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Living the Life
by The Notorious B.I.G.



[Notorious B.I.G + (Faith Evans)]
To my motherfuckin' man, fifty grand, the alcoholic man
Inject a tall can to his blood stream if he can
Biggie Smalls, the pussy stroker
Emcee provoker, the chocolate tah smoker (huh?)
I like to mack in Maximas and Acuras
But cheeks, I'm smackin' em' (huh?)
The raw rapper, spot smacker
Wit the lil hooker on my lap-ah, you know your favorite macker
A shy nigga, but I ain't ya fuckin' comforter
And If I ever fall in love, I bet I'd fucked it up
Ask the hooker, If I didn't jug her
She try to front, then I put the Chucky Booker on her
(Why you wanna...play games on me?)
Bitch, you crazy? Commitments, I'm Swayze
No time for the ill shit
Mess with the niggaz on that real blood spill shit
My rappin' tactics, are drastic
Stretchin' motherfuckers like Mr. Fantastic
So if you wanna see my Pedigree, you better be
Filled with energy, niggaz never gettin' me

[Chorus:Repeat x2: Bobby Valentino and Cheri Dennis + (Ludacris ab-libbing)]
Big cities and bright lights
Short days and long nights
No stress and no strife
I'm high off living the life

[Ludacris]
It's clear to see that I'm the motherfuckin' man, I done learned from the
Best of em; Took the first slot, niggaz still second guessin' em
Hoes, I'm undressin' em', foes, I'm not stresin' em'
Outlastin' a bunch of 'em , outflowed the rest of em'
Cause everyday, I stay preachin' on the pulpit
So tell them haters they could miss me with that bullshit
But I won't miss, I'm Luda, the heat holder
I'm rich, bitch! I've done more shows than Oprah
And I'm a soldier, ready for whatever
Roll with a bunch of niggaz that don't know no better
King like Coretta, countin' mo' cheddar
Just hired two dykes to be my ho getters
When it comes to these women, dog, ain't no one fuckin' wit me
They runnin' back, you think I had TJ Duckett wit me
That's cause I throw it like Vick, from the yard line
Menage a trois, it's safe to say I'm havin' hard times

[Chorus + (Ludacris ab-libbing)]

[Snoop Dogg]
To my nigga Chopper dot, with the whoopty-whop on the block
Got the heaters cocked, cause I know the suckers on the block
Hennesey and Belve-D, brings a lot of jealousy
Nigga stop snitchin', nephew, why you tellin' me?
They say the game ain't what it use to be no mo'
Used to be a G, but now he just a ho
Runnin' 'round poitin' fingers, tellin' names
You fuckin' up the rules to this dirty game, and it's a diry shame
I ain't flippin' out, that's probably why I'm dippin' out
Ya'll fools trippin' out, that why I'm on a different route
Now, makin' money, havin' clout, what's what it's all about
Twenty seven cars and a tweleve bedroom house
Now they call me Snoopy Trump
I keep my heater close, cause I love to bust
Now hat's a stain on a nigga, I bang on a nigga
Kick rocks and watch how I do my thang, young nigga; I'm livin' the life!

[Chorus + (Snoop Dogg ab-libbing)]

[Chorus]
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written by BRIDGES, CHRISTOPHER BRIAN / WHITE, BARRY EUGENE / BUTLER, JERRY / YANCY, MARVIN JEROME / ANGELETTIE, DERIC MICHAEL / MACK, CRAIG J. / COLEMAN, TREVELL / ELLIOTT, MELISSA A. / WALLACE, CHRISTOPHER / BROADUS, CORDOZAR CALVIN
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, EMI Music Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., MASS CONFUSION