| Song | If I Should Die Before I Wake |
| Artist | The Notorious B.I.G. |
| Artist | Black Rob |
| Artist | Ice Cube |
| Artist | Beanie Sigel |
| Album | Born Again |
| 作词 : Angelettie, Charlemagne ... | |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah | |
| I'm on fuck 'em, yeah, yeah | |
| With my hands gripped, praise the | |
| Lord shitFuck her, never knew her, screw her | |
| Dump her body, dump her body | |
| Sewer our | |
| FatherWhat you expected from his next of kin | |
| I'm loco bro but ain't no | |
| MexicanI got nines in the bedroom, glocks in the kitchen | |
| A shotty by the shower if you wanna shoot me while | |
| I'm shittin' | |
| The lesson from the | |
| Smith and | |
| Wesson is depressin' | |
| Niggaz keep stressin', the same motherfuckin' question | |
| How many shots does it take, to make my heart stop | |
| And my body start to shake, if | |
| I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeFuck that, snap a nigga shit, smash him with the fifth | |
| Watch his body lift, shut his hottie's lips, bitch screamin' | |
| Hit her body quick got me like the trifest not knowin' how my life is | |
| My life is, rap sheet long as the | |
| TurnpikeThe sheistest, hey fella, who bidded with the lifers | |
| Did it with the glocks, spit it witcha pops, you was in diapers | |
| Loved me when you came to | |
| RikersHated me all in the free cypher; mad you can't be like us | |
| Some murderers who turn bikers see | |
| Biggie Smalls | |
| Recruited these snipers alumni do it just like us | |
| Some pied pipers, squeezin' life out y'all | |
| It's all out war, be all wild as all outdoor | |
| If a coward got beef, y'all be checkin' his palm | |
| Paralyzin' my niggaz thorough kid, how bout yours? | |
| Real quick to screw a nigga then, hop out four | |
| Clean the wipers, hit the party up and, hop out yours | |
| Bitch nigga, whoah | |
| With my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeYo, when you fuckin' wit' | |
| Mac, you fuckin' wit' the best | |
| Still wall to wall with them dusty | |
| TecsMan you know how | |
| I handle my shit, | |
| S.K. can on my shit | |
| Jump out of vans like | |
| Hannibal Smith | |
| Man I spit a thousand rounds, your squad don't need it | |
| Shredders in a riot pump leave you quadriplegic | |
| When I squeeze don't breathe keep it lined and even | |
| So when niggaz get hit, they be cryin' screamin', lyin', bleedin' | |
| From that iron steamin' | |
| And I ain't tryin' to hear that bullshit, | |
| I ain't mean it | |
| Niggaz start bitchin', when that pistol in they face | |
| Or I sick two puts to come and get you in your place | |
| If I catch you in my shit, | |
| I'm wakin' my bitch | |
| Hear take this shit, crackin' the brick, facin' that shit | |
| Takin' two sniffs, grabbin' my shit best believe if | |
| I get hitY'all niggaz takin' some shit picture niggaz takin' my shit | |
| With my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeNiggaz never thought they'd see | |
| Cube and Biggie | |
| In the year 2000, all drunk and pissy | |
| Off whiskey, you can miss me, actin' gay | |
| He's the King of | |
| New York, | |
| I'm the King of | |
| L.A.Doin' it the | |
| O.G. way, it's sorta like | |
| The Brooklyn | |
| Way, it's just the crook in me | |
| So this is dedicated to the memory of | |
| The Notorious | |
| One, the glorious one | |
| And if you go for your gun, | |
| I got to go for mine | |
| Cock my nine and separate yo head from yo spine | |
| So, Grab yo dicks if you love hip hop and | |
| Fuck you niggaz that shot | |
| Big PopThe conspiracy, of this nation, for assassination | |
| Of the young black male in this black hell | |
| And I can tell, no matter the weather | |
| That you and | |
| Tupac got yo' shit together | |
| California | |
| LoveWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wake |
| zuò cí : Angelettie, Charlemagne ... | |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah | |
| I' m on fuck ' em, yeah, yeah | |
| With my hands gripped, praise the | |
| Lord shitFuck her, never knew her, screw her | |
| Dump her body, dump her body | |
| Sewer our | |
| FatherWhat you expected from his next of kin | |
| I' m loco bro but ain' t no | |
| MexicanI got nines in the bedroom, glocks in the kitchen | |
| A shotty by the shower if you wanna shoot me while | |
| I' m shittin' | |
| The lesson from the | |
| Smith and | |
| Wesson is depressin' | |
| Niggaz keep stressin', the same motherfuckin' question | |
| How many shots does it take, to make my heart stop | |
| And my body start to shake, if | |
| I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeFuck that, snap a nigga shit, smash him with the fifth | |
| Watch his body lift, shut his hottie' s lips, bitch screamin' | |
| Hit her body quick got me like the trifest not knowin' how my life is | |
| My life is, rap sheet long as the | |
| TurnpikeThe sheistest, hey fella, who bidded with the lifers | |
| Did it with the glocks, spit it witcha pops, you was in diapers | |
| Loved me when you came to | |
| RikersHated me all in the free cypher mad you can' t be like us | |
| Some murderers who turn bikers see | |
| Biggie Smalls | |
| Recruited these snipers alumni do it just like us | |
| Some pied pipers, squeezin' life out y' all | |
| It' s all out war, be all wild as all outdoor | |
| If a coward got beef, y' all be checkin' his palm | |
| Paralyzin' my niggaz thorough kid, how bout yours? | |
| Real quick to screw a nigga then, hop out four | |
| Clean the wipers, hit the party up and, hop out yours | |
| Bitch nigga, whoah | |
| With my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeYo, when you fuckin' wit' | |
| Mac, you fuckin' wit' the best | |
| Still wall to wall with them dusty | |
| TecsMan you know how | |
| I handle my shit, | |
| S. K. can on my shit | |
| Jump out of vans like | |
| Hannibal Smith | |
| Man I spit a thousand rounds, your squad don' t need it | |
| Shredders in a riot pump leave you quadriplegic | |
| When I squeeze don' t breathe keep it lined and even | |
| So when niggaz get hit, they be cryin' screamin', lyin', bleedin' | |
| From that iron steamin' | |
| And I ain' t tryin' to hear that bullshit, | |
| I ain' t mean it | |
| Niggaz start bitchin', when that pistol in they face | |
| Or I sick two puts to come and get you in your place | |
| If I catch you in my shit, | |
| I' m wakin' my bitch | |
| Hear take this shit, crackin' the brick, facin' that shit | |
| Takin' two sniffs, grabbin' my shit best believe if | |
| I get hitY' all niggaz takin' some shit picture niggaz takin' my shit | |
| With my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeNiggaz never thought they' d see | |
| Cube and Biggie | |
| In the year 2000, all drunk and pissy | |
| Off whiskey, you can miss me, actin' gay | |
| He' s the King of | |
| New York, | |
| I' m the King of | |
| L. A. Doin' it the | |
| O. G. way, it' s sorta like | |
| The Brooklyn | |
| Way, it' s just the crook in me | |
| So this is dedicated to the memory of | |
| The Notorious | |
| One, the glorious one | |
| And if you go for your gun, | |
| I got to go for mine | |
| Cock my nine and separate yo head from yo spine | |
| So, Grab yo dicks if you love hip hop and | |
| Fuck you niggaz that shot | |
| Big PopThe conspiracy, of this nation, for assassination | |
| Of the young black male in this black hell | |
| And I can tell, no matter the weather | |
| That you and | |
| Tupac got yo' shit together | |
| California | |
| LoveWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wakeWith my hands gripped | |
| Praise the | |
| Lord shit, our | |
| FatherIf I should die before | |
| I wake |