Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Niggas Bleed, artist - The Notorious B.I.G.. Date of issue: 03.03.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Niggas Bleed |
| Today’s agenda, got the suitcase up in the Sentra |
| Go to room 112, tell em Blanco sent ya Feel the strangest, if no money exchanges |
| I got these kids in ranges, believe them niggaz brainless |
| All they tote is stainless, you just remain as calm as possible, make the deal go through |
| If not, here’s 12 shots, we know how you do Please make yo killings clean, slugs up in between |
| They eyes, like True Lies, Kill em and flee the scene |
| Just bring back the coke or the cream |
| Or else, yo life is on the shelf, we mean this Frank |
| Them cats we fuckin wit put bombs in yo moms gas tank |
| Let’s get this money baby, they shady, we get shady |
| Dress up like ladies and burn em with thirty-three-eighties |
| Then they come to kill our babies, that’s all out |
| I got gats that blow the wall out, clear the mall out |
| Fuck the fallout, word to Stretch, I bet they pussy |
| The seven digits push me, fuckin real, here’s the deal |
| I got a hundred bricks, fourteen-five a piece |
| Enough to cop a six buy the house on the beach |
| Supply the peeps with Jeeps, brick apiece, capiche? |
| Everybody gettin cream no one considered them leech |
| Think about it now, thats damn near one point five |
| I kill em all I’ll be set for life Frank pay attention |
| These motherfuckers is henchmen, renegades |
| If you die they still get paid, extra probably |
| Fuck a robbery, I’m the boss |
| Promise you won’t rob em, I promise |
| But of course you know I had my fingers crossed |
| Niggaz bleed just like us Picture me bein scared |
| of a nigga that breathe the same air as me Niggaz bleed just like us Picture me bein shook |
| We can both pull burners, make the motherfuckin beef cook |
| Niggaz bleed just like us Picture a nigga high |
| Then my life in that man hands, while he just decidin |
| Niggaz bleed just like us |
| I’d rather go toe to toe with all of y’all |
| Runnin ain’t in my protocol |
| Since it’s on, I call my nigga Arizona Ron |
| From Tuscon, pushed the black Yukon |
| Usually had the slow grooves on, mostly rock the Isley |
| Stupid as a young’un, chose not the moves wisely |
| Sharper with game, him and his crooks, called The Jooks |
| Heard it was sweet, bout three-fifty a piece |
| Ron bought a truck, two bricks laid in the cut |
| His peeps got bucked, got locked the fuck up That’s when Ron vanished, came back, speakin Spanish |
| Lavish habits, two rings, twenty carats |
| Here’s a criminal, nigga made America’s Most |
| Killed his baby mother brother, slit his throat |
| The nigga got bagged with the toast |
| Weeded, took it to trial, beat it Now he feel he undefeated, he mean it Nothing to lose, tattooed around his gun wounds |
| Heavy in the game, embedded in his brain |
| And me I feel the same for this money and diamonds |
| Specially if my daughter cryin, I ain’t lyin |
| Y’all know the signs |
| We agreed to go on shootin is silly |
| Because niggaz could be hidin in showers with Mac Billy’s |
| So I freaked em, the telly manager was Puerto Rican |
| Gloria, from Historia, I went to war with her |
| peeps in ninety-one, stole a gun from her workers |
| And they took drugs, they tried to jerk us We blaze they place, long story, Glo seen my face |
| Got shook, thought a nigga was comin for the safe |
| Now she breakin, shut up, 112, what’s shakin |
| A Jamaican, some bitches I swear, they look gay |
| In a black Range Rover, been outside all day |
| If it’s trouble let me know, I’ll be on my way |
| Please, I got kids to feed, I done seen you make niggaz bleed |
| Nightmare, this bitch don’t need it Ron, get the gasoline, this spot, we bout to blow this |
| Lets get the cash before the cops and Range Rover cats notice |
| Room 112, right by the staircase, perfect place |
| When they evacuate, they meet they fate |
| Ron pass the gasoline, the nigga pass me kerosene |
| Fuck it, its flame-able, my hunger is unexplainable |
| Strike the match, just what I expected |
| The dread kid ejected in seconds |
| And here come two, opposite sexes, one black, one Malaysian |
| We in the hallway waitin patient |
| As soon as she hit the door we start blastin |
| I saw her brains hit the floor, Ron laughin, I swear to God |
| I hit Maxi Priest at least twelve times in the chest |
| Spin-t around, shot the chink in the breast |
| She cryin, headshots put her to rest |
| Pop open the briefcases, nothin but Franco faces |
| The spot’s hot, sprinklers, alarm systems |
| Thats when other guests start to slip in It’s time for us to get to dippin |
| I know them niggaz in the Range is on they way up Flippin, pistol grippin, I know they clippin |
| The hallway, got real loud and crowded |
| They walked right past us, I don’t know how they allowed it The funny thing about it, through all the excitement |
| They Range got towed, they double parked by a hydrant |
| Stupid motherfuckers |