Music Video

The Notorious B.I.G.−1970 Somethin' feat. The Game and Faith Evans
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Notorious B.I.G.
The Notorious B.I.G.
Vocals
Faith Evans
Faith Evans
Vocals
The Game
The Game
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Diana King
Diana King
Songwriter
Harry Wayne Casey
Harry Wayne Casey
Songwriter
Jack Knight
Jack Knight
Songwriter
Stephen Garrett
Stephen Garrett
Songwriter
Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
The Game
The Game
Mixing Engineer
Andre Harris
Andre Harris
Producer
Vidal Davis
Vidal Davis
Producer
Andrew Dawson
Andrew Dawson
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

1970 Somethin' nigga I don't sweat the date my moms was late So I had to plan my escape, out the skins In this world the fly girls, tangeray and hennesey Untill I call earl, 10 months in this gut, wut the fuck I wish moms would hurry up, so I can get buck wild Juvenile with the mics n shit, New York New York, ready for the likes of this (oh) Then came the worst date, May 21st 2:19 was when my moma water burst No spouse in the house, so she rolled herself To the hospital, to see if she could get a little help Umbilicle cords wrapped around my neck I'm seein' my death, and I ain't even took my first step I made it out I'm bringin' mad joy The docter looked and said he's gonna be BAD BOY! I remmember back in time, before all the homies died, before all the dollars and nines I knew that I was goin' somewhere Let me take you back in time, before I even got the rhyme, before I had nickels and dimes I knew that I was goin' somewhere Would 'Pac be alive, if you let 'Pac drive? Swear to God to reverse it I give my left eye With the right I visualized, the king of Bed-Stuy Checkin' his daughter Tianna into junior high If I was in Brooklyn, and B.I. was still alive, in 2006 it might sound like this N.Y. 718 212, with Sue's Rendevouz It's like Moulin Rouge High fashion, up town Air Force Ones And Vasquez, Puerto Ricans with fat asses Lace Dutch Masters, we dump ashes, on models and S classes For you bastards, catch a cab to Manhattan With that broadway actin', you hype that belly shit Would you get you capped, and wrapped in plastic Tell the captain, S Roge was happennin' Out here nor speak no evil, inside the Magnum I remmember back in time, before all the homies died, before all the dollars and nines I knew that I was goin' somewhere, let me take you back in time Now I'm 13 smokin' blunts, makin' green Or on the drug scene, fuck the football team Risk it, rupt ur spleens, by the age of 16 Hearin' the coach scream, make my lifetime dream I mean, I wanna blow up, stack my doe up So school I didn't show up, and fuck my flow up Mom said that I should grow up, and check myself Before I wreck myself, disrespect myself Put the drugs on the shelf, naww! I couldn't see it Scarface king of New York, I wanna be it Rap was secondary, money was neccessary Untill I got encarcerated, kinda scarry See 74' march 8, set me straight, not able to move behind a great steal gate Time to contemplate, damn were did I fail All the money I stacked, was all the money for bail I remmember back in time, before all the homies died, before all the dollars and nines I knew that I was goin' somewhere Let me take you back in time, before I even got the rhyme, before I had nickels and dimes I knew that I was goin' somewhere (yeah)
Writer(s): Christopher Wallace, Jean Claude Olivier, Stephen Ellis Garrett, Harry Casey, Rick Finch, Sean Combs, Jayceon Taylor, Tijuan T Frampton Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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