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Been Around the World
Diddy, The Notorious B.I.G., Mase
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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Yo, yo, this Mase, you know what I'm sayin'?
You got niggas that don't like me for whatever reason
You got niggas that don't wanna see me rich
You got niggas that's mad, 'cause I'm always with they bitch
Then you got niggas that just don't like me
You know, the- those P.H.D. niggas
But you know I pop a lot of shit but I back it up though
See it's a difference, a lot of niggas pop shit
But a lot of niggas don't make hits
But it's like, this whole Bad Boy shit
We come to bring it to y'all niggas, me, B.I., Puff, Lox, whoever, Black Rob
If you wanna dance, we dance
Now trick what? Lace who? That ain't what Mase do
Got a lot of girls that'd love to replace you
Tell you to your face Boo, not behind your back
Niggas talk shit, we never mind that
Funny, never find that, Puff a dime stack
Write hot shit, and make a nigga say, 'Rewind that'
Niggas know, we go against the Harlem Jiggalo
Get'cha hoe, lick her low, make the bitch, hit the do'
I represent honeys with money, fly guys with gems
Drive with the tints that be thirty-five percent
Hoes hope I lay, so I look both ways
Cop says, 'OK,' My tint: Smoke Gray
No way, nigga leave without handin me my shit
Got plans to get my Land and my 6
Niggas outta Pen'll understand this shit
Pop champagne like I won a championship (Uhh, uhh)
Been around the world and I, I, I
And we been playa hated
I don't know, and I don't know why
Why they want us faded
I don't know why they hate us
Is it our ladies?
Or our drop Mercedes?
Baby, baby!
I was in one bedroom, dreamin' of a million (Yeah)
Now, I'm in beach houses, cream to the ceiling (That's right)
I was a gentleman, livin' in tenements
Now I'm swimmin' in, all the women that be tens (Hoo)
Went from Bad Boys to the Crushed Linen Men
Now my dividends be the new Benjamins (Uh-huh)
Hoes of all complexions, I like cinnamon
Mase, you got some hoes? Well, nigga, send em in (C'mon)
What you waitin for, let the freak show begin
How they came in a truck? (Nah, Puff, that's a Benz)
Mercedes, c'mere baby, you don't like the way
It's hot and hazy, never shady, you must be crazy
It's ridiculous how you put your lips on this
Don't kiss right there girlfriend, I'm ticklish (Heheh)
And I be switchin fees with a wrist full of G's
Nigga please, I'm the macaroni with the cheese
Been around the world and I, I, I
And we been playa hated
I don't know, and I don't know why
Why they want us faded
I don't know why they hate us
Is it our ladies?
Or our drop Mercedes?
Baby, baby!
Now, Puff rule the world, even though I'm young
I make it my biz to see that all ladies cum (Yeah)
Get 'em all strung from the tip of my tongue
Lick 'em places niggas wouldn't dare put they faces (C'mon)
Before I die, hope I one day I can float by
In the brand new tres uno ocho
Now when my throat dry, even when the smoke lie
Eat the mami's chocha and drive her loca
We never ride far, packed five in a car
Save money for the drinks, I'm about to buy the bar (Yeah)
And everywhere I drive I'm a star, little kids
All on the corner scream, 'That's my car!'
It was days couldn't be fly, now I'm in a T.I
Come in clubs with B.I., now a nigga V.I. (uh-huh)
Rock tons of gold, 'nuff money I fold
Roll the way you wanna roll, break a hundred out the toe
Been around the world and I, I, I
And we been playa hated
I don't know, and I don't know why
Why they want us faded
I don't know why they hate us
Is it our ladies?
Or our drop Mercedes?
Baby, baby!
Been around the world and I, I, I
And we been playa hated
I don't know, and I don't know why
Why they want us faded
I don't know why they hate us
Is it our ladies?
Or our drop Mercedes?
Baby, baby!
OK, a-after these messages we'll be back with
The Mad Rapper and his brother the Mad Producer, after this
OK, just sit back, relax, and enjoy yourself
We'll get you through this
Take a sip of water, deep breath, that'll do it
And welcome back as you can see (You got the check though?)
I'm Trevor Jones, and I'm sitting in
I've been conversing with the Mad Rapper (Did you get the check though?)
And he's still pretty mad
But, this time he brought someone else with him
And quite frankly (Yeah yeah), he's even madder (You goddamn right!)
Mr. Producer (Yo, you know what I'm sayin'?), why are you so mad?
Yo, I-, I'ma-, I'ma keep it real simple for you
Yeah, t-t-t-t-t-tell them niggas why you mad son!
Tell them niggas why you mad son!
(OK, gentlemen please, one at a time)
Tell em why you mad son, word up, tell em why you mad son!
You know what I'm sayin'? I-, I be-, I be-, I been-
I been-, I been here for the culture, you know what I'm sayin'?
I don't-, I don't-, I don't-, I don't-
I don't be recognizin' all that new jack shit
Yo we don't play, we don't play that shit you know what I'm sayin'?
(Please Mr. Producer, explain yourself, Mr. Rapper, please calm down)
That nigga be on some bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?
We ain't, we don't do that shit, word, yeah
He ain't no real producer neither
And then come to find out you know what I'm sayin'?
My brother hipped me to it, the nigga tryin to rap now!
Oh yeah, that's the shit that got me mad!
(Please, Mr. Rapper, once again)
That's the shit that got me mad!
That's the shit, you know what I'm sayin'?
(It's a family oriented show)
You know what I'm sayin'? That's the shit that feds me up
(Gentlemen, please)
Word up, you know what I'm sayin'?
(Disregard the foul language)
I'm watchin this nigga video you know what I'm sayin'?
They got mermaids swimmin' in they living rooms and shit
Like that you know what I'm sayin'?
This nigga dancin' in the rain with kids climbin' up mountains and shit
You know what I'm sayin'?
I'm- I'm- I'm watchin' this nigga video
(I'm gonna have to ask you to refrain from the language)
The car goin two hundred miles an hour
Where the fuck is he goin'?!
(Please Mr. Rapper, please refrain from the foul language)
The nigga climbin' out the fuckin' car!
Let me see you try that shit on a train!
You know what I'm sayin'? Try that shit on a fuckin' train
What kind of shit, you know what I'm sayin'?
Got a thousand niggas write for him, let me write for you
Son, my shit is jumpin', I got John Blaze shit
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