I Got a Story to Tell
I Got a Story to Tell

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

Hip-Hop/Rap
Mar 4, 1997
35
I Got a Story to Tell Music Video

I Got a Story to Tell Lyrics

Who y'all talking to man?
Uh
Check it out, check it out
This here goes out o all the niggas that be fucking mad bitches
In other niggas cribs
Thinkin' shit is sweet
Nigga creep up on your ass, haha
Live niggas respect it, check it

I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya
Even left all my motherfucking hoes for ya
Niggas think Frankie pussy whipped, nigga picture that
With a Kodak, Insta-ma-tak
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 it if she trippin' disappearing like Arsenio
Yo, the bitch push a double-oh
With the five in front, probably a conniving stunt
Y'all drive in front, I'm a peel with her
Find a deal with her, she fuck around and steal, huh?
Then we all get laced
Televisions, Versace heaven, when I'm up in them
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 against the Utah Jazz
My 112, CD blast, I was past
She came twice, I came last, roll the grass
She giggle, sayin', "I'm smoking on homegrown"
Then I heard her moan, "Honey I'm home"
Yup, 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 fist 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, uh
Before my eyes could blink, she screams out
"Honey bring me up somethin' to drink"
He go back downstairs more time to think
My brain racin', she's tellin' 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 lookin' 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 G's 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" uh, uh

Yo man, y'all niggas ain't gon' believe what the fuck happened to me
Remember that bitch I left the club with, man?
Yeah
Yo, sticky, yo
I'm up in this bitch crib
This bitch fucking one of them ol' Knick ass niggas and shit
I'm up in the spot, so you know (who cuz?)
I don't know, I don't know which one?
One of them six-five niggas, I don't know
Yeah
Anyway I'm up in the motherfucking spot, so boom I'm up in the pussy, whatever whatever
I sparks up some lye, Pop Duke creeps up in on some
Get the fuck out
Must have been rained out or something
He comes up in the spot
Had me scared, had me scared to death, I was shook Daddy
But I forgot I had my Roscoe on me
Always, you know how we do
So boom the nigga comes up the stairs, he creeping up the steps
The bitch all shook she sends the nigga back downstairs to get some drinks and shit
Shit gettin' mad nervous, I said fuck that man (I know you was ready to clap him)
Man nigga, you know how we do it nigga
Ransom note style put the scarf around my motherfucking face
Gagged that bitch up, played the kizzack
Soon as this nigga comes up in the spot
Flash the Desert in his face, he drops the glass
Looked like the nigga pissed on himself or somethin', word to my mother
Motherfucker, this nigga runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet
Start giving me mad paper (oh shit)
Mad paper
Yo, I told you that bitch was a shiesty bitch, cuz
Word to mother I used to fuck with her cousin but you ain't know that
Hahaha
You wouldn't know that shit
Really though
I put all that motherfucking money up in the Prada knapsack
And uh, two words, I'm gone
No doubt, no doubt
Yo nigga, you got some loud? Y'all got some loud?
No doubt
Yo, you got that dust, baby?
The other day was a good day for you, baby

Writer(s): Anthony Best, Christopher Wallace, Sean Puffy Combs, Carl E. Thompson
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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