(feat. P. Diddy, Eminem, Obie Trice)nn[Eminem + {B.I.G.}]nIh.. ih, ih (it has been)nIt has been, it has been, it has beennIt has been said, that there has been known to be bloodshednOver bread, men who have bled to death, dead {what?}nStrapped to beds, pipe bombs, dynamite, leadnMoney power respect, street cred, yeahnIt's scary ain't it? Picture yourself goin out as a hero {uhh}nPicture mural pictures of us painted all over street cornersnFans meet to mourn us, while we meet the coronersnNotorious tried to warn usnWe watched, so many Biggie backed off of {ha ha ha}nBiggie's back and 'Pac's, landmarks, history in rapnStatistically in fact; it's so sad to see us re-enactnthese tragic events, which lead us backnTo where we left off on March 9thnTo come from such hard knock lifesnAnd make it up out of 'em, hit the spotlightsnAnd, once they're on us this is our livesnThrust out for all eyes to cast upon usnto see who can last the longestnAnd he who lasts the longest, must be the strongest {uh-huh}nIn this concrete jungle, where this dog eat dog mentality comes fromnIt's origin, which is usually originated from cats who starvinnOr it could just be somebody's horror, that just horri-fiesnAnd applies to his persona or the sizesnin his entou-rage, that intimidates the peoplenTo the point that you know that he's gangsternHe ain't just say shit, you just believe itnn[Obie Trice + {B.I.G.}]nSince B.I.B. taught us niggaz to think bignI'm been about my business since then, so anxious {what?}nIt ain't how we live, it's what he said, he did it for BrooklynnThis I took in, sent chills through my skinnVicious, I'm experiencin the same sights as himnIt's what excited Obie to write these poemsnRollin, goin through the same shit he spokennOpen up my eyes so there's no limit in them skiesnWhen _Ready to Die_ was a sick part of my life {yeah}nPalmin that forty-five, plottin to pop my mindnThen that crooked eye Jamaican I'd so many times rewindnGot me to walk a straight line and get up on my grindnGet up out the system, who could give him better signsnNo pop of mine could top Big Poppa rhymesnSo possibly I'd be popular huh? {uh-huh}nThat's the inspiration I got from my nigga B.I.nn[Diddy + {B.I.G.}]nI took him from coal to diamond, I molded his mindnEnter the most phenomenal artist of any and all timenI made a Frankenstein, my design impressednBackpackers and press who said my house was a messnCritics lashed, said I made a fortune off of his passin {what?}nAll I did was build a dynasty, off of his passionnAnd I'm addressin the adolesencents absent to who he isnThe original king of New York, Christopher Wallace...nThis is a promise on Diddy's honor, I'm a father T'YannanAnd teach her that with all the drama don't even bother...nOn repeat, all of your albums play back to back {yeah}nAnd I visit your grave cause our friendship's intactnAn immaculate concept, extravagant progressnBullet wounds left in my heart, I'm yellin God blessnRegardless to critics yellin that East/WestnI seen the game losin, I'm just pressin the reset {uhh}nAnd when the ressurection of you shines through an individualnLyrical enough to wear the same crown of thorns literally!nI'ma pay homage, Brooklyn's finestnWhether it's Queens or Harlem it'll be instant stardom, nigga!