Ten Crack Commandments - The Notorious B.I.G.

It’s the ten crack commandments, what?

Nigga can’t tell me nothing about this coke

Can’t tell me nothing about this crack, this weed, for my hustlin' niggas

Niggas on the corner I ain’t forget you niggas, my triple beam niggas

I’ve been in this game for years, it made me a animal

There’s rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual

A step-by-step booklet for you to get

Your game on track, not your wig pushed back

Rule Number Uno: never let no one know

How much dough you hold cause you know

The cheddar breed jealousy 'specially

If that man fucked up, get yo' ass stuck up

Number 2: never let 'em know your next move

Don’t you know Bad Boys move in silence and violence?

Take it from your highness (Uh huh)

I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips

Number 3: never trust nobody

Your moms’ll set that ass up, properly gassed up

Hoodied and masked up, shit, for that fast buck

She be laying in the bushes to light that ass up

Number 4: I know you heard this before

«Never get high on your own supply»

Number 5: never sell no crack where you rest at

I don’t care if they want an ounce, tell 'em «bounce!»

Number 6: that goddamn credit?

Dead it

You think a crackhead paying you back, shit forget it!

7: this rule is so underrated

Keep your family and business completely separated

Money and blood don’t mix like two dicks and no bitch

Find yourself in serious shit

Number 8: never keep no weight on you

Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jums too

Number 9 shoulda been Number 1 to me:

If you ain’t gettin' bagged stay the fuck from police

If niggas think you snitchin' they ain’t tryna listen

They be sittin' in your kitchen, waiting to start hittin'

Number 10: a strong word called «consignment»

Strictly for live men, not for freshmen

If you ain’t got the clientele, say «hell no!»

Cause they gon' want they money rain, sleet, hail, snow

Follow these rules you’ll have mad bread to break up

If not, 24 years on the wake up

Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up

Caretaker did your makeup, when you passed

Your girl fucked my man Jacob

Heard in three weeks she sniffed a whole half a cake up

Heard she suck a good dick, and can cook a steak up

Gotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up (Uh)

Crack King, Frank Wiz-zhite