Текст песни Notorious B. I. G. - Party And Bullshit
Notorious B. I. G. - Party And Bullshit слова песни
I was a terror since the public school eraBathroom passes, cuttin classes, squeezing assesSmoking blunts was a daily routineSince thirteen, a chubby nigga on the sceneI used to have the tre` duceAnd the duce duce in my bubblegooseNow i got the mack in my knapsackLoungin` black, smoking sacks up in actsAnd sidekicks with my sidekicks rockin fly kicksHoneys want to chatBut all we wanna know is "Where the party at?"And can i bring my gat?If not, I hope I don`t get shotBut i throw my vest on my chest`Cause niggaz is a messIt don`t take nothin` but frontin` For me to start somethin`Buggin` and barkin` at niggaz like i was duck huntin`Dumbing out, just me and my crewCause all we wanna do is...Chorus:Party... And bullshit, and... (x9)Hugs from the honeys, Pounds from the roughnecksSeen my man Sei that I knew from the projectsSaid he had beef, asked me if I had my peiceSure do, two .22`s in my shoesHoller if you need me love i`m in the houseRoam and strollin` see what the honeys is aboutMoet popping, hoe hopping, ain`t no stopping Big Poppa, I`m a BAD BOYNiggaz wanna front, who got your back? (BIGGIE!)Niggaz wanna flex, who got the gat? (BIGGIE!)It ain`t hard to tell I`m the east coast overdoserNigga you scared you`re supposed toNigga I toast ya, put fear in your heartFuck up the party before it even startPissy drunk, off the Henny and stuffOr some brand-nubian shit beatin` down punks!ChorusBitches in the back looking righteousIn a tight dress, i think i might justHit her with a little Biggie 101, How to tote a gun And have fun with Jamaician rumConversations, blunts in rotationMy man Big Jacques got the glock in his waist and we`re smoking, drinking, got the hooker thinkingIf money smell bad than this nigga Biggie stinkingIs it my charm? I got the hookers eatin out my palmShe grabbed my arm and said "Let`s leave calm"I`m hittin` skins againRolled up another blunt, bought a HeinekenNiggaz start to loke out, a kid got choked outBlows was thrown and a fucking fight broke out[Music stops, indecipherable sounds of people yelling and arguing, Biggie breaks it up yelling "Yo chill, man, chill!"]Can`t we just all get along?So i can put hickies on her chest like Li`l ShawnGet her pissy drunk off of Don PerrignonAnd it`s on, and I`m gonethat`s that.[Chorus w/ Puff talking after selected lines]Party... and Bullshit, (Party.)and Party... and Bullshit, (Bullshit.)and Party... and Bullshit, (Party.)and Party... and Bullshit, (Bullshit.)and Party... and Bullshit, (Yea... Junior Mafia likes that.)and Party... and Bullshit, and Party... and Bullshit, (Uptown likes that.)and Party... and Bullshit, and Party... and Bullshit, (Bad Boy likes that.)and Party... and Bullshit, and Party... and Bullshit, (Brooklyn Crew likes that.)and Party... and Bullshit, and Party... and Bullshit, (Third Eye likes that.)and Party... and Bullshit, [Repeats until fade out]