows Militant"
- From "Victory"

- "Its on nigga, fuck all that bickering beef, I can hear sweat trickling down your cheek. Your heartbeat sound like sasquatch feet, Thundering, shaking the concrete. Finish it, stop, when I foil the plot, Neighbors call the cops said they heard mad shots. Saw me in the drop, three in the corner, Slaughter, electrical tape around your daughter, Old school new school need to learn though. I burn baby burn like disco inferno"
- From "Who Shot Ya'?"

- "Hunt me or be hunted, three hundred and fifty-seven ways, To summer sautee, Im the winner all day, Lights get dimmer down biggie's hallway. My forte causes caucausians to say, He sounds demented, car-weed scented. If I said it, I meant it Bite my tongue for no-one, Call me evil, or unbelievable."
- From "Unbelievable"

- "Who shot ya? Mob ties like Sinatra, Peruvians tried to do me in, I ain't paid them yet. Tryin to push 700's, they ain't made them yet, Rolex and bracelets is frostbit Rings too, niggas round the way call me Igloo Stick Who?"
- From "Brooklyn's Finest"

- You're wack to me, Take them rhymes back to the factory. I see, The gimmicks...the wack lyrics,
The shit is depressing...pathetic...please forget it. You're mad cause my style you're admiring, Don't be mad...UPS is hiring"
- From "Flava In Ya Ear (Remix)

- "First things first I poppa freaks all the honies, Dummies playboy bunnies those wantin money. Those the ones I like cause they don't get nathan, but penetration unless it smells like sanitation. Garbage I turn like doorknobs, Heart throb never black and ugly as ever. However I stay Coogi down to the socks, Rings and watch filled with rocks"
- From "One More Chance" (Remix)


Read the lyrics here:

I was a terror since the public school era
Bathroom passes, cuttin classes, squeezing asses
Smoking blunts was a daily routine
Since thirteen, a chubby nigga on the scene
I used to have the tre` duce
And the duce duce in my bubblegoose
Now i got the mack in my knapsack
Loungin' black, smoking sacks up in acts
And sidekicks with my sidekicks rockin fly kicks
Honeys want to chat
But all we wanna know is "Where the party at?"
And can i bring my gat?
If not, I hope I don't get shot
But i throw my vest on my chest
'Cause niggaz is a mess
It don't take nothin' but frontin' 
For me to start somethin'
Buggin' and barkin' at niggaz like i was duck huntin'
Dumbing out, just me and my crew
Cause all we wanna do is...

Party... And bullshit, and... (x9)

Hugs from the honeys, Pounds from the roughnecks
Seen my man Sei that I knew from the projects
Said he had beef, asked me if I had my peice
Sure do, two .22's in my shoes
Holler if you need me love i'm in the house
Roam and strollin' see what the honeys is about
Moet popping, hoe hopping, ain't no stopping Big Poppa, I'm a BADBOY
Niggaz wanna front, who got your back? (BIGGIE!)
Niggaz wanna flex, who got the gat? (BIGGIE!)
It ain't hard to tell I'm the east coast overdoser
Nigga you scared you're supposed to
Nigga I toast ya, put fear in your heart
Fuck up the party before it even start
Pissy drunk, off the Henny and stuff
Or some brand-nubian shit beatin' down punks!


Bitches in the back looking righteous
In a tight dress, i think i might just
Hit her with a little Biggie 101, How to tote a gun 
And have fun with Jamaician rum
Conversations, blunts in rotation
My man Big Jacques got the glock in his waist and
we're smoking, drinking, got the hooker thinking
If money smell bad than this nigga Biggie stinking
Is it my charm? I got the hookers eatin out my palm
She grabbed my arm and said "Let's leave calm"
I'm hittin' skins again
Rolled up another blunt, bought a Heineken
Niggaz start to loke out, a kid got choked out
Blows was thrown and a fucking fight broke out

[Music stops, indecipherable sounds of people yelling andarguing, 
Biggie breaks it up yelling "Yo chill, man, chill!"]

Can't we just all get along?
So i can put hickies on her chest like Li'l Shawn
Get her pissy drunk off of Don Perrignon
And it's on, and I'm gone
that's that.

[Chorus w/ Puff talking after selected lines]

Party... and Bullshit, (Party.)
and Party... and Bullshit, (Bullshit.)
and Party... and Bullshit, (Party.)
and Party... and Bullshit, (Bullshit.)
and Party... and Bullshit, (Yea... Junior Mafia likes that.)
and Party... and Bullshit, 
and Party... and Bullshit, (Uptown likes that.)
and Party... and Bullshit, 
and Party... and Bullshit, (Bad Boy likes that.)
and Party... and Bullshit, 
and Party... and Bullshit, (Brooklyn Crew likes that.)
and Party... and Bullshit, 
and Party... and Bullshit, (Third Eye likes that.)
and Party... and Bullshit,

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