Released: March 25, 1997
Featuring: The Notorious B.I.G.
Songwriter: Ike Lee III The Notorious B.I.G. Tracey Lee
Producer: Ike Lee III
[Verse 1: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh
Fuck that, I preach it, my nine reaches
The prestigious, cats that speak this, Willie shit
Flooded pieces, my hand releases, snatches
Smack ya cabbage, half-ass rappers, shouldn't have it
So I grab it, never run, the outcome, is usually
A beat down brutally, fuck who you be, or where you from
West or East coast, squeeze toast, leave most
In the blood they layin' in, ask Tray and them
[Verse 2: Tracey Lee]
Oh shit, I suppose it's, time to go snitch
Flip a line and get the show lit
You clown niggas hold it
Down your flow lax, just so you know that
We could battle for days like old cats
Black, you dealin' with a throw back
Winnin' like straight jacks, with a wide range of rhyme teams
My lyrics they bang like migraines
Nigga my name's, Tray the terrible
Philadelph, wild child incredible
Too sick for medical attention (aaahhh), people listen
It's verbal ascension, like Maxwell many dimensions
Flood over tracks, well, mics in critical condition
Killin' ya Maxell, unveil lyrical skills unknown
For my peoples with illegal cell phones
A real MC let's bring it back home
Live from the two-one-five, that lost a back bone
In charge, and heavily armed like Brett Favre
You for saw it, nigga stay down
Biggie make them hit the floor face down
[Verse 3: The Notorious B.I.G.]
What, what, what
The rings and things you sing about, bring 'em out
It's hard to yell, when the bar-rel's in your mouth
It's more than I expected, I thought ya jewels was rented
But they wasn't, so run it, cousin
I could chill, the heat doesn't, ran up in your shell about a dozen
You never seen bank like, Frank White, ya hand clutchin'
Ya chest plate, contemplates, you 'bout to die nigga wait
Keep yo' hands high
[Chorus: Tracey Lee]
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high
Ain't no right or wrong in this game called survive
So you know, it's Tray and B-I, G, schemin' on your cream
Why try, keep yo' hands high
You don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high
Ain't no right or wrong in this game called survive
So you know, it's Tray and B-I, G, schemin' on your cream
Why try, keep yo' hands high
(High high, high high, high high, high high
High high, high high, high high)
[Verse 4: Tracey Lee]
Ayo, it's showtime, so I'ma blow nines, into your spine
'Til what's yours is mines, you know what this is
Bag the Benjamins with all ya riches
How quickly, the milli turns Willies to bitches
Controllin' your fate, a hole in your plate
Fuck the show dates, I want the whole state
The squad's harassin', all of y'all niggas who flashin'
We doin' this the Tray Lee way
Delay, then nigga we spray
No ignoring us, me and Notorious
[Verse 5: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Uhh, uhh
I got a new mouth to feed, I'm due south with keys
Y'all pick seeds out y'all weed, I watch cowards bleed
Motherfucker please, it's my block, with my rocks
Fuck that hip-hop, them one-two's, and ya don't stops
Me and my nigga Lance, took Kim and Cease advance
Bought ten bricks, four pounds of weed plants
From Branson, now we lampin', twelve room mansion
Bitches get naked off Get Money, Player's Anthem
Don't forget, One More Chance and, my other hits
Other shit, niggas spit be counterfeit
Robbery come naturally, in and out like fuckin' rapidly
Pass the gat to me
Make his chest rest, where his back should be
Talkin' blasphemy, blastin' me, your family, rest in coffins often
Frank Wizza, far from soft or fragilla
Play hard like Reggie Miller, rapper, slash dope dealer
Slash gorilla, slash illest turned iller
[Verse 6: Tracey Lee]
So nigga keep ya hands high
Run all your so-called possessions, links with baguettes in
Keys to your Lex, for us to make your shorties dressed in
A full jack maneuver, don't nobody move, just the moolah
It's RNF and Junior, M.A.F., runnin' through ya like Kahlua
If rum sung then you fly, niggas with the 45
But true lies, you brought out the real nigga in me
Now I'ma cock the semi, watch you strip like Demi
[Chorus: Tracey Lee]
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high
Ain't no right or wrong in this game called survive
So you know it's Tray and B-I, G, schemin' on your cream
Why try, keep yo' hands high
You don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high
Ain't no right or wrong in this game called survive
So you know it's Tray and B-I, G, schemin' on your cream
Why try, keep yo' hands high
High high, high high, high high, high high
High high, high high, high high
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high....
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high....
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high...
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high...
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high...
Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh
Fuck that, I preach it, my nine reaches
The prestigious, cats that speak this, Willie shit
Flooded pieces, my hand releases, snatches
Smack ya cabbage, half-ass rappers, shouldn't have it
So I grab it, never run, the outcome, is usually
A beat down brutally, fuck who you be, or where you from
West or East coast, squeeze toast, leave most
In the blood they layin' in, ask Tray and them
[Verse 2: Tracey Lee]
Oh shit, I suppose it's, time to go snitch
Flip a line and get the show lit
You clown niggas hold it
Down your flow lax, just so you know that
We could battle for days like old cats
Black, you dealin' with a throw back
Winnin' like straight jacks, with a wide range of rhyme teams
My lyrics they bang like migraines
Nigga my name's, Tray the terrible
Philadelph, wild child incredible
Too sick for medical attention (aaahhh), people listen
It's verbal ascension, like Maxwell many dimensions
Flood over tracks, well, mics in critical condition
Killin' ya Maxell, unveil lyrical skills unknown
For my peoples with illegal cell phones
A real MC let's bring it back home
Live from the two-one-five, that lost a back bone
In charge, and heavily armed like Brett Favre
You for saw it, nigga stay down
Biggie make them hit the floor face down
[Verse 3: The Notorious B.I.G.]
What, what, what
The rings and things you sing about, bring 'em out
It's hard to yell, when the bar-rel's in your mouth
It's more than I expected, I thought ya jewels was rented
But they wasn't, so run it, cousin
I could chill, the heat doesn't, ran up in your shell about a dozen
You never seen bank like, Frank White, ya hand clutchin'
Ya chest plate, contemplates, you 'bout to die nigga wait
Keep yo' hands high
[Chorus: Tracey Lee]
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high
Ain't no right or wrong in this game called survive
So you know, it's Tray and B-I, G, schemin' on your cream
Why try, keep yo' hands high
You don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high
Ain't no right or wrong in this game called survive
So you know, it's Tray and B-I, G, schemin' on your cream
Why try, keep yo' hands high
(High high, high high, high high, high high
High high, high high, high high)
[Verse 4: Tracey Lee]
Ayo, it's showtime, so I'ma blow nines, into your spine
'Til what's yours is mines, you know what this is
Bag the Benjamins with all ya riches
How quickly, the milli turns Willies to bitches
Controllin' your fate, a hole in your plate
Fuck the show dates, I want the whole state
The squad's harassin', all of y'all niggas who flashin'
We doin' this the Tray Lee way
Delay, then nigga we spray
No ignoring us, me and Notorious
[Verse 5: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Uhh, uhh
I got a new mouth to feed, I'm due south with keys
Y'all pick seeds out y'all weed, I watch cowards bleed
Motherfucker please, it's my block, with my rocks
Fuck that hip-hop, them one-two's, and ya don't stops
Me and my nigga Lance, took Kim and Cease advance
Bought ten bricks, four pounds of weed plants
From Branson, now we lampin', twelve room mansion
Bitches get naked off Get Money, Player's Anthem
Don't forget, One More Chance and, my other hits
Other shit, niggas spit be counterfeit
Robbery come naturally, in and out like fuckin' rapidly
Pass the gat to me
Make his chest rest, where his back should be
Talkin' blasphemy, blastin' me, your family, rest in coffins often
Frank Wizza, far from soft or fragilla
Play hard like Reggie Miller, rapper, slash dope dealer
Slash gorilla, slash illest turned iller
[Verse 6: Tracey Lee]
So nigga keep ya hands high
Run all your so-called possessions, links with baguettes in
Keys to your Lex, for us to make your shorties dressed in
A full jack maneuver, don't nobody move, just the moolah
It's RNF and Junior, M.A.F., runnin' through ya like Kahlua
If rum sung then you fly, niggas with the 45
But true lies, you brought out the real nigga in me
Now I'ma cock the semi, watch you strip like Demi
[Chorus: Tracey Lee]
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high
Ain't no right or wrong in this game called survive
So you know it's Tray and B-I, G, schemin' on your cream
Why try, keep yo' hands high
You don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high
Ain't no right or wrong in this game called survive
So you know it's Tray and B-I, G, schemin' on your cream
Why try, keep yo' hands high
High high, high high, high high, high high
High high, high high, high high
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high....
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high....
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high...
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high...
If you don't wanna die, keep yo' hands high...