Sportsong of the Week #48

"I got a story to tell"

The Notorious B.I.G.

Produced by Chucky Thompson, Buckwild & Puff Daddy

1997

Sportsong of the Week #48 is on the edge of being a sportsong. But because I like the artist, love the story and it was in the news this week I had to share it with you. It's 'I got a story to tell' by the late Notorious B.I.G.

The song was released posthumously on the album Life After Death in 1997. Since coming out it was a wonder who The Notorious B.I.G. was referring to on 'I Got a Story to Tell.' The song details Biggie's sexual escapades with a certain New York Knicks player's girlfriend. It had rap fans scratching their heads for decades as to who Biggie's foe was.

Then Fat Joe revealed the story this week. It was about the girl of the late Anthony Mason. Fat Joe was close to both Biggie and Anthony Mason, who died last year from congestive heart failure. He would party with Mason and the other basketball players in the clubs during Mason's five-season stint with the Knicks.

Biggie had a story to tell and now it's all out. Made me smile!

RIP Biggie and Anthony Mason

Full Lyrics 'I got a story to tell' - The Notorious B.I.G.

[Intro] Who y'all talkin to man? Uhh Check it out, check it out This here goes out To all the niggas that be fuckin mad bitches In other niggas cribs Thinkin shit is sweet Nigga creep up on your ass, hahaha Live niggas respect it, check it [Verse 1] I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya Even left all my motherfuckin hoes for ya Niggas think Frankie pussy whipped, nigga picture that With a Kodak, Insta-ma-tak We don't get down like that, lay my game down quite flat Sweetness, where you parked at? Petiteness but that ass fat She got a body make a nigga wanna eat that, I'm fuckin with you The bitch official doe, dick harder than a missile yo Try to hit, if she trippin disappearin like Arsenio Yo, the bitch push a double-oh With the five in front, probably a connivin stunt Y'all drive in front, I'm a peel with her Find the deal with her, she fuck around and steal, huh? Then we all get laced Television's, Versace heaven, when I'm up in em The shit she kicked, all the shit's legit She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks Nigga tricked ridiculous, the shit was plush She's stressin me to fuck, like she was in a rush We fucked in his bed, quite dangerous I'm in his ass while he playin gainst the Utah Jazz My 112, CD blast, I was past She came twice I came last, roll the grass She giggle, sayin' "I'm smokin' on home-grown" Then I heard the moan, "honey I'm home!" Yep, tote chrome for situations like this I'm up in his broad I know he won't like this Now I'm like, "Bitch, you better talk to him Before this fifth put a spark to him Fuck around shit get dark to him, put a part through him Lose a major part to him, arm, leg." She beggin me to stop but this cat gettin closer Gettin hot like a toaster, I cocks the toast, uhh Before my eyes could blink She screams out, "Honey bring me up somethin to drink!" He go back downstairs more time to think Her brain racin, she's tellin me to stay patient She don't know I'm, cool as a fan Gat in hand, I don't wanna blast her man But I can and I will though, I probably chill though Even though situation lookin' kinda ill yo It came to me like a song I wrote Told the bitch, "Gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope." Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face Roped the bitch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase Play the cut, nigga comin off some love potion shit Flash the heat on 'em, he stood emotionless Dropped the glass screamin, "Don't blast here's the stash A hundred cash just don't shoot my ass, please!" Nigga pullin mad G's out the floor Put stacks in a Prada knapsack, hit the door Grab the keys to the five, call my niggas on the cell "Bring some weed I got a story to tell, uhh" [Outro] Yo man, y'all niggas ain't gonna believe what the fuck happened to me. Remember that bitch I left the club with man? Yo, freaky yo. I'm up in this bitch playa this bitch fuckin' run them ol' Knick ass niggas and shit. I'm up in the spot though. One of them six-five niggas, I don't know. Anyway I'm up in the motherfuckin spot. So boom I'm up in the pussy, whatever whatever. I sparks up some lah, Pop Duke creeps up in on some, must have been rained out or something because he's in the spot. Had me scared, had me scared, I was shook, Daddy - but I forget I had my Roscoe on me. Always. You know how we do. So anyway the nigga comes up the stairs, he creepin up the steps, the bitch all shook she sends the nigga back downstairs to get some drinks and shit. She gettin mad nervous, I said fuck that man! I'm the nigga, you know how we do it, nigga, ransom note style put the scarf around my motherfuckin face. Gagged that bitch up, played the kizzack. Soon this nigga comes up in the spot, flash the Desert in his face he drops the glass. Looked like the nigga pissed on his-self or somethin, word to mother! Ahh fuck it. This nigga runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet, start givin me mad papers, mad papers. (I told you that bitch was a shiesty bitch cuz! Word to mother I used to fuck her cousin but you ain't know that! You wouldn't know that shit. Really though.) I threw all that motherfuckin money up in the Prada knapsack. Two words, I'm gone! (No doubt, no doubt... no doubt!) Yo nigga got some lye, y'all got some lye? *conversation fades out*