Young G’s Perspective lyrics

by

The Notorious B.I.G.


[Intro: The Notorious B.I.G.]
It's some Junior Mafia sh*t right here
We just gonna set it off
We's know the deal
This sh*t is real
On this end, uh
sh*t is real on this end
No friends, J-M
(sh*t it real on this end)
sh*t is real on this end
(sh*t is real on this end)
No friends, J-M

[Verse 1: Trife]
Got into my mind, sh*t is smoked up, my sight is blind
c*ck back the nine 'cause I might not like what I find
Murders I seen, killer fiend
Through the endosheen mean burst into flying guilotine
Hennesey I sip 'til I'm ripped
Iron the gun and slip exhale hollow tips
With my pointer angle, this must be the devil's triangle
Confused, so I mangle, demons I had to strangle
Professional hitman and so they guns, multi clips
I grab my gats, c*ck, go back and let him pull it

[Verse 2: Larceny]
I said I'll rough a real b*tch, n*gga, you better back up
With the four-four devil loaded, so motherf*ckers slack up
I sh*t the raps and craps, give me my snaps
b*tches wanting the claps 'cause I'm leaving 'em with f*cking gaps
I write rhymes, the game mind, the maintain mind
The rag around my head is for the gang sign
So with the bottom lick the sha body shody
Fear nobody adolescence catching f*cking bodies
On all you b*tches, gang-bangers, snitches
I get so f*cked up I don't know, which, which, is which is
Larceny's a part of me, trifling is stifling, MC's on they ass
Two snakes in the f*cking grass, n*gga
[Interlude: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Do you know what time is is?
No friends, J-M

[Chorus: The Notorious B.I.G.]
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in b*tches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
n*ggas real protective, young G's perspective
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in b*tches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
n*ggas real protective, young G's perspective

[Verse 3: Larceny]
(Larceny) The dirty trigger n*gga, f*ck the looking good sh*t
I rather grab my gat, c*ck bullsh*t
Heat I keep when I creep
Using the Snake intellect to catch wreck and count them greens
A n*gga drops, I wish it was the cops
sh*t is hot, got the motherf*cking block locked

[Verse 4: Trife]
Wicked creator, life eliminator
Continue to sin you, murder's on the menu
Which get in you, meet the boom on the stab wound
Blood harvester tomb catch a body every full moon
MC's with temptation, death by asphyxiation
Snake relation like proper damn nation
Since birth on this scortched dirt
Badness with the lyricals pocket full of miracles
I'm sick, and sick of being tired
Ain't a soul I fear, too tired to care
At sunrise to let my tempature rise
Eagle eyes, don't believe in me, believe your eyes
Should I cry? Cause I wet a n*gga then he die
Go c*ck my line, roll up and get high
[Chorus: The Notorious B.I.G.]
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in b*tches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
n*ggas real protective, young G's perspective
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in b*tches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
n*ggas real protective, young G's perspective

[Verse 5: DSP]
I cause dirty bodies and bloodclots, very busses and buck shots
c*ck gluts and run the block, n*ggas who clean they clucks
n*ggas can see me nots, let it get hot
Murder mo' n*ggas and got a longer wrap sheet than mets and cot
Because I only get drastic so who has the black plastic
Specs in the back with all the caskets
Who can be mo killa? Blood spilla, clips with hollow points
So when a n*gga slips he sh*ts like he's got salmonela
Danger approaches, checking for who gets closest
You're closest to get my focus, smoke these rookies like roaches
Who can cause more terror than this like a full terrorist
Breaking n*ggas like matches, broken b*tches appoaches
And you know this n*gga let's it increase
With mo' heat than a heater 'specialy when I got my milimeter
Burning up these n*ggas like VD, these n*ggas try to see me
Now I'm making benders like Houdini
[Chorus: The Notorious B.I.G.]
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in b*tches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
n*ggas real protective, young G's perspective
(What you want?) The keys, G-S 3's, the papes
Bustin' in b*tches making their periods late
Cleaning out cribs, coke crums off the plate
n*ggas real protective, young G's perspective

[Outro: The Notorious B.I.G.]
No doubt, no doubt
The Bay Area meets Bedstuy
Black Jack
Junior M.A.F.I.A
Frank White is the f*cker
Keeping it real for the 9-6 until, uh
Yeah, no friends, J-M
Uh, no friends, J-M
I need a Black Jack
Uh, no friends, J-M
Uh, The Snakes
No friends, J-M, uh
No friends, J-M, uh
Uh, No friends J-M
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