Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Notorious B.I.G.
The Notorious B.I.G.
Vocals
Clipse
Clipse
Vocals
DJ Scram Jones
DJ Scram Jones
Scratches
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Billy Preston
Billy Preston
Songwriter
Charles Aznavour
Charles Aznavour
Songwriter
Don Black
Don Black
Songwriter
Ephram Lopez
Ephram Lopez
Songwriter
Gene Thornton
Gene Thornton
Songwriter
Geroge Johnson
Geroge Johnson
Songwriter
Gerry Goffin
Gerry Goffin
Songwriter
Jean Louhisdon
Jean Louhisdon
Songwriter
Lord Finesse
Lord Finesse
Songwriter
Michael Masser
Michael Masser
Songwriter
Robert Henri Gall
Robert Henri Gall
Songwriter
Stevie J.
Stevie J.
Songwriter
Terrence Thornton
Terrence Thornton
Songwriter
Christopher Wallace
Christopher Wallace
Songwriter
Derek Murphy
Derek Murphy
Songwriter
Sean Combs
Sean Combs
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Clipse
Clipse
Producer
Brad Rosenberg
Brad Rosenberg
Assistant Engineer
Kevin Wilson
Kevin Wilson
Mixing Engineer
DJ Scram Jones
DJ Scram Jones
Producer
Steve Sola
Steve Sola
Mixing Engineer
Daniel Betancourth
Daniel Betancourth
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Its Bad Boy bitch
Scram Jones... the Clipse... B.I.G
Let's go
**** in my faction don't like asking questions
Strictly gun testing, coke measuring
Giving pleasure in the Benz-ito
Hitting fanny, spendin chips at Manny's
Hope you creeps got receipts, my peeps get dirty like cleats
Run up in your crib, wrap you in your Polo sheets
Six up in your wig piece, **** decease
Muah!, may you rest in peace
With my Sycamore style, more sicker than yours
Four-four, and fifty-four draw
As my pilot, steers my Leer
Yes my dear shit's official, only the Feds I fear
Here's a tissue, stop your blood clot crying
The kids, the dog, everybody dyin, no lying
So don't you get suspicious
I'm Big dangerous you're just a Little Vicious
As I leave my competition, respirator style
Climb the ladder to success, escalator style
Hold y'all breath, I told y'all, death controls y'all
Big don't fold y'all, (big don't fold y'all)
I spit phrases that'll thrill you, (thrill you)
You're nobody till somebody kills you (I don't wanna die)
Do you know where you're going to?
Just a memory, everybody dying
When I throw my clip in the AK, may you rest in peace
Your nobody 'til somebody kills you
Do you know where you're going to?
Just a memory, everybody dying
When I throw my clip in the AK, may you rest in peace
Your nobody 'til somebody kills you
Label limbo, I treat it like the wind blows
My back don't bend, see papi is my kenfolk
Spin out the work, as if it's on a ten spoke
Soul benefactor the benz, he made the rims poke
Trust me they can't touch P, in one touchie
Turn drop-head coupe to dune-buggy
Admire the verses, their inspired by the hearses
That carried my ****, and had the church mothers cursing
Imagine the glamour that comes out the flow
Of a **** who still play in the snow like Santa
The wrist is rushing, my ears is blushing
And the diamonds in my chain, big as grandma's buttons, (yes!)
On the flipside, the steel I'm gripping
You thought all the floss had me slipping?
Think again, blink again let me know that your bluffing
Lead give permanent concussion, you're nothing
Do you know where you're going to?
Just a memory, everybody dying
When I throw my clip in the AK, may you rest in peace
Your nobody 'til somebody kills you
Do you know where you're going to?
Just a memory, everybody dying
When I throw my clip in the AK, may you rest in peace
Your nobody 'til somebody kills you
Ha ha ha ha ha check out the facade
On the face of rap, so we gon raise the bar
A mil on the crib, mean a quarter on the car
Bentley coupe another short of the arnage
Even as a youth I was loitering the stoop
Underneath the nose, and the Feds had no clue
I was pushing keys in a V with no roof
Rich, black, two big guns and no coof
Things at the label, well they tend to get unstable
And that pretty much leave Malice at the table
Or over the stove with the flame to the ladle
Because I'm a provider as long as I am able
This here hue the most foolish of blues
When I tell my mom the price
She damn near sent me to my room
It's the M-A-L-I-C-I-O-U-S
You don't wanna try ****, you next uhh
Biggie Duets...
Born Again...
Life After Death...
Legacy lives on..and on, and on
These motherfuckers still can't see you BIG
Shit you ain't even here..
Motherfuckers better step their game up..
Greatest of all time, Greatest of all time!
Motherfuckers...
Written by: Billy Preston, Charles Aznavour, Don Black, Ephram Lopez, Gene Thornton, Geroge Johnson, Gerry Goffin, Jean Louhisdon, Lord Finesse, Michael Masser, Robert Henri Gall, Sadat X, Sean "Puffy" Combs, Stevie J., Terrence Thornton, The Notorious B.I.G.
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