The Ghost Of Christopher Wallace
Posted: Mon Jun 28, 2010 2:07 pm
[V 1]
The game been SMALL since B.I.G. died,
it's liable to see why he rhymed;
I aint rebirth scriptures, since the Christ in old Latin,
even I'm scared and seein' demons,
but the righteous dont panic
Murderers and crooks in the darkness,
follow you then murder you in,
a Brooklyn apartment;
I'm the ignition that's keeping the spark lit
Reflecting on my cruel and vital thoughts,
I got my magnum, and I'm having suicidal thoughts;
Jay-Z when has it been since you rocked-a-fella?
I dont need a pen, and I can still drop a record
You swear your Biggie, ya style is bitten Jay-Z;
give me a pincil, and my styles is written crazy,
Preparing to launch granades,
and getting ready to bomb the place
I swear niggaz making me feeling this old,
put me on a label and I could have a million hits sold;
came in with a machete,
started killing this whoe
Jobe is that nigga whom good at spitting this cold;
Ya supreme lyricist,
tuned in and ya keep feelin' this,
I done reaped the killin' list
I.D. for correction, I got bodyguards that I need for protection;
site sees for the next trip,
you can find me on a guesslist,
rhymin' on my next shit,
glistening diamonds on my neckless
The game been SMALL since B.I.G. died,
it's liable to see why he rhymed;
I aint rebirth scriptures, since the Christ in old Latin,
even I'm scared and seein' demons,
but the righteous dont panic
Murderers and crooks in the darkness,
follow you then murder you in,
a Brooklyn apartment;
I'm the ignition that's keeping the spark lit
Reflecting on my cruel and vital thoughts,
I got my magnum, and I'm having suicidal thoughts;
Jay-Z when has it been since you rocked-a-fella?
I dont need a pen, and I can still drop a record
You swear your Biggie, ya style is bitten Jay-Z;
give me a pincil, and my styles is written crazy,
Preparing to launch granades,
and getting ready to bomb the place
I swear niggaz making me feeling this old,
put me on a label and I could have a million hits sold;
came in with a machete,
started killing this whoe
Jobe is that nigga whom good at spitting this cold;
Ya supreme lyricist,
tuned in and ya keep feelin' this,
I done reaped the killin' list
I.D. for correction, I got bodyguards that I need for protection;
site sees for the next trip,
you can find me on a guesslist,
rhymin' on my next shit,
glistening diamonds on my neckless