Most of Biggie's money these days comes from live shows; he's been touring steadily throughout the past year, picking up $20,000 per performance. "Big understands what he has to do, and being on the road is part of that," says Hawk, who grew up down the block from Big and is now his road manager. Biggie rolls with a tight crew of seven or eight, whom he considers "family." It's a good thing they're so tight, because life on the road-shady promoters, broken-down tour buses, weed shortages, and too much McDonald's-can get hectic.

Big doesn't do much to prepare for this evening's concert in Raleigh, N.C.-besides maybe smoking a few blunts. Wearing navy blue Sergio Tacchini track pants and no shirt, he's watching TV with Little Kim, the fly female MC from Junior M.A.F.I.A. (Big's longtime partners and protégés). Although she calls herself Big Momma on "Player's Anthem," Kim, who's actually slim and petite, is concerned that Big Poppa may be a little too big.

"I've never thought about losing weight," says Biggie.

"I just want you to be healthy," Kim pleads, laughing.

"Healthy, schmealthy. How much you think I should weigh?"

"A hundred and eighty," she says. But when the six-foot-three MC lets her know his weight (315 pounds), Kim reconsiders.

"Two hundred, then. I didn't know you weighed that much."

It's after 11 p.m. when Big, now wearing a custom-made 5001 Flavors linen suit, steps onstage at Club Rhythms. The stage is actually outdoors, facing a forest, a fence, and 500 fans standing on gravel, ready to go wild. By Big's side are Little Ceasar (from Junior M.A.F.I.A.), Money-L (the hype man), and D-Rock (his right-hand man), who's videotaping the show. And there's a lot to capture: girls in front rubbing their titties during "Player's Anthem," kids sitting in trees outside the club pumping their fists, and chaos when 200 one-dollar bills are thrown into the audience during "Gimme the Loot." (Biggie used to throw the money himself until he lost a $5,000 ring Faith gave him.)

After the concert, more than two dozen cars play follow-the-white-stretch-limousine. At the hotel, Big rushes to his room while his crew wait to see who's in the cars. A few girls in evening gowns make their way inside. "I don't want him to think we came to do the do-it," says one autograph seeker. After standing around for a while, she and her crew decide he ain't coming out. They leave, but some scantily clad girls linger.