Текст (слова) песни: Notorious B. I. G. - Somebody`s Gotta Die

 
[Verse One] 
I`m sittin in the crib dreamin about Leer jets and coupes 
The way Salt shoops and how they sell records like Snoop 
Oops! 
I`m interrupted by a doorbell 
3:52, who the hell 
Is this? 
I gets up quick 
Cocks my shit 
Stop the dogs from barkin 
Then proceed to walkin 
Its a face that I seen before 
My nigga Sing, we used to sling on the 16th floor 
Check it 
I look deeper 
I see blood up on his sneakers 
And his fist gripped a chrome four-fifth 
So I dip 
Nigga, is you creepin or speakin? 
He tells me C-Rock just got hit up at the beacon 
I opens up the door, pitiful 
Is he in critical? 
Retaliation for this one won`t be minimal 
Cuz I`m a criminal 
Way before the rap shit 
Bust the gat shit 
Puff won`t even know what happened, 
If it`s done smoothly 
Silencers on the Uzi 
Stash in the hooptie 
My alibi, any cutie 
With a booty that done fuck the Pop 
Head spinnin, reminiscin bout my man C-Rock 
 
Chorus: repeat 2X 
 
Somebody`s got ta die 
If I got, you got ta go 
Somebody`s got to die 
Let the gunshots blow 
Somebody`s got to die 
Nobody got ta know 
That I killed yo ass in the mist, kid 
 
[Verse Two] 
Fillin clips he explained our situation 
Precisely, so we know exactly what we facin 
Some kid named Jason 
In a Honda station wagon 
Was braggin 
About how much loot and crack he stackin 
Rock had a grip so they formed up a clique 
Small crew 
`Round the time I was locked up with you 
True indeed 
But yo nigga let me proceed 
Don`t fill them clips too high 
Give them bullets room to breathe 
Damn where was I? 
Yeah 
One night in town 
Blew the fuck up 
D-Rock went home 
And Jay got stuck the fuck up 
Hit `em twice 
Got `em right for the virgin white 
Pistol whipped his kids 
And taped up his wife 
He said "Yo Rock, set em up", no question 
Wet em up no less 
Than 50 shots in his direction 
How many shots? 
Man nigga, I seen mad holes 
What kinda gats? 
Hitch links, Cocks, and Calicoles 
But fuck that 
I know where all them niggas rest at 
In the buildin hustlin 
And they don`t be strapped 
Supreme in black 
Is downstairs, the engine runnin 
Find a bag to put the guns in 
And c`mon if yo comin 
 
Chorus 
 
[Verse Three] 
Exchanged hugs and pounds before the throw down 
How its gonna go down 
Lay these niggas low-down 
Slow down 
Fuck all that plannin shit 
Run up in they cribs 
And make em catch the man n shit 
See niggas like you do ten year bids 
Miss the niggas they want 
And murder innocent kids 
Not I 
One niggas in my eye 
That`s Jason 
Ain`t no slugs gonna be wasted 
Revenge I`m tastin at the tip of my lips 
I can`t wait to feel my clip in his hips 
Pass the chocolate 
Thai 
Sing ain`t lie 
There`s Jason with his back to me 
Talkin to his faculty 
I start to get a funny feelins 
Put the mask on in case his niggas start squealin 
Scream his name out 
Squeeze six knuckles shorter 
Nigga turned around holdin his daughter
 

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