TURE PLAYA, just take a look at the lyrics, says it all
Uhh, I'm intrrupted by a phone ring {*brrrrring*}
Sometimes I wish I never got the motherfuckin thing
"Hello hello? Can I speak to Biggie?"
Yo who dis? "Taisha" Yo call back, I'm busy
we luv u big poppa, well i do anyways.
Uhh, I'm intrrupted by a phone ring {*brrrrring*}
Sometimes I wish I never got the motherfuckin thing
"Hello hello? Can I speak to Biggie?"
Yo who dis? "Taisha" Yo call back, I'm busy
we luv u big poppa, well i do anyways.
by manny January 29, 2004
From Automotive Reference and the drift world
If the owner of a motor vehicle doesn’t care for the car and / or the consequences of how he modifies the vehicle both in the sense of law enforcement and practical use of the motor vehicle
If the owner of a motor vehicle doesn’t care for the car and / or the consequences of how he modifies the vehicle both in the sense of law enforcement and practical use of the motor vehicle
by Fours n more November 8, 2010
by derloopkat March 31, 2016
by Jennifer January 9, 2003
I got seven Mack 11's, about eight 38's
Nine 9's, ten mack tens, the shits never ends
You can't touch my riches
Even if you had MC Hammer and them 357 bitches
Biggie Smalls; the millionare, the mansion, the yacht
The two weed spots, the two hot glocks
That's how I got the weed spot
I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the lamb spread
Little Gotti got the shotty to your body
So don't resist, or you might miss Christmas
I tote guns, I make number runs
I give mc's the runs drippin
when I throw my clip in the AK, I slay from far away
Everybody hit the D-E-C-K
My slow flow's remarkable, peace to Matteo
Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniffed the yeyo
That's crazy blunts, mad L's
My voice excels from the avenue to jail cells
Oh my God, I'm droppin shit like a pigeon
I hope you're listenin, smackin babies at they christening
Nine 9's, ten mack tens, the shits never ends
You can't touch my riches
Even if you had MC Hammer and them 357 bitches
Biggie Smalls; the millionare, the mansion, the yacht
The two weed spots, the two hot glocks
That's how I got the weed spot
I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the lamb spread
Little Gotti got the shotty to your body
So don't resist, or you might miss Christmas
I tote guns, I make number runs
I give mc's the runs drippin
when I throw my clip in the AK, I slay from far away
Everybody hit the D-E-C-K
My slow flow's remarkable, peace to Matteo
Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniffed the yeyo
That's crazy blunts, mad L's
My voice excels from the avenue to jail cells
Oh my God, I'm droppin shit like a pigeon
I hope you're listenin, smackin babies at they christening
by dshfoingvnfd June 12, 2005
A God trapped in a mans body. That God happened to be Buddah, but the best fucking flowing rapper ever.
by Travis Johnson June 21, 2003
The funny fat nigga that makes the teacher and the students laugh at the same MFing time. Yea he fat but he still pull hoes!!
by Biggy.Poppa March 16, 2015