• Hi Guest: Welcome to TRIBE, the online home of TRIBE MAGAZINE. If you'd like to post here, or reply to existing posts on TRIBE, you first have to register. Join us!

Biggie

dj gboogie

TRIBE Member
As many of you know, March 9 th is the anniversary of Biggie's death... It's unbelievable that 9 years have already passed since the day Christopher Wallace was gunned down, and one of the most significant careers in Hip Hop history was abruptly cut short.

Baby Baby Baby.

G
 

rubytuesday

TRIBE Member
I like to imagine that Biggie, Tupac and maybe ODB are just hiding out on an island somewhere. I mean come on, look at all of the new material that keeps showing up. ;)
 

Mrs. Brick

TRIBE Member
omg, i cant believe it has been so long. i remember my retarded friend cried for like a week and built a shrine for him puffy, and faith hill. when i told her she was being ridiculous, she never talked to me again.
 

glych t.anomaly

TRIBE Member
hahahahaha

i love people that were so crippled with remorse over their music icons dying, that school, life and in short their meaning for existence, simply ceased.


[jai]


ps - nirvana still sucks.... and tupac was a better actor than he ever was as a ' rap artist '
 
tribe cannabis accessories silver grinders

agentRC4

TRIBE Member
Biggie went from "ashy to classy"

"super nintendo, sega genesis who'd ever thought my life would be like this?"
 

Taro

TRIBE Member
Mrs. Brick said:
omg, i cant believe it has been so long. i remember my retarded friend cried for like a week and built a shrine for him puffy, and faith hill. when i told her she was being ridiculous, she never talked to me again.
bwahahahaha..

that's hilarious!!!
:eek:

and I agree with Ruby, they're clearly on an island somewhere
 
tribe cannabis goldsmith - gold cannabis accessories

Snuffalupagus

TRIBE Member
"When I came home, mad messages was on my phone
Bitch named Simone
Screamin' she steamin' for the semen
Me being the man that I am, took her to her condo,pronto
half indan I called her Tonto"

"fuck tae kwon do I tote a fo'fo"

Biggie Smalls is the illest~~~
 
tribe cannabis goldsmith - gold cannabis accessories

dicksherwood

TRIBE Member
rip big, the game has suffered since you left but your legacy will never be forgotten

straight from bedford-stuyvesant, the livest one
 

Big League Chu

TRIBE Member
Nobody could ever make robbin' sound sooo damn good.
Best Track EVAH!!

The Notorious B.I.G.
Gimme The Loot

[Intro:]

Yeah. Motherfuckers better know... huh, huh. Lock your windows,
close your doors. Biggie Smalls, huh...yeah.

[Verse One:]

My man Inf left a Tec and a nine at my crib
Turned himself in, he had to do a bid
A one-to-three, he be home the end of '93
I'm ready to get this paper, G, you with me?

Motherfucking right, my pocket's looking kind of tight
and I'm stressed, yo Biggie let me get the vest

No need for that, just grab the fucking gat
The first pocket that's fat the Tec is to his back
Word is bond, I'm a smoke him yo don't fake no moves (what?)
Treat it like boxing: stick and move, stick and move

Nigga, you ain't got to explain shit
I've been robbin motherfuckers since the slave ships
with the same clip and the same four-five
Two point-blank, a motherfucker's sure to die
That's my word, nigga even try to bogart
have his mother singing "It's so hard..."

Yes, love love you're fucking attitude
because the nigga play pussy that's the nigga that's getting screwed
and bruised up from the pistol whipping
webs on the neck from the necklace stripping
Then I'm dipping up the block and I'm robbing bitches too
up the herring bones and bamboos
I wouldn't give fuck if you're pregnant
Give me the baby rings and a #1 MOM pendant

I'm slamming niggaz like Shaquille, shit is real
When it's time to eat a meal I rob and steal
'cos Mom Duke ain't giving me shit
so for the bread and butter I leave niggaz in the gutter
Huh, word to mother, I'm dangerous
Crazier than a bag of fucking Angel Dust
When I bust my gat motherfuckers take dirt naps
I'm all that and a dime sack, where the payback?

[Verse Two:]

Big up, big up, it's a stick up, stick up
and I'm shooting niggaz quick if you hiccup
Don't let me fill my clip up in your back and head piece
The opposite of peace sending Mom Duke a wreath
You're talking to the robbery expert
Stepping to your wake with your blood on my shirt
Don't be a jerk and get smoked over being resistant
'cos when I lick shots the shits is persistent

Huh, goodness gracious the papers
Where the cash at? Where the stash at?
Nigga, pass that before you get your grave dug
from the main thug, .357 slug
And my nigga Biggie got an itchy one grip

One in the chamber, 32 in the clip
Motherfuckers better strip, yeah nigga peel
before you find out how blue steel feel

from the Beretta, putting all the holes in your sweater
The money getter motherfuckers don't have better
Rolex watches and colourful Swatches
I'm digging in pockets, motherfuckers can't stop it

Man, niggaz come through I'm taking high school rings too
Bitches get stripped down for they earrings and bangles
and when I rock her and drop her I'm taking her door knockers
And if she's resistant "baka! baka! baka!"

So go get your man bitch he can get robbed too

Tell him Biggie took it, what the fuck he gonna do?

I hope apologetic or I'm a have to set it
and if I set it the cocksucker won't forget it

[Verse Three:]

Man, listen all this walking is hurting my feet
But money looks sweet (where at?) in the Isuzu jeep

Man, I throw him in the Beem, you grab the fucking C.R.E.A.M
and if he start to scream "bam! bam!", have a nice dream
Hold up, he got a fucking bitch in the car
Fur coats and diamonds, she thinks she a superstar

Ooh Biggie, let me jack her, I kick her in the back
Hit her with the gat...

Yo chill, Shorty, let me do that...
Just get the fucking car keys and cruise up the block
The bitch act shocked, gettin shot on the spot
(Oh shit! The cops!) Be cool, fool
They ain't gonna roll up, all they want is fucking doughnuts
(So why the fuck he keep lookin?) I guess to get his life tooken
I just came home, ain't trying to see Central Booking
Oh shit, now he lookin in my face
You better haul ass 'cos I ain't with no fucking chase
So lace up your boots, 'cos I'm about to shoot
A true motherfucker going out for the loot
 
tribe cannabis accessories silver grinders

quantumize

TRIBE Member
a t bone steak cheese eggs and welches grape

conversate for a few

cuz in a few we gonna do what we came to do aint that right boo...true
 

GivinUsociety

TRIBE Member
groovespinna said:
wow. 9 years. I fucking LOVED the BIG.
but then again, his death turned me to house, so it wasn't all bad.
RIP.

LOL...same here....hip hop stopped when Biggie died....Puff Daddy or P. Diddy took over and hip hop became hip POP...Sometime I wonder if P.Shitty killed Biggie...P.Shitty became so popular right after Biggie's death.
 

OhNo!

TRIBE Member
KICK IN THE DOOR

in my all-time top ten-lyrically that is...

Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns
As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons
Get in that ass, quick fast, like ramadan
Its that rap phenomenon don-dadda, fuck poppa
You got ta, call me, francis m.h. white
In tank-light totes, tote iron
Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin
Keep extra clips for extra shit
Who’s next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap
The mo shady, tell em!, frankie baby
Ain’t 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 g’s for blow to thirty g’s a show
To orgies with hoes I never seen befo’
So, jesus, get off the notorious
Penis, before I squeeze and bust
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
Biggie, how are you gonna do it?

Chorus: repeat 4x

Kick in the door, wavin the four-four
All you heard was poppa don’t hit me no more

Verse two:

On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet
Look how dark it get, when ya marked with death
Should I start your breath should I let you die
In fear you start to cry, ask why
Lyrically, I’m worser, don’t front the word sick
You cursed it, but rehearsed it
I drop unexpectedly like bird shit
You herbs get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money
Don’t forget the publishin, I punish em, I’m done with them
Son, I’m surprised you run with them
I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothin but dicks
Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks
Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that’s sick
Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own click
Take trips to cairo, layin with yo bitch
I know you prayin you was rich, fuckin prick
When I see ya i’ma

Chorus

Verse three:

This goes out for those that choose to use
Disrespectful views on the king of ny
Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in your eye
Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it
Conscience of ya nonsense in eighty-eight
Sold more powder than johnson and johnson
Tote steel like bronson, vigilante
You wanna get on son, you need to ask me
Ain’t no other king in this rap thing
They siblings, nothing but my chil’ren
One shot, they disappearin
Its ill when, mc’s used to be on cruddy shit
Took home, ready to die, listened, studied shit
Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue
They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly
Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny
And you still recoupin, stupid *echoes*
 
tribe cannabis goldsmith - gold cannabis accessories
Top