Celebrate my escape, sold the Glock, bought some weight. Laid back, I got some money to make. Motherfucker! - The Notorious B.I.G.

I've got seven MAC-11s, about eight .38s, nine 9s, ten MAC-10s. The shits never end, you can't touch my riches. Even if you have MC Hammer and them 3-5-7 bitches.

I made a change from a common thief, to up-close and personal with Robin Leach, and I'm far from cheap. I smoke skunk with my peeps all day, spread love it's the Brooklyn way. The moet and alize keeps me pissy. Girls used to diss me, now they write letters cuz they miss me. I never thought it could happen this rapping stuff. I was too used to packing gats and stuff. Now honeys play me close like butter played toast, from the Mississippi down to the East Coast. Condos in queens, indoor for weeks. sold out seats to hear Biggy Smalls speak. Living life without fear, putting 5 carats in my baby girls ears. Lunchies, brunchies. Interviews by the pool, considered a fool 'cause I dropped out of high school. Stereotypes of a black male misunderstood and it's still all good.

Goodness Gracious The Paper! Where the Cash at? Where the Stash at?