In Honor of Biggie Smalls 46th Birthday, We Reminisce On 15 Memorable The Notorious B.I.G. Lyrics
by Site Manager
On March 9, 1997, the hip-hop world and the music industry as a whole lost one of it’s pioneers and icons — The Notorious B.I.G.
Leaving this earth at the young age of 24, Biggie was able to give the universe two albums while he was here. With lyrics like “lyrically, I’m supposed to represent” or “stay far from timid, only make moves when your heart’s in it and live the phrase sky’s the limit,” he quickly became a New York favorite.
In honor of the legend’s 46 birthday, we decided to throw up some ice for the nicest MC and highlight 15 of his most memorable bars.
Did your favorite Biggie lyrics make the cut? Let us know below.
“It was all a dream, I used to read Word Up! magazine/Salt-N-Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine/Hangin’ pictures on my wall/Every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl”
“Gimme the Loot”
“Then I’m dipping up the block and I’m robbing bitches too/Up the herringbones and bamboos/I wouldn’t give a fuck if you’re pregnant/Give me the baby rings and the No. 1 mom pendant”
“Who the fuck is this? Paging me at 5:46/In the morning, crack of dawn and/Now I’m yawning, wipe the cold out my eye/See who’s this paging me and why?”
“Straight up, honey, really I’m askin’/Most of these niggas 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 that make you smile, what numbers to dial”
“And those that rushes my clutches get put on crutches/Get smoked like dutches from the master/Hate to blast you but I have to, you see I smoke a lot/Your life is played out like Kwame and them fucking polka dots, who rock the spot, Biggie/You know how the weed go, unbelievable”
The Notorious B.I.G. Featuring Method Man
“So instead of making hoes suck my dick up/I used to do stick-ups, cause hoes is irritating like the hiccups/Excuse me, flows just grow through me/Like trees to branches, cliffs to avalanches/It’s the praying mantis, deep like the mind of Farrakhan/A motherfucking rap phenomenon”
“Super Nintendo, Sega Genesis/When I was dead broke, man, I couldn’t picture this/50-inch screen, money green leather sofa/Got two rides, a limousine with a chauffeur/Phone bill about two G’s flat/No need to worry, my accountant handles that/And my whole crew is lounging/Celebrating every day, no more public housing”
“I put hoes in NY onto DKNY/Miami, D.C. prefer Versace/All Philly hoes, go with Moschino/Every cutie wit a booty bought a Coogi”
“Fuck You Tonight”
“Some say the X, make the sex Spec-tacular/Make me lick you from yo’ neck to your back, then ya/Shivering, tongue delivering/Chills up that spine, that ass is mine/Skip the wine and the candlelight, no Cristal tonight/If it’s all right with you, we fuckin’ (that’s cool)”
“See me, B that is, I that is, G whiz/Motherfuckers still in my biz/Don’t they know my nigga Gutter fuckin’ kidnap kids/Fuck ’em in the ass, throw ’em over the bridge/That’s how it is, my shit is laid out/Fuck that beef shit, that shit is played out”
“I Got a Story to Tell”
“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”
“Sky’s the Limit”
“If the game shakes me or breaks me/I hope it makes me a better man, take a better stand/Put money in my mom’s hand/Get my daughter this college grant so she don’t need no man/Stay far from timid, only make moves when your heart’s in it/And live the phrase ‘Sky’s the limit'”
“Ten Crack Commandments”
“Number six, that goddamn credit? Dead it/You think a crackhead paying you back, shit forget it!/Seven, this rule is so underrated/Keep your family and business completely separated/Money and blood don’t mix like two dicks and no bitch/Find yourself in serious shit”
“Spit your game, talk your shit/Grab your gat, call your clique/Squeeze your clip, hit the right one/Pass that weed, I got to light one/All them niggas, I got to fight one/All them hoes, I got to like one/Our situation is a tight one/What you gonna do: fight or run?”
“Who Shot Ya”
“Who shot ya? Separate the weak from the obsolete/Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets/It’s 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/Then the shit stop when I foil the plot/Neighbors call the cops, said they heard mad shots”