Music Video

Hope You N****s Sleep (feat. Hot Boys & Big Tmer) (2005 Remaster)
Watch Hope You N****s Sleep (feat. Hot Boys & Big Tmer) (2005 Remaster) on YouTube

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Big Tmer
Big Tmer
Vocals
Hot Boys
Hot Boys
Vocals
The Notorious B.I.G.
The Notorious B.I.G.
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bryan Christopher Williams
Bryan Christopher Williams
Songwriter
Byron Thomas
Byron Thomas
Songwriter
Christopher Noel Dorsey
Christopher Noel Dorsey
Songwriter
Christopher Wallace
Christopher Wallace
Songwriter
Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.
Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr.
Songwriter
Osten Harvey
Osten Harvey
Songwriter
Tab Virgil
Tab Virgil
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Manny Fresh
Manny Fresh
Producer
Easy Mo Bee
Easy Mo Bee
Original Producer

Lyrics

Yeah Bad Boy Cash Money 2000, baby Check the pain I inflict, like a convict, the Fulton digger Jump in the Acura Vigor, after I stick ya Rip ya like a razor, straight up Henny with no chaser Watch me erase ya, misplace ya Put you in the back with the derelicts Yeah, I pop plenty shit Chump, I'm making hits No time for the crack rock and shit Took it to another level Now I'm getting crazy papes, getting paid from the devils, uh Another amateur tryna damage the pedigree Of the B-I-G-G-I-E, you know it's me Hoes, I thought you know I'm smooth as a baby's ass Smooth as Teeddy Pendegrass, smoke the grass, get in your ass The Brooklyn-born Teflon don, wrecking shop Getting props, proving nobody drops Words as potent as the blunt smoking Bed-Stuy bandit And niggas just can't understand it I bust a cap for the brothers in Nap Nap Comstock, and Clinton, you know my shit is hitting Yeah, ya'll, a fly nigga, Biggie Smalls Kicking flavor, make a nigga wanna dig up in their drawers For the burner, catch a body I got styles like karate Jujitsu, when I hit you then I split you Like a cantaloupe Hope you got a rope to hang yourself I rob for self; from Brooklyn, where else? Fat like a Lexus coupe, I ripped your troop Not even Lois Lane could get the scoop What you think, I'm stupid? My crew is mad deep I hope you niggas sleep, ha I throw a bomb through you window Burn you up and your hoe I catch your mama going to therapy and cut her throat Your lil' sister walking home from school I abduct her, then I fuck her I hit ya park close up with the Louisville Slugger BGeezy is the hustla, ignorant motherfucker I was taught how to bust heads by the best head-busters Cluckers, you know I got'em two for one, my nigga I'm on V.L. if you want me, get some my nigga, come on Thuggin is my thing, if I'm beefing, I'm banging Slanging, it's in my nature, gotta be about my paper Haters, I don't like 'em; bitches, I don't trust 'em Niggas, I can't stand 'em; I creep down and pluck 'em Strap sTay in my hand, I gotta protect mine Niggas trying to pull it off, "pop," goes the nine That's how it gotta be in these uptown streets And a nigga like me, I play the game for keeps, nigga I remember when niggas slang heroin up in balloons I paid attention to everything, from killings to cartoons Got a picture of Malcolm X on the wall in my room, bitch Want some ol' nigga? Fuck with me, I'ma do 'em, shit Nigga give me dope, I accept it, but don't respect him Put my foot in their rectum right after I dome checked 'em I be popping D, smoking weed, and full of that Hennesey Fresh off the streets on my way to the penitentiary Everybody whisper in ears when they wan' mention me I been out doing it for years, since elementary Real good relationship with guns and drugs Because my whole neighborhood consist of crooks and thugs Everything is my own, shit, 'cause I don't fuck with scrubs I don't need you harassing me when I'm up in the club Tryna hustle a nigga, asking me for a dub Quarter, ki's, and halfs is what I sling, 'cause that's what I love I know you bitches know that I ain't to be played with Don't have no picks and chooses who get they head split They die quick, fuckin with Turk, wodie get whacked Spend a bin with Kevin and Randy, leave ya flat on you back And trust that, ain't 'bout to let no nigga steal me Fuck that, I bust back with .223 Big and full of that raw with no cut and be ready to creep Innocent people move 'cause somebody fixin to get split Nah, nah, it's Iceberg Shorty, Lordy have mercy Come from under my shirts and flip 'em and reverse 'em I'm coming so alert them (prr, prr) 'Fore I hurt them, Desert Eagle bursting You haven't seen the worst, and I'm right near you and my gun blast quick, dog Could kill you so run, dash, get gone Wodies movin slow around this time, they got bricks, dog I ain't got bricks dog, nigga break it off, what Un-huh, B.I.G. with them Cash Money Millionaires, forever Juvenile, Lil Wayne, Baby, Turk, B.G., Manny Fresh Slim, CEO, and me: P. Diddy, B.I.G, Born Again And we won't stop, get money, niggas
Writer(s): Christopher Wallace, Dwayne Carter, Byron O. Thomas, Bryan Williams, Christopher Noel Dorsey, Tab Virgil Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out