This track was supposed to be on Busta Rhymes' “The Coming”, but Biggie took shots at 2Pac in his verse so Busta decided not to put it on the album. P. Diddy then tried to buy the beat from The Ummah, but J Dilla (who mainly produced it) didn’t want to to sell it.
The song is one of a very few colla...
[Intro: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Yeah, '96, for my Nostrand Ave niggas
My Fulton Street niggas (Hardcore for '96)
Dangerous MC's
Ugh (Check it out), ugh
[Verse 1: The Notorious B.I.G]
Diamonds on my neck, chrome drop-top
Chillin' on the scene, smokin' pounds of green
Ooh-wee, you see, the ugliest (Ugh)
Money-hungriest, Brooklyn Loch-Ness
Nine millimeter cock test, wan fi' test? (Ugh)
And the winner is, not that thinner kid
Bandanas, tattoos, my fist never bruise (What)
Land still cruise, Frank White paid his dues
Ask who's the raw, bet they say "Poppa, very"
Look forward to me like commissary (Ugh)
All of a sudden, now everybody Big Willie
Done did it, come with it, get your head splitted
Or get your neck slitted, admit it, you overdid it
Your shit it just ain't got that loud
Gold tooth shine like "ta-dow"
Biggie Smalls the illest—and how, phrase raise your eyebrow
By now you figure, he talkin 'bout that nigga
But your weak-ass assumptions, lead lead to dumpin'
IV to pumpin', you're feeling something
Catch my drift or catch my four-fifth lift
At least six inches, above project fences
Turn meat to minces, jumps turn to flinches
When I rain I drenches, cleared your park benches
Missed you by pinches, your talk is senseless
Actor needs chiropractor for cracked jaw
Yes I rocked your chatterbox
Dangerous, you're not, I gets down
Twist your body ‘round and ‘round, upside down
[Chorus: Roc Marciano]
Is the love really there? (Is it?)
Do a thug shed the same tear? (Never know)
Throw your ice in the the air, we here
And we all gon' ball 'til the courts up here
Don't give a fuck what them niggas think we toting in here (Come on)
Is the love really there? (Is it?)
Do a thug shed the same tear? (Never know)
Throw your ice in the the air, we here
And we all gon' ball 'til the courts up here
Don't give a fuck what them niggas think we toting in here
[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]
Uh, smoke a little then we cut coke a little
And we skim a little off of the top
Taking you back when niggas use to snort coke
And toast through the hood and cry up to
Be the richest folk to float through the hood
Niggas doin' real good, it was evident in the testament was coke
Flow was good when Ronald Reagan was president
The say no to drugs slogan growing greatly irrelevant
Niggas gettin caught with bricks but still reaching the settlement
Niggas a get a one to three and come home in twelve months
Run up and take a niggas shit and eave 'em with twelve lumps
I've never been so willin' to put the thoughts of mo killin'
Into manufacturing a flow so bone chillin'
Icy with a pistol, nigga
Shit glitter like ballroom chandelier, crystal, nigga
Stack money as we live life simple
In the corner of the club sippin' on a Harvey's Bristol, nigga
C'mon, modern day gangsta shit
And die slow as we give you niggas cancer shit, c'mon
[Chorus: Roc Marciano]
Is the love really there? (Is it?)
Do a thug shed the same tear? (Never know)
Throw your ice in the the air, we here
And we all gon' ball 'til the courts up here
Don't give a fuck what them niggas think we toting in here (Come on)
Is the love really there? (Is it?)
Do a thug shed the same tear? (Never know)
Throw your ice in the the air, we here
And we all gon' ball 'til the courts up here
Don't give a fuck what them niggas think we toting in here
[Verse 3: Labba]
What you know about a nigga murder, I got no chemical
Than courts in Miami water got shit federal
Time for that ass, I rather go to Little Haiti
Buy some bricks and then stash it
Head back north, cross 8 line to become the boss
Enforce the Laws, *******
You want some motherfuckin' wholesale, keep it steppin'
No discount, player, no fuckin' credit
No shorts, I came to govern the laws (damn)
And you paying the price so you dying by the sword
You had a devil smokin with them rebels
We kill for money and power
Extortionin' my own hood and that shit's power
A black man crime call 'em a coward
A black man with knowledge we kill 'em tomorrow
Its sickenin', that's how our people live
We disrespect our elders and curse our Church Members
Modern Day Gangsters was written by Busta Rhymes & The Notorious B.I.G. & Labba.
Busta Rhymes released Modern Day Gangsters on Tue Sep 07 2004.