The Notorious B.I.G. — I Got a Story to Tell

[Intro] Who y'all talkin' to, man? Ugh Check it out, check it out This here goes out to all the niggas that be fuckin' mad bitches In other niggas' cribs Thinkin' shit is sweet Nigga creep up on your ass, hahaha Live niggas respect it—check it [Verse] I kicked flows for you, kicked down doors for you Even left all my motherfuckin' hoes for you Niggas think Frankie pussy-whipped Nigga, picture that, with a Kodak, Insta-mat-tac We don't get down like that, lay my game down quite flat "Sweetness, where you parked at?" Petiteness, but that ass fat She got a body make a nigga wanna eat that— I'm fuckin' with you The bitch official, though; dick harder than a missile, yo Try to hit it, if she trippin', disappearin' like Arsenio Yo, the bitch push a double-O with the five in front Probably a conniving stunt Y'all drive in front, I'ma peel with her Find the deal with her, she fuck around and steal, huh? Then we all get laced Televisions, Versace heaven, when I'm up in 'em The shit she kicked—all that shit's legit She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks Nigga trick ridiculous, the shit was plush She's stressing me to fuck, like she was in a rush We fucked in his bed, quite dangerous I'm in his ass while he playing 'gainst the Utah Jazz My 112 CD blast, I was past She came twice, I came last, roll the grass She giggle, saying, "I'm smoking on homegrown" Then I heard a moan, "Honey, I'm home!" Yup, tote chrome for situations like this I'm up in his broad, I know he won't like this Now I'm, like, "Bitch, you better talk to him Before this fifth put a spark to him Fuck around, shit get dark to him, put a part through him Lose a major part to him—arm, leg..." She beggin' me to stop, but this cat gettin' closer Gettin' hot like a toaster, I cock the toast, ugh Before my eyes could blink She screams out, "Honey, bring me up somethin' to drink!" He go back downstairs, more time to think Her brain racing, she's telling me to stay patient She don't know I'm cool as a fan Gat in hand, I don't wanna blast her man But I can and I will, though; I'm tryna chill, though Even though situation looking kinda ill, yo It came to me like a song I wrote Told the bitch, "Gimme your scarf, pillowcase, and rope" Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face Roped the bitch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase Played the cut, nigga coming off some Love Potion shit Flash the heat on 'em, he stood emotionless Dropped the glass, screaming, "Don't blast, here's the stash! A hundred cash! Just don't shoot my ass, please!" Nigga pulling mad G's out the floor Put stacks in a Prada knapsack, hit the door Grab the keys to the Five, call my niggas on the cell "Bring some weed, I got a story to tell," ugh, ugh [Outro] "Yo, man, y'all niggas ain't gon' believe what the fuck happened to me. 'Member that bitch I left the club with, man?" "Yeah." "Yo, stinky, yo. I'm up in this bitch crib—this bitch fuck with one of them ol' Knick-ass niggas and shit. I'm up in the spot, so, you know—" "Who, God?" "I don't know, I don't know which one of them niggas. One of them six-five niggas, I don't know." "Yeah." "Anyway, I'm up in the motherfuckin' spot. So, boom, I'm up in the pussy, whatever-whatever. I sparks up some lah, Pa Duke creeps up in on some..." "Get the fuck out!" "Must have been rained out or something, because he's in the spot." "Get the fuck out of here! Oh, shit!" "Had me scared, had me scared to death! I was shook, Daddy. But I forget I had my Roscoe on me." "Ah, yeah, I know you had the heat!" "Always." "Hahahaha." "You know how we do. So anyway, the nigga comes up the stairs, he creepin' up the steps. The bitch all shook—she sends the nigga back downstairs to get some drinks and shit." "Ooh, shit!" "She gettin' mad nervous. But I said, 'Fuck that man! I'm the nigga!'" "I know you was finna clap 'em." Yeah, nigga. You know how we do it, nigga—ransom note-style. Put the scarf around my motherfuckin' face "Aight!" "Gagged that bitch up, and played the cizzut." "Ahahaha!" "Soon as this nigga comes up in the spot, I flash the Desert in his face. He drops the glass. Looked like the nigga pissed on his damn self or somethin, word to my mother! Word to my mother, yo." "Ah, shit!" "This nigga runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet, start givin' me mad papers. Mad papers." "Oh, shit, what? Yo, I told you that bitch was a scheisty bitch, cuz! Word to mother, I used to fuck with her cousin, but you ain't know that!" "Hahaha." "You ain't even know that shit! Really, though." "I put all that motherfuckin' money up in the Prada knapsack, and, ugh! Two words: 'I'm gone!'" "Hahahaha! No doubt, no doubt... No doubt!" "Y'all niggas got some lah? Y'all got some lah?" "No doubt!" [Produced by Buckwild and Chucky Thompson]