Notorious B.I.G.

Inspiration: The music of The Notorious B.I.G.

What I'm Listening to: Ready to Die and Life After Death - Notorious B.I.G.

I met him in Brooklyn. He was hanging out with Heavy D. and "A Buncha Niggas." When he spit his verse I knew he would "bring drama, like ya spit on (his) mama." He was a "head peeler, girl stealer/ coffin sealer, ex drug dealer." We hit up a club to "Party and Bullshit." Some mess popped off and I "asked (him) if he had his gat." His response was a slick "Sure do. 2 .22's in my shoes." The drama died down and we became friends. BIG told me about his "Dreams" as he would "sit back, relax, steam a blunt and sip a Becks." We reminisced about the old days and he let me know that "Things Done Changed." I'll never forget when he said " back in the days our parents used to take care of us/Look at them now they even fuckin' scared of us/ calling the city for help b/c they can't maintain/ damn, shit done changed."

See they had good reason to be scared. Me and Biggie was on some "Gimme the Loot" stuff. We was "slamming niggas like Shaquille, shit is real/ when its time to eat a meal/ (we) rob and steal." Eventually, he tried to move away from the life of crime. He put me on to that "Machine Gun Funk." On a cold winter night BIG told me that he was "doing rhymes now/ fuck the crime now. Come on the ave, I'm real hard to find now." That didn't stop him from issuing a "Warning" to anyone who would test him. For them, there would "be a lot of slow singing and flower bringing/ if (his) burglar alarm started ringing." You couldn't test him. Biggie was "Ready To Die" if need be. He said " Fuck the world, fuck my moms and my girl/My life is played out like a Jheri Curl.

I asked him to give life "One More Chance" Surely there was something to live for. For Big, that reason became the ladies. He didn't care if they were "skinny or fat, light skinned or black." He had a motto he liked to call "The What": "bitches I like 'em brainless/ guns I like them stainless steel/ I want the fuckin fortune like the wheel." And he got it, too. His life became "Juicy" after a while. Where at first "birthdays were the worst days, now we sip champagne when we thirsty." The money didn't go to his head though. He remembered back when it was an "Everyday Struggle" He never lost sight of his drug dealing days. He knew "how it feel to wake up fucked up/ pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell." Biggie didn't glorify those days, but he damn sure didn't forget.

Around that time, he started messing with this girl named Kim. "Me and My Bitch" he used to say. He relayed how she "liked to play ceelo and craps/packin gats, in a Coach bag, steaming dime bags." He loved it when she called him "Big Poppa." But she wasn't the only one in his life. One night at club he told me that "one of these honeys Biggie got to creep with/sleep with, keep the ep a secret why not?/ Why blow up my spot cuz we both got hot." It was a matter of "Respect." BIG had come a long way since "Nineteen seventy something" and couldn't bring himself to settle down with one woman. He liked to say that he "don't sweat those hoes" because they would just as soon get with a "Friend of Mine." He told me a story about a girl he was messing with. He said one day he was "on the creep up the avenue/I seen her on the block, who she rappin' to?/That's my nigga Dee, damn he got G/Now she fuckin him and fuckin me, see/You know that ain't right"

That shit was "Unbelievable." to me. But it didn't phase him. He still had that Brooklyn swagger about him. His lyrical prowess was never in question. Everybody knew who he was and if you didn't he would let you know. He'd say he was "B-I-G, G-I-E, AKA, B.I.G./Get it? Biggie/Also known as the bon appetit/Rappers can't sleep need sleepin Big keep creepin/Bullets heat-seekin, casualties need treatin/Dumb rappers need teachin" That put all of the other rappers in their place. Eventually the stress of being the best led him to have "Suicidal Thoughts." He said he "was sick of niggas lying, I'm sick of bitches hawkin/ matter of fact, I'm sick of talking. And just like that it was over. He told me he was "Ready to Die" a while back, but I didn't believe it.


One shot couldn't touch him. Thank God for that. He started to "Get Money" with Junior Mafia. He even taunted his enemies by asking "Who Shot Ya?" Biggie was indeed "Brooklyn's Finest." He had so much to say about his "Life after Death" that one CD couldn't hold it all. I was "Hypnotize(d)" when he told me "I Got a Story to Tell" about "Mo Money, Mo Problems" He posed the question "What's Beef?" and then answered his own query with a "Kick in the Door." "Notorious Thugs" from all over followed his "Ten Crack Commandments." He taught me that the "Sky's the Limit" and it don't matter if you are "Going Back to Cali" or waiting for that "Long Kiss Goodnight", "You're Nobody ('Til Somebody Kills You)" Sadly on March 9th, 1997, somebody did just that. An assassin's bullet cut down the greatness of Frank White AKA Biggie AKA The Notorious B.I.G., AKA Christopher Wallace.

I now know how people feel when they remember vividly where they were when JFK or John Lennon was killed. I'll never forget that night laying on the couch when my sister called and told me the bad news. The feeling of disbelief at a life ended way too soon. The promise of a genius snuffed out in its prime. A ghetto griot no longer around to spin his tales to the masses. REST IN PEACE, BIGGIE!!! You will never be forgotten.






It was written...