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

Who y’all talkin' to, man?

Uhh, 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

I kicked flows for ya, kicked down doors for ya

Even left all my motherfuckin' hoes for ya

Niggas think Frankie pussy-whipped

Nigga, picture that, with a Kodak, Insta-ma-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, if she trippin', disappearin' like Arsenio

Yo, the bitch push a double-oh

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 the shit’s legit

She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks

Nigga tricked 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 home-grown»

Then I heard the moan, «Honey, I’m home!»

Yep, 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 cocks 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

Play 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 Gs 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», uhh…

Yo man, y’all niggas ain’t gonna believe what the fuck happened to me.

Remember that bitch I left the club with man?

Yo, freaky yo.

I’m up in this

bitch playa this bitch fuckin' run them ol' Knick ass niggas and shit.

I’m up in the spot, so.

I don’t know, I don’t know.

One of them six-five

niggas, I don’t know.

Anyway, I’m up in the motherfuckin' spot.

So boom I’m up

in the pussy, whatever whatever.

I sparks up some lah, Pop Duke creeps up in on

some, must have been rained out or something because he’s in the spot.

Had me scared, had me scared to death, I was shook, Daddy—but I forget I had

my Roscoe on me.

Always.

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.

She gettin' mad nervous,

I said fuck that man!

I’m the nigga, you know how we do it, nigga,

ransom note style put the scarf around my motherfuckin' face.

Gagged that

bitch up, played the kizzack.

Soon this nigga comes up in the spot,

flash the Desert in his face he drops the glass.

Looked like the nigga pissed

on his-self or somethin, word to mother!

Ahh fuck it.

This nigga runs dead to

the floor, peels up the carpet, start givin' me mad papers, mad papers.

(I told you that bitch was a sheisty bitch cuz! Word to mother I used to fuck

her cousin' but you ain’t know that!

You wouldn’t know that shit.

Really though.

) I threw all that motherfuckin' money up in the Prada knapsack.

Two words, I’m gone!

(No doubt, no doubt… no doubt!) Yo nigga got some lye,

y’all got some lye?