Les meilleures lignes de Notorious B.I.G.

13 Déc , 2016  

Du lourd! C’est le cas de le dire.


Word to mother, I’m dangerous, Crazier than a bag of fuckin’ angel dust

(Gimme The Loot)


On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet
Look how dark it get when you’re marked for death

(Kick In The Door)


Now my popularity grew in each state
Now I got 2 in each state
Used to drink brew and eat steak
Now I pop bottles with models
Larger stakes on large estates

(The World Is Filled)


It don’t make sense goin to heaven with the goodie goodies dressed in white, I like Black Timbs and black hoodies

(Suicidal Thoughts)


Relax and take notes while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke
Throw you in a choke, gun smoke, gun smoke

(Dead Wrong)


You cursed it, but rehearsed it
I drop unexpectedly like bird shit

(Kick In The Door)


The Moet and Alize keep me pissy
Girls used to diss me
Now they write letters ‘cause they miss me



With my sycamore style, more sicker than yours

(You’re Nobody)


She don’t remember shit, She don’t remember shit, just the two hits
Her hitting the floor and me hitting the clit
Sucking on the tits, had the hooker begging for the dick
And your moms ain’t ugly, love, my dick got rock quick

(Dead Wrong)


You should know my steelo, went from 10 G’s for Blow,
To 30 G’s a show to orgies with hoes I never seen before

(Kick in the Door)


I was a terror since the public school era
Bathroom passes, cutting classes, squeezing asses
Smoking blunts was a daily routine
Since 13, a chubby nigga on the scene

(Party And Bullshit)


I’ve been in this game for years, it made me an animal,
there’s rules to this shit so i wrote myself a manual
A step-by-step booklet for you to get
Your game on track, not your wig pushed back

(Ten Cracks Commandments)


I got techniques drippin out my buttcheeks
Sleep on my stomach so I don’t fuck up my sheets

(Ready To Die)


This goes out for those that choose to use
Disrespectful views on the King of N-Y
Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye
Now ya brailling it, snatch that light shit, I’m scaling it

(Kick In The Door)


There’s gonna be a lot of slow singing, and flower bringing,
If my burglar alarm starts ringing



In a sec I throw the tec to your fuckin neck
Everybody hit the deck, Biggie bout to get some wreck
Quick to leave you in a coffin, for slick talkin
You better act like CeCe, and keep on walkin
When I hit ya, I split ya to the white meat
You swung on like you slumber right you fell to the conrete
Your face, my feet, they meet, we’re stompin
I’m rippin MC’s from Tallahassee, to Compton

(Ready To Die)


Because the streets is a short stop
Either you’re slinging crack rock or you got a wicked jump shot

(Things Done Changed)


Seen body after body and my Mayor Giuliani ain’t trying to see no black man turn to John Gotti

(Everyday Struggle)


You ain’t fazing the amazing
While your gun’s raising, mine is blazing

(I Love The Dough)


I got seven Mac-11’s, about eight .38’s
Nine 9’s, ten Mac-10’s the shits never end,
You can’t touch my riches
Even if you had MC Hammer and them 357 bitches

(Come On)


Remember when I used to play between your legs?
You begged for me to stop because you know where it would head

(Fuck You Tonight)


Stay far from timid
Only make moves when your heart’s in it
And live the phrase sky’s the limit

(Sky’s The Limit)


If the beef between us, we can settle it
With the chrome and metal shit
I make it hot like a kettle get
You’re delicate, you better get – who sent ya?
You still pedal shit, I got more rides than “Great Adventure”

(Kick In The Door)


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

(The What)


Who the fuck wanna squeeze?
My Desert E’s make MC’s freeze
You wakin up in cold sweats, they just dreams
You still apologizin, analyzin, my size and your size and
Realizin, a fist fight would be asinine

(Last Day)


Ain’t no other king in this rap thing
They siblings, nothing but my children
One shot, they disappearin

(Kick In The Door)


Faites tourner !