Y'all Know Who Killed Him (feat. The Notorious B.I.G.)

You seen that kid man?

That's my man, dog, you know?

It's crazy, you know what I'm saying?

How you know, kid just laid him down like that

You know what I mean?

Word, word on the streets, man

It's them same cats, man, that got your other boy

Word

I know who killed him, filled him with the rugers

From the Rugers on they death

My name rings bigger D across the land, I'm the man

Advance me 400 grand

And on top of all that, B, I'm smooth as a silk

This is milk, brothers know how black he is built

People want me off the streets, man, sworn affidavits

Had me back and forth to court, but, family, I made it

I guess I'm living proof that rhyme do pay

Mean lawyer on the side with the fake toupee

Hey, daddy on call, 600 an hour

Have me back on the streets in no less than a hour

BR is the epitome of F-ing black power

Bruh, get it how you live, the pleasure's all ours

I don't know about duke, man, but fam is a thug

It's a shame how they laid your man down like rug

And no, all this black killing black stuff is tired

And mired, and like that your time expired

And you're gone

I know who killed him, filled him with the rugers

From the Rugers on they death

I know who killed him, filled him with the rugers

From the Rugers on they death

Here's K, AKA the neighborhood gambler

Second floor, next door to Wayne Alexander

Got him on camera, doing it up

If the boy on parole, man, he screwing it up

Aw man, they taped him while he was walking

Mic in his shirt collar, one they use often

Now this a question that's one that's asked often

Who ate his guts enough to put him in the coffin?

Could have been Ike, he had beef from way back

When he slapped his little niece in front of discotheque

I could tell you how wild is that

Trust me if I do, you could bet it be right and exact

Sit back

I know who killed him, filled him with the rugers

From the Rugers on they death

I know who killed him, filled him with the rugers

From the Rugers on they death

I don't like duke unless we tumble

I got the scope on his rib so he best be humble

Lot of spots I ain't go inside yet

'Cause my track record makes me a bonafide threat

This is chopper 23, rest in peace to Poodle

When this thing jump off, chopsticks do your noodles

I feel my competition is wonton soup

Think it's cute, I make it where they can't regroup, shoot

This is solid, don't get cute, cousin

In your life, all I'm doing is pressing the mute button

It's serious biz when gats come to your crib

And smack your kids and crack a couple of your ribs

It's all in a night's work, light work

No witnesses, Black, nice work

Now we in the light hearse, I might disperse

Fifty shots at his hearse if worst came to worst

You could be the next coward, I came and hung

Had him on the 6 o'clock news with Connie Chung

Next time, doggy, watch your tongue

Make the interview fun out the barrel of a .22, uh

I know who killed him, filled him with the rugers

From the Rugers on they death

I know who killed him, filled him with the rugers

From the Rugers on they death

It's wild, it's ugly out here

Watch yourself, man

You could be next, watch it

Big shout to everybody up north

All my dudes doing it big

Harlem, everywhere across the world

Word, it's crazy, man