At one point in this song Puffy says “Ten years from now we’ll still be on top.” And he was right except for the “we” part. Biggie died and I don’t think there is anyone buying clothes that Ma$e’s company is putting out. So really, when you take everyone from that whole crew and examine them it is pretty safe to say that Puffy is the only one who did anything. So, is that enough evidence for me to determine that Puff Daddy killed Biggie Smalls? Why not? You aren’t the one trying to come up with a Rap-based table top game are you?
Are you??? Because if you are you stole my idea so step off.
Anyway, like most of my theories, this one is fool proof as long as you don’t apply much thought to it at all. So breeze by my hypothetical solving of the murder of the Notorious B.I.G. and and wonder why they cut the video up so much to put it on YouTube. Makes no sense to me that that would put radio edits on a site where everyone swears all day. I don’t get it. Oh, and extra points if you remember what happened in popular culture that made the beginning of the video topical. And extra EXTRA points if you can name another video that features folks in super shiny track suits dancing in front of a fish eye lens. The guy who invented that got steady work for like, three years straight! Lyrics and video after the jump.
Now, who’s hot, who not?
Tell me who rock, who sell out in the stores?
You tell me who flopped, who copped the blue drop?
Whose jewels got rocks, who’s mostly Dolce down
To the tube sock? The same old pimp
Mase, you know ain’t nothing change but my limp
Can’t stop till I see my name on a blimp
Guarantee a million sales call it level up
You don’t believe in Harlem World, nigga, double up
We don’t play around, it’s a bet, lay it down
Niggas didn’t know me 91, bet they know me now
I’m the young Harlem nigga with the goldie sound
Can’t no Ph.D. niggas hold me down
Cudda schooled me to the game, now I know my duty
Stay humble, stay low, blow like Hootie
True pimp niggas spend no dough on the booty
And when you yell, “there go Mase!” there go your cutie
I don’t know what they want from me
It’s like the more money we come across
The more problems we see
[Verse 2: Puff Daddy]
I’m the D to the A to the D-D-Y
Know you’d rather see me die than to see me fly
I call all the shots
Rip all the spots, rock all the rocks, cop all the drops
I know you thinking now when all the balling stops
Nigga never home, gotta call me on the yacht
10 years from now we’ll still be on top
Yo, I thought I told you that we won’t stop
Now what you gon’ do with a crew
That got money much longer than yours
And a team much stronger than yours
Violate me, this’ll be your day, we don’t play
Mess around, be D.O.A, be on your way
Cause it ain’t enough time here
Ain’t enough lime here for you to shine here
Deal with many women but treat dimes fair
And I’m bigger than the city lights down in Times Square
[Verse 3: Notorious B.I.G.]
No info for the DEA
Federal agents mad cause I’m flagrant
Tap my cell and the phone in the basement
My team supreme, stay clean
Triple beam lyrical dream, I be that
Cat you see at all events bent
Gats in holsters, girls on shoulders
Playboy, I told ya, mere mics to me
Bruise too much, I lose too much
Step on stage, the girls boo too much
I guess it’s cause you run with lame dudes too much
Me lose my touch? Never that!
If I did, ain’t no problem to get the Gat
Where the true players at?
Throw your Rolies in the sky
Wave ’em side to side and keep your hands high
While I give your girl the eye
Player, please, lyrically, niggas see B.I.G
Be flossing, jig on the cover of Fortune, 5 double O
Here’s my phone number, your man ain’t got to know
I got the dough, got the flow down pizat
Platinum plus like thizat
Dangerous on trizacks
Leave your ass flizat