Hold up
Son them niggas know who hit that nigga son (I know, I know)
They – how the fuck, we gon’ know who hit him, and they don’t know who hit him?
The hood talking man, everybody know! (I know, it’s fucked up)

Now I lay thee down to sleep
Niggas try and lay me down with heat
And if I should die though before I awake
I pray my Lord my soul to take

If dead men could talk in your sleep your homey told you who got him
Would you have the heart to shoot the nigga that shot him? (Huh?)
Or would you start switching up
You thinking ’bout the penitentiary and bitching up?
What if he said money ain’t everything, the hood raised us wrong
All jux’ll get your money long but look here I’m gone
Would that touch your heart? Have you feeling funny inside?
Would that be enough to make your punk-ass ride?
What if he gave you a little list of things to do?
Said he wouldn’t have to die, he could live through you
Would you load the gats, and get ready to ride
Or would you lock the door at yo’ crib and hide?
It’s a cold world even when it’s hot outside
Whether sunshine or rain, you still feel pain
Hit him ’cause he was your strength, now you in a daze
Your homey turning over in his grave… ’cause you pussy!

“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up with the lugers from they Rugers or they Desert”
(Right!)
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up with the lugers from they Rugers or they Desert”
(Right!)

Them boys smoked your homey, ye ain’t gon’ do nothing back?
Not even if he told you you next to get clapped?
It don’t take much for them shells to make the best of you
Your peoples gon’ probably cremate and burn the rest of you
You done did too much dirt to try and make it to heaven
Nigga is you down for this 1-8-7?
When you reach the pearly gates, how you gon’ explain
You gon’ try and tell God you’ve been framed?
Y’all did everything together, he was your dog
Now you Uptown copping, and he in the morgue
Them niggas he gave packs to, they kept the cake
His sister and his baby momma talking to Jake (uh-huh)
Niggas that rocked him, they came to the wake
But they ain’t come inside, they sat out in the ride
At the funeral, homicide all in the business
Walking ’round asking niggas to tell ’em who did it
Niggas is throwing blows now you ready to rumble?
Thirsty niggas are animals, the hood is a jungle
Broke nigga’ll body something over a bundle
Man a three-year-old kid in my hood know what a gun do

“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up with the lugers from they Rugers or they Desert”
(Right!)
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up” – B.I.G.
“Y’all know who killed ’em, filled up with the lugers from they Rugers or they Desert”
(Right!)

Sha Money, XL!
Shadyville, teamwork, music