Текст песни The Notorious B.I.G. — It Has Been Said
(feat. P. Diddy, Eminem, Obie Trice)
[Eminem + {B.I.G.}]
Ih… ih, ih (it has been)
It has been, it has been, it has been
It has been said, that there has been known to be bloodshed
Over bread, men who have bled to death, dead {what?}
Strapped to beds, pipe bombs, dynamite, lead
Money power respect, street cred, yeah
It’s scary ain’t it? Picture yourself goin out as a hero {uhh}
Picture mural pictures of us painted all over street corners
Fans meet to mourn us, while we meet the coroners
Notorious tried to warn us
We watched, so many Biggie backed off of {ha ha ha}
Biggie’s back and ’Pac’s, landmarks, history in rap
Statistically in fact; it’s so sad to see us re-enact
these tragic events, which lead us back
To where we left off on March 9th
To come from such hard knock lifes
And make it up out of ’em, hit the spotlights
And, once they’re on us this is our lives
Thrust out for all eyes to cast upon us
to see who can last the longest
And he who lasts the longest, must be the strongest {uh-huh}
In this concrete jungle, where this dog eat dog mentality comes from
It’s origin, which is usually originated from cats who starvin
Or it could just be somebody’s horror, that just horri-fies
And applies to his persona or the sizes
in his entou-rage, that intimidates the people
To the point that you know that he’s gangster
He ain’t just say shit, you just believe it
[Obie Trice + {B.I.G.}]
Since B.I.B. taught us niggaz to think big
I’m been about my business since then, so anxious {what?}
It ain’t how we live, it’s what he said, he did it for Brooklyn
This I took in, sent chills through my skin
Vicious, I’m experiencin the same sights as him
It’s what excited Obie to write these poems
Rollin, goin through the same shit he spoken
Open up my eyes so there’s no limit in them skies
When _Ready to Die_ was a sick part of my life {yeah}
Palmin that forty-five, plottin to pop my mind
Then that crooked eye Jamaican I’d so many times rewind
Got me to walk a straight line and get up on my grind
Get up out the system, who could give him better signs
No pop of mine could top Big Poppa rhymes
So possibly I’d be popular huh? {uh-huh}
That’s the inspiration I got from my nigga B.I.
[Diddy + {B.I.G.}]
I took him from coal to diamond, I molded his mind
Enter the most phenomenal artist of any and all time
I made a Frankenstein, my design impressed
Backpackers and press who said my house was a mess
Critics lashed, said I made a fortune off of his passin {what?}
All I did was build a dynasty, off of his passion
And I’m addressin the adolesencents absent to who he is
The original king of New York, Christopher Wallace…
This is a promise on Diddy’s honor, I’m a father T’Yanna
And teach her that with all the drama don’t even bother…
On repeat, all of your albums play back to back {yeah}
And I visit your grave cause our friendship’s intact
An immaculate concept, extravagant progress
Bullet wounds left in my heart, I’m yellin "God bless"
Regardless to critics yellin that East/West
I seen the game losin, I’m just pressin the reset {uhh}
And when the ressurection of you shines through an individual
Lyrical enough to wear the same crown of thorns literally!
I’ma pay homage, Brooklyn’s finest
Whether it’s Queens or Harlem it’ll be instant stardom, nigga!