(feat. Bobby Valentino, Faith Evans, Ludacris)



[Notorious B.I.G (Faith Evans)]

To my motherfuckin' man, fifty grand, the alcholic man

Inject a tall can to his blood stream, if he can

Biggie Smalls, the pussy stroker

Emcee prover, the chocolate tah smoker (huh?)

I like to mack in Maximas and Acuras

Your girl`s butt cheeks, I'm smackin' (huh?)

The raw rapper, spot smacker

Wit the lil hooker on my lap-ah, you know your favorite macker

A shy nigga, but I ain't ya fuckin' comforter

And If I ever fall in love, I better fuck wit her

Ask the hooker, If I didn't juk her

She try to front, then I put the Chucky Booker on her

(Why you wanna...play games on me?)

Bitch, you crazy? Commitments, I'm Swayze

No time for the ill shit

Mess with the niggaz on that real blood spill shit

My rappin' tactics, are drastic

Stretch these motherfuckers like Mr. Fantastic

So if you wanna see my Pedigree,

You better be filled with energy

Niggaz never gettin' me



[Chorus x2: Bobby Valentino and Faith Evans + Ludacris ab-libbing]

Big cities and bright lights

Short days and long nights

No stress and no strife

I'm high off living the life



[Ludacris:]

It's clear to see that I'm the motherfuckin' man,

I done learned from the best of em; 

Took the first slot, niggaz still second guessin' em

Hoes, I'm undressin' em', foes, I'm not stressin' em'

Outlastin' a bunch of 'em , outflaw'd the rest of em'

Cuz everyday, I stay preachin' on the pulpit

So tell them haters they could miss me with that bull-shit

But I won't miss, I'm Luda, the heat holder

I'm rich, bitch! I've done more shows than Oprah

And I'm a soldier, ready for whatever

Roll with a bunch of niggaz that don't know no better

King like Coretta, countin' mo' cheddar

Just hired two dykes to be my ho getters

When it comes to these women, dog, ain't no one fuckin' wit me

They runnin' back, you think I had TJ Duckett wit me

That's cause I throw it like Vick, from the yard line

Menage a trois, it's safe to say I'm havin' hard times



[Chorus: Ludacris ab-libbing]



[Snoop Dogg:]

To my nigga Chopper dot, with the whoopty-whop on the block

Got the heaters cocked, cause I know the suckers on the block

Hennesey and Belve-D, brings a lot of jealousy

Nigga stop snitchin', nephew, why you tellin' me?

They say the game ain't what it use to be no more

He used to be a G, but now he just a ho

Runnin' 'round poitin' fingers, tellin' names (snitch)

You fuckin' up the rules to this dirty game, it's a diry shame

I ain't flippin' out, that's probably why I'm dippin' out

Ya'll fools trippin' out, that why I'm on a different route

Now, makin' money, havin' clout, that's what it's all about

Twenty seven cars and a tweleve bedroom house

Now they call me Snoopy Trump

I keep my heater close, cause I love to bust

Now I susstain on a nigga, I bang on a nigga

Kick rocks and watch how I do my thang, young nigga; I'm livin' the life!



[Chorus: Snoop Dogg ab-libbing]



[Chorus: w/o ab-libs]