"93.5 K-DAY, givin you the taste of good life, your girl Yo-Yo. Should I say is it still all good? Today at 12:45 outside the Petersen Museum here in Los Angeles, Notorious B.I.G. was gunned down and pronouced dead at 1:15 this morning. As a result of the ongoing feud between East and West coast, the tragic death of Tupac Shakur who was gunned down in Las Vegas just six months earlier, our prayers go out to the families."
"Westside Radio, Julio G. A sad day today for the West coast; we lost an icon y'all. Eric 'Eazy-E' Wright, passed away today at 6:45 PM, Cedars Sinai Hospital, due to complications from AIDS. A definite West coast legend, brought you N.W.A., brought you Michel'le, brought you D.O.C., and the list goes on. We definitely gon' miss you Eazy."
Picture me rollin in that black B-M-dub, headed to the club Fresh out the Tyson fight, Beamer all rimmed up Shinin with the big homie, five-car caravan Ridin shotgun, put that chronic smoke in the air "Me Against the World" is what I told my foes So it's me against the world, 'til they poke them hoes Leanin out the window, flickin ashes off the indo Throwin up Westside, I see, some of my kinfolk Pull that blunt closer to my mouth cause only she know I'm feelin bad about that nigga we stomped out in that casino But fuck it it's Death Row - the big homie never told me that my next blow could be my fuckin death blow Tell Kidada I'm not ready, I ain't even let my momma know I ain't got no kids, I'm only twenty-fo' Before I can let the smoke out, niggaz let twenty go The thirteen that hit the car was through the passenger do' Now come wit it
Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (to my friends) Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (to my friends) Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (to my friends) Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (I will always keep you near)
I love it when they call me Big Popp-a I only smoke blunts if they roll prop-a Look I gots ta, catch the first thing smokin in Cali And hit one of my bitches in the valley Gotta call my nigga Sean, tell him reserve the don Tell him to get the chron' and the teflon I think they trippin off the homie gettin shot But God bless his soul, Lord know it wasn't Pop or the M.A.F.I.A., Kim tell Cease get the fuckin truck We 'bout to hit the Wilshire district, get fucked up Pop mad bottles son, twist up the Phillies I'm thinkin 'bout T'yanna, these niggaz is lookin silly If this was Blook-lyn I would up the 9-milli But fuck it we to the truck, roll the dutch, we out of Phillies Hop in the front seat, of that dark green Suburban Heard another car swervin, gunshots close the curtains; Biggie!
Layin in this hospital bed with bronchitis, I can't talk Walked myself in and all of a sudden I can't walk IV's in my arm, my wife Tomica at my legs (Ruthless), I mean Records, we got married on my deathbed I could hear Jerry Heller in the hall But I couldn't hear Cube and Dr. Dre no more at all Through all the bullshit them niggaz was my dawgs Niggaz With Attitudes spraypainted on the walls I'm flatlinin, it's bad timin (Straight Outta Compton), the king of gangsta rap's dyin Cause of death, the AIDS virus Conspiracy, I guess the government just hate violence They thought my group influenced the L.A. riots Woulda been here to see my kids grow, if I stayed quiet Took 12 years for a real nigga to break silence Eazy I had to let 'em know You could catch me, cruisin down the street in my six-fo'
