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the notorious b.i.g. ft. 112 - sky's the limit |
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i don't need to fight. i'm hood rich. but i love it. i want to do something big in boxing, add a little spark to it, a little more flavor. my goal is to win three championships in three weight classes. i want to fight all the champs; they are all too comfortable. the real hunger ain't there no more, like the last fighting days of De La Hoya. i'd love to take Oscar tho, first, Mosley, Cotto, and then Mayweather. and, yeah, Zab Judah is also a great fighter. fast hands, fast feet. but i have all that, plus power and the head to outsmart him like it was a game of chess. i want Zab at The Garden, a good new york fight. brooklyn vs south beach. i even offered to go down to 140 to fight the prince, but he didn't bite. he wanted me to drop to 130. i guess he's a diamond and has to be protected. bitch ass nigga. street fighting, and well, boxing is a dangerous sport. i know that in a second it could all be gone. so i always stay alert. i'm not afraid of much, but i'm scared of losing. that's why i train so hard in anything that i do: i do not want to lose. the day i don't want to get up to jog in the morning, or head to the gym, is the day i've got to get out. but i'll continue to grind and fight until i reach my goals. if i hit it in two years, i'll stop. i've got enough money, bitches layin' up under me, homies that got my back, and my business to fall back on.. oh and most importantly... i've got family.
i was raised by women, so my pops used to call me a sissy, soft. he wanted me to be a man. when i was nine or ten, he'd give neighborhood kids $20 to fight me. he'd say: "hey, come here, yo. kick my son's butt." and i'd be like, "aw, man!" but he was smart, he always got guys smaller than me. and i'd take them out, bang bang: when things got too rough, he'd stop us. my father's a character. we see each other a lot, we talk on the phone, we laugh. he's my best friend, my buddy, nah'mean. but pops was a bad boy in his time. and he always bring it up; you know how the old folks say, "back in my day...." i was always around it all, but wasnt' a part of it until my teen years. he was hot, and he capitalized on that. he enjoyed the good ol' days, and he lived it out. but when i was younger, i was shy, and i just wanted to get away. the whole? i was just not into that until......... yeah. i learned from watching my father getting caught up in a bad crowd, and learned that real men moved in silence, for those of you who know what i mean? good. for any of ya'll that don't? don't pay any mind. but after each day, good or bad, after a fight, a game, hustlin, fuckin a bitch or two, i go home to my people. my fam'. i might be an asshole, complex, bi-polar on some days, flashy, and ignorant as fuck, but i've learned to be humble, and most important: i'm fuckin' real. but all in all; i want it all, to make it, to prove my haters wrong, to win, to get it; for me and my father.
"sky's the limit, motherfucker. see you chumps on top."
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