Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Victory, artist - Puff Daddy. Date of issue: 11.08.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Victory |
| Intro: Notorious B.I.G. |
| One, one two |
| Check me out right here, yo Verse One: Puff Daddy |
| Yo, the sun don’t shine forever |
| (BIG: You can turn the track up a little bit for me) |
| Turn me up yo |
| Can you here me? |
| But as long as it’s here then we might as well shine together |
| (BIG: All up in my ears) |
| Better now than never, business before pleasure |
| (BIG: The mic is loud, but the beats isn’t loud) |
| P-Diddy and the Fam, who you know do it better? |
| Yeah right, no matter what, we air tight |
| (BIG: YEAH!) |
| So when you hear somethin, make sure you hear it right |
| Don’t make a ass outta yourself, by assumin |
| (BIG: YEAH! Now the mic is lower, turn the mics up) |
| Our music keeps you movin, what are you provin? |
| (BIG: Turn that shit all the way up, yeah) |
| You know that I’m two levels above you baby |
| (BIG: Music’s gettin louder) |
| Hug me baby, I’ma make you love me baby |
| (BIG: This shit is hot!) |
| Talkin crazy ain’t gonna get you nuthin but choked |
| (BIG: Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh) |
| And that jealousy is only gonna leave you broke |
| So the only thing left now is God for these cats |
| And BIG you know you too hard for these cats |
| I’m a win cause I’m too smart for these cats |
| While they makin up facts (uhh) you rakin up plats |
| Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G. |
| In a Commision, you ask for permission to hit em He don’t like me, him and wild wifey was wit em You heard of us, the murderous, most shady |
| Been on the low lately, the feds hate me The son of satan |
| They say my killin’s too blatant |
| You hesitatin, I’m in your mama crib waitin |
| Duct tapin, your fam destiny |
| lays in my hands, gat lays in my waist |
| Francis, M to the iz-H phenominal |
| Gun rest under your vest by the abdominal |
| Rob a few bars so I can buy a few cars |
| And I kick a few flows so I can pimp a few hoes |
| Excellence is my presence, never tense |
| Never hesitant, leave a nigga bent real quick |
| Real sick, brawl nights, I perform like Mike |
| Anyone -- Tyson, Jordan, Jackson |
| action, pack guns, ridiculous |
| And I’m, quick to bust, if my ends you touch |
| Kids or girl you touch, in this world I clutch |
| Two auto-matoes, used to call me fatso |
| Now you call me Castro, my rap flows |
| militant, y’all faggots ain’t killin shit |
| Ooops Cristal keep spillin shit, you overdid it homes |
| You in the danger zone, you shouldn’t be alone |
| Hold hands and say it like me The most shady, Frankie baby, fantastic |
| Graphic, tryin to make dough, like Jurassic |
| Parked in quick to spark kids who start shit |
| See me, only me The Underboss of this holocaust |
| Truly yours, Frank White |
| Chorus: Busta Rhymes |
| We got the real live shit from front to back |
| To my people in the world, where the fuck you at? |
| Where my niggaz is at? |
| (2X) |
| Where the fuck my bitches at? |
| Where my bitches is at? |
| (repeat all 2X) |
| Verse Three: Puff Daddy |
| Put your money on the table and get your math on Break it down, split it up, get your laugh on See you later Dog, I'ma get my stash on There's a bed full of money that I get my ass on I never lose |
| the passion to go platinum |
| Said I’d live it up til all the cash gone |
| Ain’t that funny, only use plastic, craft it to make classics, hotter than acid |
| P-D, rollin on your tape or CD |
| The Billboard killa, no team illa |
| The Fam-o, ammo, is every channel |
| We been hot for a long time burnin like a candle |
| What you can do is check your distribution |
| My songs bump in Houston like Scarface produced em You ain’t gotta like me, you just mad |
| Cause I tell it how it is, and you tell it how it might be Verse Four: Notorious B.I.G. |
| We got the shit, Mac tight, brass knuckles and flashlights |
| The heaers in the two-seaters, with two midas |
| Senoritas, kiss rings when you meet us P-Diddy run the city, show no pity |
| I’m the witty one, Frank’s the crook from the Brook' |
| Matty broke the neck of your coke connect |
| No respect squeeze off til all y’all diminish |
| Shootouts for twenty minutes, until we finish |
| Venice took the loot, escaped, in the Coupe |
| Break bread, with the kiss, Peniro, sheek loops |
| Black Rob joined the mob, it ain’t no replacin him |
| Niggaz step up, we just macin them |
| placin them in funerals, criminals turned aroused |
| The Brick City, nobody come off like P-Diddy |
| Business rise, I play men |
| Hide money on the Island Cayman, y’all just betray men |
| You screamin, I position, competition |
| Nother day in the life of the Comission |
| Chorus 2X w/ Puff talking |
| Aiyyo, can you hear me out there? |
| Aiyyo turn me up, nobody can hear me out there |
| That’s good, it’s all fucked up now |
| Y’all know it’s all fucked up now right? |
| What the fuck y’all gonna do now? |
| What I’ma do now? |
| Can y’all hear me out there? |
| Can y’all hear me out there? |
| (?) Fuck y’all niggaz wanna do It’s all fucked up now |
| What I’ma do now, huh? |
| What I’ma do now |
| It’s all fucked up now |