Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Living the Life , by - The Notorious B.I.G.. Release date: 12.12.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Living the Life |
| To my motherfuckin' man, fifty grand, the alcholic man |
| Inject a tall can in his blood stream if he can |
| Biggie Smalls, the pussy stroker |
| Emcee provoker, the chocolate tah smoker (huh?) |
| I like to mack in Maximas and Acuras |
| Your girl 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 it up |
| Ask the hooker, If I didn’t jug 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 niggas on that real blood spill shit |
| My rappin' tactics, are drastic |
| Stretchin' motherfuckers like Mr. Fantastic |
| So if you wanna see my Pedigree, you better be |
| Filled with energy, niggas never gettin' me |
| + (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 |
| It’s clear to see that I’m the motherfuckin' man, I done learned from the |
| Best of em; |
| Took the first slot, niggas still second guessin' em |
| Hoes, I’m undressin' em', foes, I’m not stresin' em' |
| Outlastin' a bunch of 'em, outflowed the rest of em' |
| Cuz everyday, I stay preachin' on the pulpit |
| So tell them haters they could miss me with that bullshit |
| 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 niggas 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 |
| + (Ludacris ab-libbing) |
| 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 on (?) |
| Used to be a G, but now he just a ho |
| Runnin' 'round poitin' fingers, tellin' names |
| You fuckin' up the rules to this dirty game, and 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, what’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 hat’s a stain on a nigga, I bang on a nigga |
| Kick rocks and watch how I do my thang, young nigga; |
| I’m livin' the life! |
| + (Snoop Dogg ab-libbing) |
| — w/o ab-libs |