Made my road to riches from 62’s, gem stars, my mom’s dishes. Flipping coke in corner store bodegas-buy the coke, cook the coke, cut it. I’m 13, smoking blunts, making cream on the drug scene. I learned a lot from junkies: Some use pipes, others use injections. Until I started hustlin' on Fulton Street. Lying to my mother, even stealing out her purse. Used to steal clothes, snatch chains, pocketbooks. Niggas had Gazelle shades-I’m that nigga with the fake shirts, sewing tigers and alligators on. I had two pair of Lees: The pinstripes and the gray I wore on Mondays and Wednesdays. Where the cash at? Mom Dukes ain’t giving me shit. See me in the streets, be like, “Yo, he nice.” Pass the microphone, I’m the perfect competitor. I been had skills, competition ripper since 13. Drop lyrics off and on like a lightswitch, guaranteed to make your head rock. Sitting in my room like Brandy, I used to read Word Up! Magazine, hangin' pictures on my wall. Fuck a football team: Running ain’t in my protocol. Teachers told me I’d never amount to nothing. I was a terror since the public school era: Bathroom passes, cutting classes, squeezing asses. My one-room shack, no heat-the landlord dissed us. Dope fiend, crack fiend, eyewitness news team. Seeing syringes in veins, bodies with the motherfucking chalk around it. Eating no-frills cereals with food stamps, five-cent gums, sardines for dinner. Not knowing where your meal’s coming from. The doctor said, “He’s going to be a bad boy!” I wish moms would hurry up, umbilical cord’s wrapped around my neck. Then came May 21st, 1970-something-nigga, I don’t sweat the date. 10 months in this gut, what the fuck?! I know my mother wished she got a fucking abortion. Pop Duke left Mom Duke, disappearing act.

I been dangerous since my daddy bust me out the tip of his dick.

Get hooked on this Biggie Smalls phonics. Stories like a motherfucker: More drugs than a pharmacy, so-called beef with you-know-who. Listen, to the words I’m slippin' through saliva, understand how one fly nigga became a man. Honeys call me “Bigga the Condom Filler.” How’s everybody doing tonight? I got a story to tell. Click each line to reveal the source of each Biggie quote. In remembrance of the hip-hop icon, Genius scavenged through Biggie’s short but street discography to assemble his life story using only his lyrics ( as we also recently did for Kanye). While the G.O.A.T.-level rapper’s life was tragically cut short on March 9, 1997, Big explicitly documented his 24 years through his rhymes, all while representing BK to the fullest.

Notorious 19