(feat. P. Diddy, Eminem, Obie Trice)    [Eminem + {B.I.G.}]  Ih.. ih, ih (it has been)  It has been, it has been, it has been  It has been said, that there has been known to be bloodshed  Over bread, men who have bled to death, dead {what?}  Strapped to beds, pipe bombs, dynamite, lead  Money power respect, street cred, yeah  It's scary ain't it? Picture yourself goin out as a hero {uhh}  Picture mural pictures of us painted all over street corners  Fans meet to mourn us, while we meet the coroners  Notorious tried to warn us  We watched, so many Biggie backed off of {ha ha ha}  Biggie's back and 'Pac's, landmarks, history in rap  Statistically in fact; it's so sad to see us re-enact  these tragic events, which lead us back  To where we left off on March 9th  To come from such hard knock lifes  And make it up out of 'em, hit the spotlights  And, once they're on us this is our lives  Thrust out for all eyes to cast upon us  to see who can last the longest  And he who lasts the longest, must be the strongest {uh-huh}  In this concrete jungle, where this dog eat dog mentality comes from  It's origin, which is usually originated from cats who starvin  Or it could just be somebody's horror, that just horri-fies  And applies to his persona or the sizes  in his entou-rage, that intimidates the people  To the point that you know that he's gangster  He ain't just say shit, you just believe it    [Obie Trice + {B.I.G.}]  Since B.I.B. taught us niggaz to think big  I'm been about my business since then, so anxious {what?}  It ain't how we live, it's what he said, he did it for Brooklyn  This I took in, sent chills through my skin  Vicious, I'm experiencin the same sights as him  It's what excited Obie to write these poems  Rollin, goin through the same shit he spoken  Open up my eyes so there's no limit in them skies  When _Ready to Die_ was a sick part of my life {yeah}  Palmin that forty-five, plottin to pop my mind  Then that crooked eye Jamaican I'd so many times rewind  Got me to walk a straight line and get up on my grind  Get up out the system, who could give him better signs  No pop of mine could top Big Poppa rhymes  So possibly I'd be popular huh? {uh-huh}  That's the inspiration I got from my nigga B.I.    [Diddy + {B.I.G.}]  I took him from coal to diamond, I molded his mind  Enter the most phenomenal artist of any and all time  I made a Frankenstein, my design impressed  Backpackers and press who said my house was a mess  Critics lashed, said I made a fortune off of his passin {what?}  All I did was build a dynasty, off of his passion  And I'm addressin the adolesencents absent to who he is  The original king of New York, Christopher Wallace...  This is a promise on Diddy's honor, I'm a father T'Yanna  And teach her that with all the drama don't even bother...  On repeat, all of your albums play back to back {yeah}  And I visit your grave cause our friendship's intact  An immaculate concept, extravagant progress  Bullet wounds left in my heart, I'm yellin "God bless"  Regardless to critics yellin that East/West  I seen the game losin, I'm just pressin the reset {uhh}  And when the ressurection of you shines through an individual  Lyrical enough to wear the same crown of thorns literally!  I'ma pay homage, Brooklyn's finest  Whether it's Queens or Harlem it'll be instant stardom, nigga!