In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
Uh, uh, check it out (yeah), uh
Junior M.A.f.i.a., uh (hehe, mm)
Uh (I like this) yeah, yeah
Nine-fo' (keep bangin')
To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
Allow me to lace these lyrical douches, in your bushes (uh)
Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies
The back of the club, sippin' Moet, is where you'll find me (what?)
The back of the club, mackin' hoes, my crew's behind me (uh)
Mad question askin', blunt passin', music blastin'
But I just can't quit
Because one of these honies Biggie gots ta creep with
Sleep with, keep the ep a secret, why not
Why blow up my spot 'cause we both got hot?
Now check it, I got more Mack than Craig and in the bed
Believe me sweetie I got enough to feed the needy
No need to be greedy I got mad friends with Benz's
C-notes by the layers, true fuckin' players (uh)
Jump in the Rover and come over
Tell your friends jump in the GS3
I got the chronic by the tree, 'cause
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Throw your hands in the air, if you's a true player
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
To the honies gettin' money playin' niggas like dummies
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Ya got a gun up in your waist, please don't shoot up the place (why?)
'Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be havin' my baby (uh), baby (uh)
Straight up honey really I'm askin'
Most of these niggas think they be mackin', but they be actin'
Who they attractin' with that line, "What's your name, what's your sign?"
Soon as he buy that wine I just creep up from behind
And ask what your interests are, who you be with
Things to make you smile, what numbers to dial
You gon' be here for a while, I'm gon' go call my crew
You go call your crew
We can rendezvous at the bar around two
Plans to leave, throw the keys to 'Lil Cease
Pull the truck up, front, and roll up the next blunt
So we can steam on the way to the telly go fill my belly
A t-bone steak, cheese eggs and Welch's grape
Conversate for a few, 'cause in a few, we gon' do
What we came to do, ain't that right boo (true)
Forget the telly we just go to the crib
And watch a movie in the jacuzzi smoke L's while you do me
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Throw your hands in the air, if you's a true player
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
To the honies gettin' money playin' niggas like dummies, uh
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Ya got a gun up in your waist, please don't shoot up the place (why?)
'Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be havin' my baby, baby (uh)
(How ya livin' Biggie Smalls?)
In mansion and Benz's givin' ends to my friends and it feels stupendous
Tremendous cream, fuck a dollar and a dream
Still tote gats strapped with infrared beams (what?)
Choppin O's, smokin' lye an' Optimo's
Money hoes and clothes all a nigga knows (all a nigga knows)
A foolish pleasure, whatever
I had to find the buried treasure (for what?), So grams I had to measure
However living better now, Gucci sweater now
Drop top BM's, I'm the man girlfriend
Honey check it (check it)
Tell your friends, to get with my friends (your friends)
And we can be friends
Shit we can do this every weekend (that's right)
Aight? Is that aight with you?
Yeah, keep bangin'
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Throw your hands in the air, if you's a true player
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
To the honies gettin' money playin' niggas like dummies, uh
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Ya got a gun up in your waist, please don't shoot up the place (why?)
'Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be havin' my baby, baby (uh)
Check it out, nine-fo' shit for dat ass, uh
Puff Daddy, Biggie Smalls, Junior M.A.F.I.A, represent baby, baby, uh
Junior M.A.f.i.a., uh (hehe, mm)
Uh (I like this) yeah, yeah
Nine-fo' (keep bangin')
To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
Allow me to lace these lyrical douches, in your bushes (uh)
Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies
The back of the club, sippin' Moet, is where you'll find me (what?)
The back of the club, mackin' hoes, my crew's behind me (uh)
Mad question askin', blunt passin', music blastin'
But I just can't quit
Because one of these honies Biggie gots ta creep with
Sleep with, keep the ep a secret, why not
Why blow up my spot 'cause we both got hot?
Now check it, I got more Mack than Craig and in the bed
Believe me sweetie I got enough to feed the needy
No need to be greedy I got mad friends with Benz's
C-notes by the layers, true fuckin' players (uh)
Jump in the Rover and come over
Tell your friends jump in the GS3
I got the chronic by the tree, 'cause
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Throw your hands in the air, if you's a true player
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
To the honies gettin' money playin' niggas like dummies
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Ya got a gun up in your waist, please don't shoot up the place (why?)
'Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be havin' my baby (uh), baby (uh)
Straight up honey really I'm askin'
Most of these niggas think they be mackin', but they be actin'
Who they attractin' with that line, "What's your name, what's your sign?"
Soon as he buy that wine I just creep up from behind
And ask what your interests are, who you be with
Things to make you smile, what numbers to dial
You gon' be here for a while, I'm gon' go call my crew
You go call your crew
We can rendezvous at the bar around two
Plans to leave, throw the keys to 'Lil Cease
Pull the truck up, front, and roll up the next blunt
So we can steam on the way to the telly go fill my belly
A t-bone steak, cheese eggs and Welch's grape
Conversate for a few, 'cause in a few, we gon' do
What we came to do, ain't that right boo (true)
Forget the telly we just go to the crib
And watch a movie in the jacuzzi smoke L's while you do me
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Throw your hands in the air, if you's a true player
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
To the honies gettin' money playin' niggas like dummies, uh
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Ya got a gun up in your waist, please don't shoot up the place (why?)
'Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be havin' my baby, baby (uh)
(How ya livin' Biggie Smalls?)
In mansion and Benz's givin' ends to my friends and it feels stupendous
Tremendous cream, fuck a dollar and a dream
Still tote gats strapped with infrared beams (what?)
Choppin O's, smokin' lye an' Optimo's
Money hoes and clothes all a nigga knows (all a nigga knows)
A foolish pleasure, whatever
I had to find the buried treasure (for what?), So grams I had to measure
However living better now, Gucci sweater now
Drop top BM's, I'm the man girlfriend
Honey check it (check it)
Tell your friends, to get with my friends (your friends)
And we can be friends
Shit we can do this every weekend (that's right)
Aight? Is that aight with you?
Yeah, keep bangin'
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Throw your hands in the air, if you's a true player
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
To the honies gettin' money playin' niggas like dummies, uh
(I love it when you call me Big Poppa)
Ya got a gun up in your waist, please don't shoot up the place (why?)
'Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be havin' my baby, baby (uh)
Check it out, nine-fo' shit for dat ass, uh
Puff Daddy, Biggie Smalls, Junior M.A.F.I.A, represent baby, baby, uh
Lyrics submitted by spliphstar
Big Poppa Lyrics as written by Christopher Jasper O'kelly Isley
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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I can not believe most of the comments for this song consist of hardball. This is a classic, the way he masters the art of rhyme and flow. Get the *** out of here.