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+
+**************************************************
+7 Minute Freestyle[Production by Mufi]
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Yo, I got slugs for snitches, no love for bitches
+Puttin' thugs in ditches when my trigger finger itches
+I got a rep that make police jet, known to get a priest wet
+I never beg for pussy like Keith Sweat
+Is Big L slow? Hell no!
+Bitches get fucked on the roof when I ain't got no hotel dough;
+I'm known for yokin' Jacks
+And beatin' them with smokin' gats
+Leavin' token Blacks with broken backs and open caps
+So with that bullshit, step to the rear, son
+The last thing you want with Big L is a fair one
+'Cause in a street brawl I strike men like lightnin'
+You seen what happened in my last fight, friend? Aight then
+I beat kids with lead pipes, I leave trails of dead mic's
+Where I'm from, niggas jewels get ran like red lights
+Old folks get mugged and raided, crimes are drug-related
+And we live by the street rules that thugs created
+Clowns get smoked about a thousand folks
+Sellin' pounds of coke
+Front in this town and get a TEC stuck down your throat
+I'm tellin' you shit is about to get drastic soon
+I'm quick to blast a goon
+And break a mothafucker like a plastic spoon
+I got the looks that make your hottie stare
+I keep a shotty near
+It's that nigga with knotty hair who Gotti fear
+Tracks I'm known to roast until the microphone is ghost
+Props I own the most, I'm leavin' niggas comatose
+Front and get your brain pinched
+Big L will have your whole gang lynched
+I started smokin' dust and been insane since
+This rap shit was a great gift
+The other night some snake riffed, and got a hot lead facelift
+All through high school I had braids, I kept mad blades
+Stabbin' teachers to death that gave me bad grades
+I cook the mic like a beef steak, 'cause my technique's great
+And I'm the nigga police hate in each state
+'Cause I'm the neighborhood lamper
+Punk brother vamper; fuck around
+You'll find my silk boxers in your mother's hamper
+Cops drop when my Glock makes a pow sound
+I'm from a wild town
+You know my style, clown, so bow down!
+[Interlude: Big L + JAY-Z]
+Word up (say what?)
+'95 style (yeah)
+I got my man JAY-Z here (JAY-Z!)
+Check it out now…
+Check it, check it, check it out now
+
+[Verse 2: JAY-Z]
+Brothers can beg and borrow, still feel sorrow
+When Jay Z, like Zorro, get in that ass, better luck tomorrow
+I'm too much, nigga, so never should you rush
+You need slow down or get yo' ass tore down
+Check it out, I'm too cocky, to stop me you gotta kill me
+And when I'm gone, you can still feel me, on the real, B
+The shit is eternal, I rock the heavens well
+Even if they won't let me in Heaven, I raise hell
+'Til it's Heaven; recognize, the black cat with the nine lives
+Get up off me, nigga, it's bad luck to cross me
+I'm poppin' Crystal, shootin' game like missiles
+As projected, all hoes affected by this style
+I mack like Goldie, go back like the oldie
+But the goody, pullin' R&B bitches, wearin' hoodies
+They don't be knowin' the way I be flowin'
+When I be goin' I be runnin' the track like Jesse Owens
+I disrupt the natural scheme
+The way that you do things with a swing
+And have 'em rockin' like…
+You say never you run, if ever you come
+It's never you run so fast in your life to never have won
+Come on and ride the rhythm, I produce like jizm
+Just like the gods I start with knowledge
+And follow with wisdom
+For greater understandin', I'm landin' blows
+And knockin' sense into those that oppose me
+Enticin' when slicin' through tracks
+You're screamin': "Jesus Christ, he's back!"
+And God knows he can rap
+Me and L put rhythm on the map, so give him his dap
+And me, I just take mine
+Gimme those, gimme this, gimme that—fuck that!
+You never see me stressed, in a GS
+On the prize, my greedy eyes can't see no less
+Jigga incredible, even my thoughts is federal
+Like kidnapping, extortion and corruption
+So you know, beatin' me will never come
+Like a nun or tomorrow; I'm too thorough, nigga
+I make moves, cause bowels to move
+When I'm creepin' through your way
+With a thousand little dudes
+Armed with a piece like Islam
+I make your eyes rise like yeast
+Surprise, I feel no fear when facing y'all
+Bet your lyrics jump off the track like racing cars
+Emcee's tryin' to be the best
+And even in dyin' couldn't be this def
+I see no reason to stop cheesin'
+Ever since L said, "Throw three G's in!"
+And we can get down and split the wealth
+That's when I found I could do it myself, I get up…
+[Interlude: JAY-Z + Big L]
+Yeah, word life (Big L, try that mic out!)
+Yeah, yeah, yeah (back to Big L)
+(Let's get it, back to Big L!)
+Yo, one two, one two, aight?
+I'll drop one more joint, aight, check it out
+I ain't do this in a while, check it out
+One two, one two, check it out
+One two, check it
+
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+Ayo, my crew be deliverin' hot lead when gats are clenched
+Rappers I jack and lynch; nobody can fuck with the way
+I be killin' them shits in rap events
+Big L is the nigga you expect
+To catch wreck on any cassette deck
+I'm so ahead of my time my parents haven't met yet
+I'm feelin' like Billy Bathgate
+My rap style is past great
+I love to fuck a bitch from the back and watch her ass shake
+I probly got your mommy strung
+Niggas hear me and take more notes than Connie Chung
+My clan plans to get Giuliani hung
+Never had a gassed head, got loot 'cause I stash bread
+Try to tax and I'ma beat your faggot-ass half-dead
+I stomp white cops 'til they life stops, for a low price, hops
+'Cause my blood is colder than an ice box
+On 1-3-9 you don't want a block war
+'Cause my crew'll kill a nigga from the lobby to the top floor
+And every time my MAC-11 bucks
+I'm killin' at least seven ducks
+I never was a follower of Reverend Butts
+The bitch type I dislike, I'm rougher than a fist fight
+All chicks ain't shit, ain't no such thing as Ms. Right
+So we can never be a couple, hun
+Fuck love! All I got for hoes is hard dick and bubble gum
+And clown MC's I be attackin' quick
+I'm on some rappin' shit and some car-jackin' shit
+I ran up on this nigga name Mac in a black Ac'
+And put the gat to his cap, click-clack
+Sorry, Jack, but get up out of that!
+My .38 works great, so make a mistake and hesitate
+I can't wait to demonstrate this nickel plate
+He didn't listen to what I was speakin'; he started reachin'
+So I left him sleepin' with his temple leakin'
+[Interlude: Big L + JAY-Z]
+Aight, back to my man JAY-Z
+One time
+Check it out, uh
+
+[Verse 4: JAY-Z]
+As soon as I grab it, I eat it up like a savage
+And no I don't have it
+I get it together like a marriage
+I'm seekin' all rappers, I'm on my P's and Q's and carrots
+Y'all don't understand, well
+Goddamn, don't you know my status?
+I'm flowin' the fattest
+Mmm that is, mmm, I'm the baddest
+No need to explain, my name the only thing that matters
+For suckers who bite me, they find I'm a bit much to swallow
+You're thinkin' that's hollow
+The rhythm is too r-rugged to follow
+It hit you like bam, biggity bam, bam, biggity bam
+Let me take a little breath… goddamn
+The kid is a wizard
+I'm definitely destined to make eight digits
+Met up with L on the road to riches
+As soon as I step up, nah, whenever I'm in the
+Uh, whatever I touch, whatever I clutch
+You know I'm gonna end ya
+Uh, the nigga don't play, hey, the nigga don't play, hey
+Hahahhhh, here I come a-g-g-gain, run, up up up in
+Niggas are du-do-duckin', I'm bo-bo-buckin, fuck it
+I'm wild, but a boo boo boo bam
+What you niggas gonna do to the man?
+I see you brought your little crew… and?
+I'm still comin' with velocity
+Check it out, Jid-a, id-a, wid-I, zid-e, uh huh
+Ain't none of these clowns fuckin' around
+Ain't none of these clowns standin' their ground
+With the crown prince of the underground
+Sounds like I'm ready to catch wreck now
+The heats on sweat now
+JAY-Z's on, be gone to the next town
+Punk, jump up and get beat down
+Check it out, check it out, check it out
+Ladies be comin' out of their seats now
+Shit, I got crazy skills, it's a pity the way I'm rippin'
+Rugged rhythm through the city
+Like dunnanna dunnanna di-di-dun dun ditty
+I got rhythm, I hit 'em with rhythm, I
+Hit 'em and split 'em, I did 'em, I get rid of them guys
+J-A, baby, baby please, gimme G's
+Baby, baby, with crazy ease, watch JAY-Z get crazy G'sEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Put It On[Intro: Kid Capri]
+Hey, hey, hey
+Come on, come on, come on, come on
+Come on, come on, come on, come on
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Ayo, you better flee hops, or get your head flown three blocks
+L keep rappers' hearts pumpin' like Reeboks
+And every year I gain clout and my name sprouts
+Some brothers'd still be virgins if crack never came out
+I got the wild style, always been a foul child
+My guns go "BOOM BOOM!" and yo' guns go "pow pow"
+I'm known to have a hottie open
+I keep the shotty smokin'
+Front, and get half the bones in your body broken
+And when it comes to gettin' nookie I'm not a rookie
+I got girls that make that chick Toni Braxton look like Whoopi
+I run with sturdy cliques
+I'm never hittin' dirty chicks
+Got thirty-five bodies, buddy, don't make it thirty-six
+Step to this, you're good as gone
+Word is bond, I leave mics torn when I put it on
+
+[Chorus: Kid Capri]
+So put it on, Big L, put it on!
+Come on, put it onnn, and onnn, and onnn!
+Come on, put it on, Big L, put it on!
+Come on, put it on, represent, put it on, Come on!
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Nobody can take nothin' from Big L but a loss, chief
+The last punk who fronted got a mouth full of false teeth
+I'm known to gas a hottie and blast a shotty
+Got more cash than Gotti
+(You don't know?) you better ask somebody
+Big L is a crazy brother, and I'm a lady lover
+A smooth kid that'll run up in your baby mother
+I push a slick Benz, I'm known to hit skins
+And get ends and commit sins with sick friends
+'Cause I'm a money getter, also a honey hitter
+You think you nice as me? Haha, you's a funny nigga
+I flows, so one of my shows wouldn't be clever to miss
+I'm leavin' competitors pissed
+To tell you the truth, it gets no better than this
+I'm catchin' wreck to the break of dawn
+In this song, yo, it's a must that I put it on
+
+[Chorus: Kid Capri]
+Yeah, so put it on, Big L, put it on!
+C'mon, put it onnn, big fella, put it on and on!
+Put it on, Big L!
+Put it on, represent!
+Put it on, c'mon, put it on!
+
+[Bridge: Patois Chatta]
+Some boys see me gun nozzle and take a we fi joke
+Boy, you gwan dead before you see me gun smoke
+See me gun nozzle and take me fi joke
+You gwan dead from a me you provoke
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+I drink Moët, not Beck's beer, I stay dressed in slick gear
+Peace to my homies in the gangsta lean, I see you when I get there
+And it's a fact I keep a gat in my arm reach
+I charm freaks and bomb geeks from here to Palm Beach
+I'm puttin' rappers in the wheelchair
+Big L is the villain you still fear
+'Cause I be hangin' in Harlem and shit is for real here
+If you battle L you picked the wrong head
+I smash mics like cornbread
+You can't kill me, I was born dead
+And I'm known to pull steel trigs and kill pigs
+I run with ill kids and real nigs who peel wigs
+My rap's steady slammin', I keep a heavy cannon
+It's a new sheriff in town and it ain't Reggie Hammond
+Peace to my peoples, the Children of the Corn
+'Cause we put it on, adiós, ghost, I'm gone
+
+[Chorus: Kid Capri]
+So put it on, Big L, put it on!
+C'mon, put it on, big fella put it on and onnn!
+Big L, you gotta put it on and on!
+Put it on, Big L put it on ond on!
+Word up, knahmsayin?
+My man Big L, runnin' things for the nine-four
+And nine-oh-s, you know what I mean?
+It's the Kid Capri, in full flair
+And we gon' put it on a little somethin' like this
+Big L, c'mon!
+[Outro: Big L & (Kid Capri)]
+Lord Finesse (He be puttin' it on)
+My man Buckwild (He be puttin' it on and on)
+My man Fat Joe (He be puttin' it on)
+Showbiz and A.G. (Yeah, they be puttin' it on and on)
+I can’t forget Diamond D (He be puttin' it on)
+The whole D.I.T.C. (Yeah, they be puttin' it on and on)
+And of course Kid Capri (Yeah, I be puttin' it on)
+The whole N.Y.C. (Yeah, we be puttin' it on and on)
+And I’m outEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+’98 Freestyle[Verse 1]
+Yo, fuck all the glamours and glitz, I plan to get rich
+I'm from New York and never was a fan of the Knicks
+And I'm all about expanding my chips
+You mad 'cause I was in the van with your bitch
+With both hands on her tits
+Corleone hold the throne, that you know in your heart
+I got style plus the way that I be flowing is sharp
+A while back, I used to hustle, selling blow in the park
+Counting G stacks and rocking ice that glow in the dark
+Forever hottie hunting
+Trigger temper, I'm quick to body something
+You looking at me like I'm probably fronting
+I fuck around and throw three in your chest and flee to my rest
+I'm older and smarter, this is me at my best
+I stopped hanging around y'all
+'Cause niggas like you be praying on my downfall
+Hoping I flop, hoping I stop
+You probably even hope I get locked
+Or be on the street corner with a pipe, smoking the rock
+I got more riches than you, fuck more bitches than you
+Only thing I haven't got is more stitches than you
+Fucking punk, you ain't a leader, what? Nobody followed you
+You was never shit, your mother should've swallowed you
+You on some tag-along, flunky yes-man shit
+Do me a favor; please get off the next man dick
+And if you think I can't fuck with whoever, put your money up
+Put your jewels up, no, fuck it, put your honey up
+Put your raggedy house up, nigga, or shut your mouth up
+Before I buck lead and make a lot of blood shed
+Turn your tux red, I'm far from broke, got enough bread
+And mad hoes, ask Beavis, I get nothing Butthead
+My game is vicious and cruel, fucking chicks is a rule
+If my girl think I'm loyal, then that bitch is a fool
+How come? You can listen to my first album
+And tell where a lot of niggas got they whole style from
+So what you acting for?
+You ain't half as raw, you need to practice more
+Somebody tell this nigga something, 'fore I crack his jaw
+You running with boys, I'm running with men
+I'mma be ripping the mics until I'm a hundred and ten
+Have y'all niggas like "Dammit, this nigga done done it again"
+I throw slugs at idiots, no love for city cops
+I sport a pretty watch, eight-hundred and fifty rocks
+I'm making wonderful figures
+I don't fuck with none of you niggas
+I might pull out this gun on your niggas
+And rob every last one of you niggas
+[Verse 2]
+Aight, let me kick some more shit, one more time
+(Yeah-yeah… Spit, some more) - Bobbito
+Aight, check it out, yeah, check it out
+Yeah, check it out, yeah, check it out
+Uhh, check it out, aight, check it out
+Aight, we gone hit it like this, check it out
+Yo, check it, yo, my shit is hot like jerk chicken
+I should rob you, but with that cheap shit, you ain’t worth stickin'
+I’ve got a left hook that be leaving guys knocked out
+Keep fronting and I'mma choke you till your eyes pop out
+I was taught that if a nigga swing, swing right back
+Battle Corleone, why do a stupid thing like that?
+Yo, I’m not in the mood, son, so don’t push me tonight
+Plus I fucked your little sister and that pussy was right
+That pussy was tight — gripping my dick like a pair of pliers
+You fucking snitch; right now you prolly wearing wires
+It’s not a joke, so as soon as he laugh
+I’mma strip him naked and stick a long broom in his ass
+Leave him heart-broken, make him quit rap and start smoking
+My album is done, so no, there ain't no parts open
+I’m not a sweet stud, I’m a street thug
+That’s quick to beat a nigga like a cheap rug till he leak blood
+You sure soft, watched you fall off, might slide your whore off
+Then call all off, and tear your jaw off
+My life is far out, I got star clout
+Every week, bring a different car out
+Go to clubs and buy the bar out
+You ain’t a player, put that cigar out
+Take that suit off, before I shoot off, and tear your roof off
+Leave your clothes bloody-red like the nose of Rudolph
+I rocked many stages and never got booed off
+I might let this gat burst, put you in a big black hearse
+For that wack verse, should have tried these other cats first
+'Cause none of y'all niggas can fuck with me
+And if your man wanna join, I got McGruff with me
+We puff much izzy
+I do shit that only tough men do
+And them cats you with—fuck them too, I’ll buck them too
+Be careful what you rush into, you lame-ass nigga
+No dough, always on the train-ass nigga
+Canal Street, 10-karat-chain-ass nigga
+You got fucked upstate, you cupcake
+How many dicks can your butt take?
+I ran through every bitch in my path
+I was fucking chicks in the ass when I was six-and-a-half
+Yo, I’mma take you out your misery
+And after this, nigga
+Put you in the social study book 'cause you’re historyEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Deadly Combination (Remix)[Intro: 2Pac]
+Yeah, nigga, yeah
+That’s right, baby
+This how we do it
+
+[Verse 1: 2Pac]
+Follow me, tell me if you feel me
+I think niggas is tryin' to kill me
+Picturin' pistols spittin' hollow points 'til they drill me
+Keepin' it real, and even if I do conceal
+My criminal thoughts, preoccupied with keepin' steel
+See, niggas is false, sittin' in court, turned snitches
+That used to be real, but now they're petrified bitches
+I'm tryin' to be strong, they sendin' armies out to bomb me
+Listen to Ron, the only DJ that can calm me
+Constantly armed, my firepower keep me warm
+I'm trapped in the storm, and fuck the world till I'm gone
+Bitches be warned — word is bond, you'll get torn
+I'm bustin' on Giuliani, he rubbin' my niggas wrong
+And then it's on, before I leave picture me
+I'm spittin' at punk bitches and hustlin' to be free
+Watch me set it, niggas don't want it, you can get it, bet it
+Make these jealous niggas mad, I said it
+It's Thug Life, nigga, we don't cater to you hoes
+Fuck with me, have a hundred muthafuckas at yo' do' with fo'-fo's
+Hahahahaha, yeah, nigga
+Thug Life
+[Verse 2: The Notorious B.I.G.]
+I'm hard, Jehovah said I'm barred from the pearly gates
+Fuck Him, I didn't wanna go to heaven anyway
+But my momma got me on my knees with my hands gripped
+Talkin' bout some "Praise the Lord" shit
+Hail Mary, fuck her, I never knew her
+I'd probably screw her and dump her body in the sewer
+Our Father, my pops stuck up dope spots
+Big, black and mean with the fifth by the Gabardine
+What you expected from his next of kin?
+I'm loco, bro, but ain't no Mexican
+I got nines in the bedroom, Glocks in the kitchen
+A shotty by the shower if you wanna shoot me while I'm shittin'
+The lesson from the Smith & Wesson is depressin'
+Niggas keep stressin', the same motherfuckin' question
+How many shots does it take, to make my heart stop
+And my body start to shake? Ron G, stop the break
+
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+I be that young, pretty fly, smooth, glorious kid
+A Bad Boy, just like Notorious B.I.G
+A Roc-a-Fella like Shawn Carter
+With more game than Ron Harper
+The bomb sparker, rapper slash armed robber
+While y'all be on the corners bummy and high
+I be out buyin' the finest shit money can buy
+You wish you was in a position that I'm in
+Hot rhymin', diamonds shinin', autograph signin'
+My lifestyle is far out
+Every week, bring a different car out
+I go to nightclubs and buy the bar out
+Uh, 'cause I keep cream, I'm large on the street scene
+Every time I touch mics, you hear all the freaks scream
+[Outro: Big L & 2Pac]
+Yeah, yeah, Big L, Harlem's finest, yeah
+That nigga who hold it down for Uptown
+Hahahaha, this how we do it out here
+On this underground real shit, nigga
+It's the heat, nigga!
+Now rewind this motherfucker, you know you can't help it
+Deadly combination, boy!EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Ebonics[Produced by Ron Browz]
+
+[Intro]
+Yo, pay attention
+And listen real closely how I break this slang shit down
+
+[Verse 1]
+Check it, my weed smoke is my lye, a key of coke is a pie
+When I'm lifted I'm high, with new clothes on, I'm fly
+Cars is whips and sneakers is kicks
+Money is chips, movies is flicks
+Also, cribs is homes, jacks is pay phones
+Cocaine is nose candy, cigarettes is bones, ugh
+A radio is a box, a razor blade is a ox
+Fat diamonds is rocks and jakes is cops
+And if you got robbed, you got stuck, if you got shot, you got bucked
+And if you got double-crossed, you got fucked
+Your bankroll is your poke, a choke hold is a yoke
+A kite is a note, a con is an okey-doke
+And if you got punched, that mean you got snuffed
+To clean is to buff, a bull scare is a strong bluff
+I know you like the way I'm freaking it
+I talk with slang and I'ma never stop speaking it
+
+[Hook]
+(Speak with criminal slang) That's just the way that I talk, yo
+(Vocabulary spills, I'm ill)
+(Speak with criminal slang) That's just the way that I talk, yo
+(Vocabulary spills, I'm ill)
+[Verse 2]
+Yo, yo, a burglary is a jook, a wolf's a crook
+Mobb Deep already explained the meanin' of shook
+If you caught a felony, you caught a F, if you got killed, you got left
+But if you got the dragon, you got bad breath
+If you 730, that mean you crazy
+"Hit me on the hip" means page me
+Angel dust is sherm, if you got AIDS, you got the germ
+If a chick gave you a disease, then you got burned
+Max mean to relax, guns and pistols is gats
+Condoms is hats, critters is cracks
+The food you eat is your grub, a victim's a mark
+A sweatbox is a small club, your ticker's your heart
+Your apartment is your pad, your old man is your dad
+The studio is the lab and heated is mad
+I know you like the way I'm freaking it
+I talk with slang and I'ma never stop speaking it
+
+[Hook]
+(Speak with criminal slang) That's just the way that I talk, yo
+(Vocabulary spills, I'm ill)
+(Speak with criminal slang) That's just the way that I talk, yo
+(Vocabulary spills, I'm ill)
+
+[Verse 3]
+The iron horse is the train and champagne is bubbly
+A deuce is a honey that's ugly
+If your girl is fine, she's a dime, a suit is a vine
+Jewelry is shine, if you in love, that mean you blind
+Genuine is real, a face card is a hundred dollar bill
+A very hard, long stare is a grill
+If you sneaking to go see a girl, that mean you creeping
+Smiling is cheesing, bleeding is leaking
+Begging is bummin', if you nuttin', you cummin'
+Taking orders is sonnin', an ounce of coke is a onion
+A hotel's a telly, a cell phone's a celly
+Jealous is jelly, your food box is your belly
+To guerrilla mean to use physical force
+You took an L, you took a loss, to show off mean floss
+Uh, I know you like the way I'm freaking it
+I talk with slang and I'ma never stop speaking it
+[Hook]
+(Speak with criminal slang) That's just the way that I talk, yo
+(Vocabulary spills, I'm ill)
+(Speak with criminal slang) That's just the way that I talk, yo
+(Vocabulary spills, I'm ill)
+
+[Outro]
+Yeah yeah
+One love to my big brother
+Big Lee
+Holdin' it down
+Yeah
+Flamboyant for life
+Yeah, yeah, Flamboyant for lifeEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Da Graveyard[Intro]
+It's the number one crew in the area
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+The Big L be lightin' niggas like incense, gettin' men lynched
+And when tensed, I'm killin' infants for ten cents
+'Cause I'm a street genius with a unique penis
+Got fly chicks on my dick that don't even speak English
+I'm makin' ducks shed much tears, I buck queers
+I don't have it all upstairs, but who the fuck cares?
+I'm grabbin' brews, takin' fast swiggas
+I get cash and stash figures and harass them bitch-ass niggas
+After you, your man'll get scarred next
+And if your squad flex, I'm lettin' off like Bernard Goetz
+A TEC-9 is my utensil
+Fillin' niggas with so much lead, they can use they dick for a pencil
+I'm known for snatchin' purses and bombin' churches
+I get more pussy by accident than most niggas get on purpose
+I got drug spots from New York to Canada
+'Cause Big L be fuckin' with more keys than a janitor
+
+[Verse 2: Lord Finesse]
+Now, it's the dictator whose style's greater
+It's the man with more wild flavors than motherfuckin' Now & Laters
+And rappers I hit 'em well
+They automatically go to heaven fuckin' with me 'cause I give 'em hell
+So don't try to front, troop
+When your style is played out just like an Oshkosh jumpsuit
+I'm out to collect figures
+I'm on some Wu-Tang shit, so protect your fucking neck, nigga
+Not a role model, I'm a bad figure
+When it comes to rap, I got skills out the ass, nigga!
+I got it locked like a warden
+Rap without Finesse is like the NBA without Jordan
+So all you new jacks kickin' wack raps
+It's a fact that I'll be on your fuckin' back like a knapsack
+It ain't shit you can tell me
+Because bitches still gel me without a motherfuckin' LP
+[Hook]
+It's the number one crew in the area
+"Known for sendin' garbage MC's to the graveyard"
+It's the number one crew in the area
+"Known for sendin' garbage MC's to the graveyard"
+
+[Verse 3: Microphone Nut]
+Yo, I got a death wish
+That's why I talk so much fuckin' shit
+I want these bitch motherfuckers to try to flip
+So I can fill up this clip
+And stick the gun between they lips like a cigarette
+And let 'em smoke the four-fifth
+Ah fool, ah goodbye, no need to try to lie or cry
+It's time for motherfuckers to die
+Because to me death is like sex
+And if my brain was a deck of cards, I'd be missin' a whole deck
+Strap up a MAC, clack, clack, motherfuckers are runnin' like rats
+The blind bats are fuckin' crazed cats
+'Cause the Microphone Nut's loose
+And you're wonderin' how the fuck did this madman get cut loose
+From 25 consecutive 25-to-life bids
+For murderin' up some fuckin' white kids
+These were the kids of the prison guards
+Then I startin' killin' squads of prison guards in the prison yard
+One-two, everybody's through
+The Microphone Nut flew over the prison walls without a clue
+And now I'm back to haunt shit and talk shit
+Whoever flaunt shit, I leave 'em unconscious
+I run through ya with a maneuver and German luger
+Wreck like Das EFX straight out the fuckin' sewer
+Please show me where the crack is at
+While they quarter crack the sack I crack they backs like Cracker Jacks
+So I'm the one you should run from
+Because the Microphone Nut is like a motherfuckin' stun gun
+[Verse 4: Jay-Z]
+The way I rock no way you could stop
+I stop, pop and drop when Jay gets hot
+When I'm in the zone better hold ya own
+'Cause I like to break when I finish a poem
+Pound for p-p-pound the best around
+No way you can get up when I get down
+I shake rattle and roll and wreck shit like none
+And beat a nigga ass half silly on the one
+Fuckin' A fuckin' Jay ill with skill
+So ladies step up I get around like a wheel
+I'm never chokin' off chronic skills are bionic
+Bitches are screaming like Onyx
+Respect that I'll peel a punks cap back and sign it
+Creep through your block fuck a Glock I step
+Through your neighborhood armed with nothing but a rep
+I'm giving these ladies something they can feel 'cause I'm real
+Ya man get outta line and it's kill kill kill kill
+
+[Hook]
+It's the number one crew in the area
+"Known for sendin' garbage MC's to the graveyard"
+It's the number one crew in the area
+"Known for sendin' garbage MC's to the graveyard"
+
+[Verse 5: Party Arty of Ghetto Dwellaz]
+Yo you step up and you'll get played like the small fry
+I'm throwin' niggas off the roof said you wanna be the Fall Guy
+So mess around you'll be a dead man
+I get hype tonight's the night like Redman
+Nuff respect to Big L who get wreck
+Chiggidy check yourself 'cause I ain't workin' with a full deck
+I'm lethal, eatin' people
+Not Jeffrey Dahmer I'm the sequel, head or gut like Illegal
+So what'cha want?
+Yo I'm strapped with the gats step up plap plap
+I'm leavin' caps in your back fool
+I rip tracks wanna say peace to Hip Hop
+A nigga disagree bring it on and get dropped
+I get wreck I'm Party Arty so hit the deck
+The kid with the Tec smokin' niggas like cigarettes
+Now some ask me how I'm gettin' jewels
+I tell em' big up big up it's a stick up stick up
+I stick and move
+[Big L]
+And that's how we do. So I.U. grab the gat and let loose
+
+[Verse 6: Grand Daddy I.U.]
+Yo, rat-tat-tat I got the gat cocked
+Nigga we ghost man a punk?
+I let it roast and leave your pussy ass comatose
+I'm shootin' up like the west is
+Fuck suggestions
+I'll blow out a niggas intestines
+Better dip fast quick fast or you won't last
+One blast will put your ass in a body cast
+And I be killin' for rep get ill in a sec
+Nine mil on your neck blood spill is still in effect
+Constantly comittin' grand larceny
+Arsony niggas don't want no parts of me
+Never passed up a fast buck ask the last duck
+His jewels was truck he got his ass stuck
+So what the fuck is you sayin' hops?
+I'm wanted for slayin' cops
+Who's ever around when I be sprayin' drops
+But I ain't givin' a fuck who gets hit
+Niggas coppin' pleas but I ain't tryin' to hear shit
+I'll burn you faggot niggas like toast
+If you die and come back I shoot your spirit
+Now your ass is just a holy ghost
+You tried to play me to the left
+You better put a target on your head
+'Cause you're marked for deathEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Danger Zone[Intro: Malcolm X]
+"Stealing runs rampant in Harlem, gambling runs rampant in Harlem—all types of evils and vices that tear apart our community run rampant in Harlem."
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+The microphone is through when this rap legend grab it
+Sendin' poems to have them faggots
+Diggin' hoes like Reverend Swaggart
+L's the nigga that crime follows
+I'm hittin' fine models and stabbin' punks with broken wine bottles
+I beat chumps 'til they head splits
+Then break 'em like bread sticks
+I sex chicks, I'll even fuck a dead bitch
+Always sprayin' TEC's, because I be stayin' vexed
+Some nigga named Dex was in the projects layin' threats
+I jumped out the Lincoln, left him stinkin'
+Put his brains in the street
+Now you can see what he was just thinkin'
+I'm chokin' enemies 'til they start turnin' pale
+Satan said I'm learnin' well, Big L's gonna burn in Hell
+Front and get scarred 'cause your rap style ain't even hard
+I run with a thieving squad, and none of us believe in God
+
+[Hook: McGruff + Big L]
+(McGruff:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
+(Big L:) Where no man can withstand or hold his own
+(Big L:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
+(McGruff:) Where no man can withstand or hold his own
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+I got styles you can't copy, bitch
+It's the triple six in the mix, straight from H-E-double-hockey sticks
+Every Sunday, a nun lay from my gun spray
+Fuck Carlito, we doin' shit the Devil Son's way
+Every minute, my style switches up
+They said a real man won't hit a girl
+Well, I ain't real, 'cause I beat bitches up
+I use words that's ill, L got nerves of steel
+I'm cool, but every now and then I get a urge to kill
+I'm takin lives for a great price
+I'm the type to snap in Heaven with a MAC-11 and rape Christ
+And I'm fast to put a cap in a fag chest
+The Big L's mad stressed, 'cause Hell is my address
+I'm on some satanic shit strictly
+Little kids be wakin' up cryin'
+Yellin', "Mommy, Big L is comin' to get me!"
+
+[Hook: McGruff + Big L]
+(McGruff:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
+(Big L:) Where no man can withstand or hold his own
+(Big L:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
+(McGruff:) Where no man can withstand or hold his own
+
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+I keep a cutie with a soft booty
+Hoes be runnin' up, "Can I get your autograph, L?"
+No, bitch, I'm off duty
+I'm breakin' hottie hearts, niggas drop when my shotty sparks
+It ain't no food in my fridge, just body parts
+I keep the gear fresh, I keep the braids rugged
+I never wear rubbers, bitch – if I get AIDS, fuck it!
+A beef with me, you better prevent it 'cause in a minute
+I'll jump out a tinted rented, and leave a nigga body dented
+And my swoll knob your main girl cold-slobbed
+And gave a blow job to my whole mob, with no prob'
+Ayo, crazy bitches slept with L
+Then they niggas got mad and tried to step to L
+But I'm sicker than a nigga that's in special ed
+So I suggest you spread, pretzelhead
+'Fore I turn your white sweatsuit red
+[Hook: McGruff + Big L]
+(McGruff:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
+(Big L:) Where no man can withstand or hold his own
+(Big L:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
+(McGruff:) Where no man can withstand or hold his ownEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+M.V.P.[Verse 1]
+Ayo, spark up the phillies and pass the stout
+Make it quick money grip or your ass is out
+In a street brawl, I strike men quicker than lightning
+You seen what happened in my last fight, friend? A'ight, then
+L's a clever threat, a lyricist who never sweat
+Comparing yourself to me is like a Benz to a Chevrolette
+And clown rappers I'm bound to slay
+I'm saying hi to all the cuties from around the way
+Yeah 'cause I got all of them sprung, Jack
+My girls are like boomerangs
+No matter how far I throw them, they come back
+I'm coming straight out the N.Y.C
+I'm down with Diggin In The Crates and I'm MVP
+
+[Hook]
+If rap was a game I'll be M.V.P
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+Yo if rap was a game I'll be M.V.P
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+
+[Verse 2]
+Yo it's a must that I get papes
+Peace to all the DJ's who gave me love on they mixtapes
+And once again the man's back with a dance track
+So here's your chance, Jack, to get loose and let your hands clap
+I got juice like Boku, mad crews I broke through
+Brothers be mad cause I hit more chicks than they spoke to
+And everytime I'm jammed I always find a loophole
+I got a crime record longer than Manute Bol
+And my raps are unbelievable like aliens and flying saucers
+No more iron horses 'cause I'm buying Porsches
+Coming straight out the NYC
+Peace to the Kid Capri, I'm MVP
+[Hook]
+If rap was a game I'll be M.V.P
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+Yo if rap was a game I'll be M.V.P
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+
+[Verse 3]
+Battles, I lose none, I make crews run
+I get fools done, got ten fingers but only use one
+I run up like Machine Gun Kelly with a black skully
+Put one in your belly, leave you smelly, then take your Pelle Pelle
+I'm the neighborhood lamper, punani vamper
+Mess around you'll find my silk boxers in your Mommy's hamper
+And nowadays girls want you for your money
+I'm like Hev, I got nothing but love for you honey
+And since I'm looking slick and my pockets are thick
+I need surgery to get chicks removed from my (chill)
+I'm coming straight out the NYC
+Rap's my J-O-B, and I'm MVP
+
+[Hook]
+If rap was a game I'll be M.V.P
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+Yo if rap was a game I'll be M.V.P
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.CEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Deadly Combination[Intro: Ron G & 2Pac]
+Yes, indeed, it's the mix king Ron G
+I got somethin' the world ain't ready for
+New York City, L.A., Chicago, Atlanta
+D.C., Detroit, New Orleans
+Y'all know the deal, flavor!
+Hahahahahaha
+Yeah, nigga
+Yeah, that's right
+Baby
+That's how we do it
+[Verse 1: 2Pac]
+Follow me, tell me if you feel me
+I think niggas is tryna kill me
+Picturin' pistols, spittin' hollow points 'til they drill me
+Keepin' it real, and even if I do conceal
+My criminal thoughts, preoccupied with keepin' steel
+See, niggas is false, sittin' in court, turned snitches
+That used to be real, but now they petrified bitches
+I'm tryin' to be strong, they sendin' armies out to bomb me
+Listen to Ron, the only DJ that can calm me
+Constantly armed, my firepower keep me warm
+I'm trapped in the storm and fuck the world 'til I'm gone
+Bitches be warned: word is bond, you'll get torn
+I'm bustin' on Giuliani, he rubbin' my niggas wrong
+And then it's on, before I leave, picture me
+I'm spittin' at punk bitches and hustlin' to be free
+Watch me set it, niggas don't want it, you can get it
+Bet it make these jealous niggas mad I said it
+This thug life nigga, we don't cater to you hoes, fuck with me
+Have a hundred motherfuckers at your door with .44s
+[Interlude: 2Pac]
+Hahahahaha, yeah, nigga
+Thug Life
+
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+I be that young, pretty, fly, smooth, glorious kid
+A Bad Boy, just like The Notorious B.I.G
+A Rock-A-Fella, like Shawn Carter
+With more game than Ron Harper
+The bomb sparker rapper slash armed robber
+While y'all be on the corners bummy and high
+I be out buyin' the finest shit money can buy
+You wish you was in a position that I'm in
+Hot rhymin', diamonds shinin', autograph signin'
+My lifestyle is far out
+Every week bring a different car out
+I go to nightclubs and buy the bar out, huh
+‘Cause I keep cream, I'm large on the street scene
+Every time I touch mics you hear all the freaks scream
+
+[Outro: Big L & 2Pac]
+Yeah, yeah, Big L, Harlem's finest, yeah
+That nigga who hold it down for Uptown
+Hahahaha, that's how we do it out here
+On this underground real shit, nigga, it's the heat, nigga
+Now, rewind this motherfucker
+You know you can't help it
+Deadly combination, boyEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+All Black[Verse 1]
+Yo, once again, it's the Big L, that kid who got much props
+From killin' corrupt cops with motherfuckin' buck shots
+So don't step to this, 'cause I got a live crew
+You might be kinda big, but they make coffins yo' size, too
+I was taught wise, I'm known to extort guys
+This ain't Cali, it's Harlem nigga, we do walk-by's
+No one can match me, tax me, or wax me
+If you want me to write you some raps, G, just ask me
+Cause on the shelf is where your LP cold stood
+Because it was no good, that shit ain't even go wood
+I'm not the type to take sluts out, I just fuck they guts out
+Get my nuts out, then break the fuck out
+Me being a virgin? That's idiotic
+Cause if Big L got the AIDS, every cutie in the city got it
+Once a nigga tried to stick me for six G's
+And I put more holes in his ass than Swiss cheese
+
+[Chorus]
+(Ducks better scat when the gat goes click-clack)
+Or I'ma have your family dressed in all black
+(Ducks better scat when the gat goes click-clack)
+Or I'ma have your family dressed in all black
+
+[Verse 2]
+I steal lives like a stone thief, so leave me alone, chief
+Or catch a buck shot to your dome piece
+I must warn, I got it goin' on, word is bond
+Ducks be gettin' thrown off platforms like PM Dawn
+I'm catchin' bodies like a villain's supposed to
+And I squeeze triggers, not just on niggas, but hoes too
+So don't try to test me, 'cause I can't stand testers
+Fuck around, I'll introduce you to your ancestors
+Step to this and get left with a face full of tears, pal
+But man, you've been rappin' for years now
+And ain't made a hit yet, you flop in a split sec
+In the shower's the only time you get your dick wet
+I roll with scary crews, I come out of wars barely bruised
+I'm puttin' motherfuckers on the Daily News
+I was a gangsta from the get-go
+Leavin' fags in bodybags with tags on they big toe
+[Chorus]
+(Ducks better scat when the gat goes click-clack)
+Or I'ma have your family dressed in all black
+(Ducks better scat when the gat goes click-clack)
+Or I'ma have your family dressed in all black
+(Ducks better scat when the gat goes click-clack)
+Or I'ma have your family dressed in all black
+(Ducks better scat when the gat goes click-clack)
+Or I'ma have your family dressed in all black
+
+[Verse 3]
+Yo, ever since I was young, I ripped mics and I killed beats
+And I'm known to milk freaks and hit 'em on silk sheets
+No dame can give me a bad name, I got mad fame
+I'm quick to put a slug in a fag brain
+I be placin' snitches inside lakes and ditches
+And if I catch AIDS, then I'ma start rapin' bitches
+I'm all about makin' papes kid
+I killed my mother with a shovel just like Norman Bates did
+My old man in the past, stuck me up without a mask
+Then his ass cold dashed with my cash fast
+Fifty G's is what the creep stole
+So the next day, knocked on his door, and shot his granny through the peephole
+That's the type of shit I'm on, word is bond
+Got it goin' on, from the break of dawns to the early morn'
+You know my style, I'm wild, comin' straight out of Harlem, pal
+It's Big L, the motherfucking problem child
+[Chorus]
+(Ducks better scat when the gat goes click-clack)
+Or I'ma have your family dressed in all black
+(Ducks better scat when the gat goes click-clack)
+Or I'ma have your family dressed in all black
+(Ducks better scat when the gat goes click-clack)
+Or I'ma have your family dressed in all black
+(Ducks better scat when the gat goes click-clack)
+Or I'ma have your family dressed in all black
+
+[Outro]
+This goes out to all y'all bitch-ass niggas!
+So if your mother ain't ready for a funeral, don't fuck with me!
+'Cause I know a good way to get your family together
+And I ain't talkin' bout a reunion, motherfucker!
+Yo, I'm bout to sign out, but before I go
+I gotta say peace to the NFL crew, you know who you are
+And all y'all niggas talkin' that gun shit and won't bust a rhyme, stop fakin' the funk!
+Word, I'm bout to get up out of here
+Yo I'm out B, yo peace man
+I gotta get this money
+So all y'all niggas on my hit list get your suits ready
+Hahahaha!EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Devil’s Son[Intro]
+Ayo, Showbiz, man, I had this bugged out dream last night that I was the Devil's son, B
+I was doin' some ill shit
+
+[Refrain]
+"When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus"
+"When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus"
+"When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus"
+"I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns"
+"When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus"
+"When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus"
+"When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus"
+"I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns"
+
+[Verse 1]
+L's a rebel on a higher level, go get the shovel
+'Cause I'm the only son of the motherfuckin' Devil
+It's a fact I'm livin' foul, black
+Niggas should have known I was sick
+From the shit I did a while back
+'Cause bein' bad I couldn't stop
+When I was in pre-school, I beat a kid to death with a wooden block
+Faggot niggas I was back-slappin'
+I realized that every time I got mad that somethin' bad happened
+A nigga hit me with a can of beer, then he ran in fear
+Later they found him hangin' from a chandelier
+Enemies I be buckin' quick
+My moms know who I am
+'Cause she know who she was fuckin' with
+On my skull the 666, no tricks
+When I catch fits, my mom picks up the crucifix
+And I kill chumps for the cheapest price
+I'm rollin' with Satan, not Jesus Christ
+Enemies, I got several done
+Big L straight from hell, the motherfuckin' Devil's son
+[Hook]
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus
+I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns
+
+[Verse 2]
+It's Big L and I'm all about takin' funds
+I'm a stone villain, known for killin' and rapin' nuns
+Ayo, I even kill handicapped and crippled bitches
+Look at my scalp real close and you'll see triple sixes
+There's no doubt I'm all about a dollar
+I just signed a lifetime contract with the funeral parlor
+This kid Joe owed me dough, I didn't take his life
+Instead I tied him up and made him watch me rape his wife
+One nigga cold tried to diss me, and that shit is risky
+The nigga took a swung but he missed me
+So I popped off, now the chump's knocked off
+I spit in his mothafuckin' face and then bopped off
+Once a hottie shot me with a shotty
+I died but then I came back to life in another body
+The way I'm livin' is dead wrong
+I'm a devil from Hell without the tail or the red horns
+Killin' is fun, I'm number one with a gun
+Front and get done 'cause you can't run from the Devil's Son
+[Refrain]
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus
+I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns
+
+[Verse 3]
+The Big L is strictly gun-play
+I run through church and pistol-whip the priest every Sunday
+Once I put out the crazy order
+I sent niggas to kill Tom, his mom, and his baby daughter
+I'm livin' up to my extortion image
+I be stalkin' Lennox
+Catchin' more bodies than abortion clinics
+A kid tried to take L out
+Shot me in the chest with a TEC
+I just laughed and spit the shell out
+Next I took his gun, then he dropped to his knees with ease
+I made him freeze, he begged me please not to squeeze
+But I ain’t the type to fuss, I just snipe and bust
+Click clack bang, another nigga bites the dust
+Shorts, I'm takin' none
+Misbehave and get sent to the grave by the Devil's Son
+
+[Outro]
+Word, Big L
+The motherfuckin' Devil's Son is definitely in effect
+Givin' a shout-out to all the murderers, thieves
+Armed robbers, serial killers, psychos, lunatics
+Crackheads, mental patients, mental retards
+And a special special shout-out to all the niggas with AIDS
+Peace!
+[Refrain]
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus
+I'm wavin' automatic guns at nunsEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Lifestylez Ov Da Poor And Dangerous[Intro]
+("Everybody everywhere is scratching for what they can get
+Did you think anybody in this town is any different?
+They don't give a damn who gets killed
+Just as long as the dice keep rollin
+The hoes keep hoeing and the money keeps flowin")
+
+[Verse]
+My name is L, and I'm from a part of town where clowns
+Get beat down and all you hear is gunshot sounds
+On 139 and Lenox Ave. there's a big park
+And if you're soft, don't go through it when it gets dark
+'Cause at nighttime niggas try to tax
+They're sneakier than alley cats
+That's why I carry gats
+Yo, I'm a muthafuckin' fugitive
+Buckwild and foul is the lifestyle that I choose to live
+Because to me it's all about a buck
+I used to have a partner in crime by the name of Chuck
+We stormed the city, shooting shit up like Frank Nitti
+We robbed kids and split the dough 50/50
+One day we stuck a dice game on the ave. and split the cash
+Then I murdered his ass and took his half
+Because I'm all about ends and skins
+When you got those, you don't need no muthafuckin' friends
+If I catch you on a late night, black, you're getting stuck, jack
+My moms told me to get a job, fuck that
+Ayo, picture me getting a job
+Taking orders from Bob, selling corn on the cob
+Yo, how the hell I'mma make ends meet
+Making about 120 dollars a week
+Man, I'd rather do another hit
+I want clean clothes, mean hoes and all that other shit
+Yo, I admit, I'm a sucker
+A low down, dirty, sneaky, double-crossin' connivin' muthafucka
+Breaking in cribs with a crowbar
+I wasn't poor, I was po' - I couldn't afford the 'o-r'
+I used to wait until it gets dark
+And tell a nigga to strip, I wanna see some birthmarks
+Like a ninja, dressed in black with a ski mask
+I take all the funds, then I run down the street fast
+I vicked this nigga named Eugene, took his brand new ring
+'Cause sticking up's an everyday routine
+Once I was cruising in a beat-up ride
+Saw this nigga named Clyde
+And snuck up on him from the blind side
+I told him, "Give up the dough, before you get smoked
+Oh you're broke? *gunshots*
+Now you're dead broke"
+The Big L was cold crazy
+A top-notch crook snatching pocketbooks from old ladies
+I don't care, I'll do anything to get a buck
+Even rob a Miller truck, 'cause I don't give a fuck
+Some say I'm ruthless, some say I'm grim
+Once a burglar broke into my house and I robbed him
+Plenty and many brains I bust
+'Cause I was livin' the lifestyle of the poor and dangerous
+[Outro]
+Word
+All of us from Harlem
+139
+That's living the lifestyle of the poor and dangerous
+KnawhatImsayin?
+This goes out
+To my brothers
+Big Lee and Don Ice
+Reggie Reg, T.C., Todd, Lou, Black Tone
+Whitey, Ty Speeder, Ru Dog, Herb McGruff
+E-Jet, G Love, Doc Ring, Slice and Rich Dice
+I can't forget the 1-4-0, Lennox Ave. crew
+And I gotta say rest in peace to Mate the Skate, Dog
+And my man Kerry, peace
+
+Now what kinda life is that for a child?
+Now what kinda life is that for a child?
+Now what kinda life is that for a child?
+Now what kinda life is that for a fucking child?
+Word to mother, fuck all that stupid shit
+Controversial, not commercial, niggaEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Street Struck[Intro]
+A come on...
+Yeah, it's the Big L
+Coming at you once again, in nine-five
+And I dedicate this one
+To all my peoples from Uptown, and everywhere
+Check it
+
+[Verse 1]
+Yo, where I'm from it ain't cookies and cream
+There's a lot of peer pressure growin' up as a young teen
+You never know when you gonna get wet
+'Cause mad clowns be catchin' wreck with a Tec just to get a rep
+Instead of cool friends, they'd rather hang with male thugs
+Instead of goin' to school, they'd rather sell drugs
+It's best to go the right route and not the wrong one
+Because it's gonna catch up with you in the long run
+Brothers be on the corners, actin' stupid, gettin' lifted
+Their life is twisted, and most of them are quite gifted
+In other words, they got talent
+But they'd rather sell cracks, and bust gats
+And run the streets actin' violent
+To them it's all about hittin' skins and makin' some easy green
+'Cause that's all they show you on the TV screen
+All they care about is a buck or bustin' a sweet nut
+They don't give a (What?) 'cause they're street struck
+[Chorus]
+You better listen to L rhyme
+'Cause being street struck'll get you nothin' but a bullet or jail time
+So pay attention to L rhyme
+'Cause being street struck'll get you nothin' but a bullet or jail time
+
+[Verse 2]
+Before the rap contract, I was sellin' crack
+Stay strapped with a Mac, I was into all of that
+I started rappin' and got nice as hell
+If it wasn't for this, I might be doin' life in jail
+And some of my peeps are still in the game selling 'caine
+If that's what you gotta do to maintain, go head and do your thang
+But with the cash profit, make an investment
+And try not to go to the grave like the rest went
+'Cause you can be rich with crazy loot, own a house and nine cars
+What good is that if you're dead or behind bars?
+Ayo, it's not even funny
+I've seen a lot of my peers give up their careers
+For some fast money
+They could've been boxers, ballplayers, or rap singers
+Instead they bank robbers and crack slingers
+Ayo, they used to be legit kids, now they corrupt
+They had dreams, but gave 'em up, 'cause they're street struck
+
+[Chorus]
+You better listen to L rhyme
+'Cause being street struck'll get you nothin' but a bullet or jail time
+So pay attention to L rhyme
+'Cause being street struck'll get you nothin' but a bullet or jail time
+You better listen to L rhyme
+'Cause being street struck'll get you nothin' but a bullet or jail time
+So pay attention to L rhyme
+'Cause being street struck'll get you nothin' but a bullet or jail time
+[Verse 3]
+I still chill with my peeps in the streets
+But most of the time I'm in the crib writin' rhymes to some dope beats
+Or either callin' up some freaks to bone
+But word up, I try to leave the streets alone
+But it's crazy hard kid, in other words, it's spooky
+The streets be callin' me, like the crack be callin' Pookie
+It ain't a dumb joke, listen to this young folk
+'Cause where I'm from, you can choke from the gun smoke
+Stay off the corners, that might be your best plan
+Before you catch a bullet that was meant for the next man
+Or end up with a deep cut
+Or relaxin' on a hospital bed from bein' street struck
+
+[Chorus]
+You better listen to L rhyme
+'Cause being street struck'll get you nothin' but a bullet or jail time
+So pay attention to L rhyme
+'Cause being street struck'll get you nothin' but a bullet or jail time
+You better listen to L rhyme
+'Cause being street struck'll get you nothin' but a bullet or jail time
+So pay attention to L rhyme
+'Cause being street struck'll get you nothin' but a bullet or jail time
+
+[Outro]
+Word up
+Ayo take it from me, the Big L
+'Cause I been through it all, you know what I'm sayin'?
+Stay off them corners, and stay out of trouble
+And I gotta say rest in peace to all the casualties of the streets
+I'm outta hereEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+8 Iz Enuff[Intro: Big L]
+Yo, my crew is in the house
+Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless
+Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie
+And I'mma set it like this
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked
+You better surrender before you get smoked
+You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?
+I put chumps to rest fast, when my Smith-Wes' blast
+So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed
+Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews
+Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse
+I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk
+So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt
+I'm from the alley, not the valley
+I'm hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry
+And fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle
+I revive crowds with live styles
+Don't hang with jive pals
+Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'
+
+[Verse 2: Terra]
+Well, I'm flave, and I was down with the crime wave
+Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave
+In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks
+Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed
+Innovated, rappers you know who made it
+Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated
+This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter
+Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter
+I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare
+Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer
+Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up
+Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts
+[Verse 3: Herb McGruff]
+For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff
+I'm on some murder stuff and when I talk every verb is rough
+Front on this and get beat bad
+With big bats that bruise
+Break bones, then wind up bloody in a bodybag
+MC's are live, but I'm mad liver
+Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a African cab driver
+Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas
+(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these
+Ask the nigga in my last bout
+He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out
+Microphones I gotta tear
+Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck up outta here
+
+[Verse 4: Buddah Bless]
+Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic
+Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic
+I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news
+In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food
+Step to this and get your body blown
+'Cause I'm no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home
+Here's some advice, I'm mad nice
+Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice and cold take a fag's life
+My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'
+Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon
+[Verse 5: Big Twan]
+Yo, I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10
+When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in
+I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow
+Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill your show
+I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid
+No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig
+Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me
+Aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me
+You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off
+I never come soft, I gotta pump that's sawed-off
+But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out
+You dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout
+[Verse 6: Killa Kam - Cam'Ron]
+Rappers be funny like Fletch
+'Cause they sections say they slaughter, son
+Talk about nines and TECs, and never shot a watergun
+But Killa Kam, I get erratic when it comes to static
+There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic
+Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release
+My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased
+It's the beast on attack, so make tracks, I break backs
+I jack with def gats and black MACs
+On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks, you fight crooks
+Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took
+[Verse 7: Trooper J]
+I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser
+I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer
+Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin' but lead
+Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead
+In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crackyard valleys
+And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali
+And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse
+I'm in a daze and I'm so confused
+From seein' heads shake so many times the lead make
+And Mike Boogie's next up, and keep my head straight
+
+[Verse 8: Mike Boogie]
+I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest
+Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat
+'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems
+That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones
+And sendin' niggas hoppin' home
+Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this
+So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches
+And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you
+'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my Number 2
+And it's death in every paragraph
+And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash
+No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend
+I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10
+And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed
+And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike
+Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough
+Peace to Big L, aiyo, 8 is enough
+
+[Outro: Big L]
+True, true and before I get up outta here
+I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man
+Brothers that was there since the beginning
+What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew
+Peace to Mase Murder and the B.B.O. Crew
+The Best Out Crew, the M&M Crew
+And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem
+You know what I'm sayin?
+And last but not least
+I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew
+My crew, word upEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+No Endz, No Skinz[Verse 1: Big L]
+Let me get to the point real quick
+When your pockets are thick, mad chicks be on a brother's tip
+When ya sporting jewels and driving in a groovy car
+All the ho's gonna sweat you like a movie star
+To get in your pockets that's what them girls wanna do
+But if you not rich them chicks gonna front on you
+No matter how strong your rap
+You only knock boots when you got loot and you on the map
+'Cause if you broke you'll get a whack slut
+If you got dough you get a ho with a fat butt
+With fresh gear, long hair and a cute face
+And if you live alone she's gonna pack her suit case and move in
+Then you start losing all your bucks
+Soon you broke as a joke and out of luck
+Then she takes off and breaks off, your ho's gone, so long dear
+I'm outta here a good relationships been torn
+'Cause when you on top everything's okay
+But when you broke you gets no play
+
+[Chorus: Showbiz]
+If you don't got ends, you won't be getting no skins
+And if you don't got money, you won't scoop a honey
+If you don't got cash, you won't be getting no ass
+And if you're not clocking loot you won't be knocking no boots
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Girls of the nineties ain't nothing but crooks
+It's all about what's in your pockets not how you look
+That's why you can't talk to just any whore
+Leaving brothers for the next man 'cause he's got a penny more
+They want a drug dealer, not a scholar
+Some girls barely speak but always asking for a dollar
+And if you pushing a fresh Benz, they'll be your best friends
+Yeah, as long as you collect ends
+You think she's all yours, but as soon as your dough go
+Your ho go, now you solo
+But when you was makin' papes selling jumbos
+You bought dumb clothes for all of them bum ho's
+And you was taking 'em to the movies every weekend
+Now that you dead broke, the girls stopped speaking
+'Cause nowadays girls want you to trip
+The only thing they can get from Big L is a big...
+'Cause when you on top everything's okay
+But when you broke you gets no play
+
+[Chorus: Showbiz]
+If you don't got ends, you won't be getting no skins
+And if you don't got money, you won't scoop a honey
+If you don't got cash, you won't be getting no ass
+And if you're not clocking loot you won't be knocking no boots
+If you don't got ends, you won't be getting no skins
+And if you don't got money, you won't scoop a honey
+If you don't got cash, you won't be getting no ass
+And if you're not clocking loot you won't be knocking no boots
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+I tell it how it is 'cause I'm a bold figure
+And I hate a money hungry girl a.k.a. gold digger
+It ain't even funny
+Some girls don't even know me asking me can they get some money
+I'm looking nothing like your poppa
+I wouldn't give a chick ten cent to put cheese on a Whopper
+They wanna know why I'm so fly
+A girl ask me for a ring and I put one around her whole eye
+Chicks used to diss, but now they wanna kiss
+Yo Showbiz, I'ma break it down like this
+
+[Chorus: Showbiz]
+If you don't got ends, you won't be getting no skins
+And if you don't got money, you won't scoop a honey
+If you don't got cash, you won't be getting no ass
+And if you're not clocking loot you won't be knocking no boots
+If you don't got ends, you won't be getting no skins
+And if you don't got money, you won't scoop a honey
+If you don't got cash, you won't be getting no ass
+And if you're not clocking loot you won't be knocking no boots
+
+[Outro]
+It's like that y'all and that's a fact y'all
+I hit hoes from the back and don't give a jack y'all
+It's Big L y'all, I'm living swell, y'all
+I do my thing, that's why my name ring bells, y'all
+If you don't got ends, girls be fronting
+If you don't got ends, they ain't giving up nothing
+If you don't got ends, all the girls ignore you
+If you don't got ends, they act like they never saw you
+If you don't got endsEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+American Dream[Verse 1 - McGruff]
+Crooked corrupted criminal crime boss with cream
+Cocaine hustler, blowing out the brains of busters
+Be in my mansion chillin', inhalin' the ganja smoke
+Counting mad cream, weighin' tons of coke
+Guarded by thugs and Rottweilers
+I flood the streets with drugs and clock dollars
+Niggas get plugged when my Glock hollers
+Skunk smokers, Philly and Owl ripper
+Cristal sipper, I've been a willy for a while nigga
+'Gruff got hoes, the man with all the nachos
+Expensive hot clothes, drop top Rolls
+East coast, West coast, fiends overdose
+'Gruff get the cream with my team and I'm ghost
+
+[Verse 2 - Ma$e]
+This money be temptin' me, to jump out the MPV
+Empty three clips of hollow tips with no sympathy
+Since 14, I sold morphine for more green
+Kept dope in a Nautica coat under the drawstring
+And watched out for cops, squad cars, and Beemers
+And laundry ninas, flee the country to Argentina
+Laid back in the beach (yeah) coastin' with commuters
+Smokin' the buddahs on the cruiseline boat to Aruba
+For a while, yo; pump the vowel so I can pile dough
+Then become a Harlem kingpin just like Alpo'
+Get paid so I can lay low in San Diego
+With yayo so I can ship it out whenever I say so
+[Hook]
+Yo! Makin' this money is the American Dream
+East Coast to West Coast, you know what I mean
+Whether it's Uptown, Downtown; you pick the scene
+You gots to get your own scheme
+We ain't splittin' this cream
+
+[Verse 3 - Cam'ron]
+Yo! I'mma run hysterically, till they bury me
+Count numerically,hills of Beverly
+More grands than cherokee; president like Eric B., and Rakim
+Drug game, I'm top ten; locked in? Right now its not an option
+And those who creep got the Mac in the heat
+They got the five-inch screens in the back of the seat
+And now they got this daddy raggin'
+Last year, had me saggin', wasn't ready
+When Heavy was back, tossed me in the paddywagon
+But ain't nobody out here stoppin' love
+Cause we was twelve years old in the Cotton Club, poppin' bub'
+So all the fame without the fortune; goddamn, you wrong
+Killa kid Cam-e-ron surviving in the Amazon
+
+[Verse 4 - BloodShed]
+Yo! I leave you dazed and froze
+With all kinds of amazing flows
+Money surrounded I counted
+While bathing with Asian hoes
+Back home niggas is after me
+I'm back to sea, sippin' daquiris
+Coke factory, fiends baggin' up crack for me
+From cutting up rocks to investing in stocks
+Nautica yachts, and knots busting outta my socks
+Now that Bloods play the chub
+All the ladies love me, they hate who made me hubby
+Behind my back they say my baby's ugly
+Each night I sleep, with freaks with Lamborghini jeeps
+Neighbors be sneaking peeks, how my semen leaks, between the sheets
+Mess up my loot, I cut your collars, Juan
+Cause these is modern times, and the only thing I see is dollar signs
+[Hook]
+
+[Verse 5 - Big L]
+Check it! To be seen clean in the mean Beam
+Is every team's dream; Big L's a cream fiend
+With more green than Springsteen
+You know I'm crazy quick to smack a groupie
+I'm known to mack a hoochie
+Do I got stacks of lucci (Absolutely!)
+Harlem kids is known for felonies
+And sellin' keys, pushin 300Z's
+GS3's, and puffin' trees
+These G's breeze while DTs
+Be yellin, 'freeze!', we stash cheese
+And keep a pocket full of centuries
+Ayo, I'm set for the rest of my life
+Some clown that laid the threat cause I had sex with his wife
+I stuck my tool to his brain, said "act a fool and get slain”
+Nigga, yo' bitch chose me, you know the rules to the game
+
+[Hook]
+
+[Outro]
+Yea What? Harlem on the Rise
+BloodShed, Killa Kam
+Six Figures, Cee-O-Cee, Chuck Blassie
+My Man man Mase, the Bad Boy
+Uptown, McGruff
+Big L, 139, NFL, 140EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+The Enemy[Intro]
+("Fuck who did I offend, rappers"
+"Sit back I'm about to begin")
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+I drive up and down Harlem blocks, iced-out watch
+Knots in my socks, cops think I'm selling rocks
+Pulling me over to see if I'm drunk, but I'm sober
+They wouldn't fuck with me if I drove a Nova
+Listen Columbo, you're mad because your money come slow
+And what you make in a year, I make in one show
+Now you wanna frisk me and search my ride
+Call me all kind of names, try to hurt my pride
+You're just mad cause I'm a young cat, pockets dumb fat
+Talking 'bout, "Where the gun at?" I been there and done that
+I'm through with that illegal life, I'm staying legit
+I love to see cars come cruising by and playing my shit
+I walk around with six thou' without a pistol, my whole clique's wild
+I'm rich pal, no more sticks, I'm making hits now
+I drink Cristal, I'm through breaking laws
+I don't sell coke any more, I do tours
+So get that flashlight out of my face
+To bring me down, them Jakes will do whatever it takes
+Word up, them Federals got my phone and my house tapped
+Praying that I fall for the mousetrap, I doubt that
+[Chorus: Big L]
+Why do I end up in so much shit?
+I done came way too far to be calling it quits
+Jake wanna lock me up, even though I'm legit
+They can't stand to see a young brother' pockets get thick
+
+[Verse 2: Fat Joe]
+Aiyo enough's enough, Federals try to set me up
+Put me in cuffs and crush what I lust into dust
+Plus, they want a nigga's soul, but they know
+Big Joey Crack will never rat a cat that he know
+For sure, death before dishonor, I left the streets alone
+Since Tone deceased it almost killed his mama
+So I'ma keep doing what I'm doing
+Pursuing my dream till there's enough cream to start my own union
+And show these kids how legit it is
+Shit is real, I used to steal but now I own several businesses
+So where's your witnesses that you claim to have
+Saying that I'm taking half, extorting New York and not paying tax?
+I'm laid back playing the role, laying the low
+But it's the same old Joe so don't get KO'd
+Hey yo, I'm gonna fry for what I never did
+Or catch a heavy bid, why don't they just let a nigga live?
+
+[Chorus: Big L]
+Why do I end up in so much shit?
+I done came way too far to be calling it quits
+Jake wanna lock me up, even though I'm legit
+They can't stand to see a young brother' pockets get thick
+Why do I end up in so much shit?
+I done came way too far to be calling it quits
+Jake wanna lock me up, even though I'm legit
+They can't stand to see a young brother' pockets get thick
+[Outro]
+("What would you do if a vicious enemy
+Suddenly started coming at you
+Armed to the teeth and ready to kill you?")EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Let ’Em Have It “L”[Hook]
+Settin' it off lettin' it off (whatever) (x4)
+(Let 'em have it L) What?
+(Give it to 'em L) Yeah (x3)
+(Let 'em have it L) What?
+(Let 'em have it)
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Ayo, I'm serious, I'm not the type to joke a lot
+Dressed in all black, never seen in polka dots
+No other write rhymes like these
+I'm cool as a light breeze, I'm playin' rappers out like striped Lees
+I'm smoother than velvet, my lyrics are well-writ
+You sayin', "L's this," and, "L's that"—get off L' dick
+I don't roll with punks I only roll with live guys
+And we do drivebys in 325is
+I had beef with this thief named Randolph
+Now he's in a casket dressed up with his hands crossed
+So you better leave L alone
+Before I reach out and touch you but not with a telephone
+Yo I'm the brother that you never even thought of beatin'
+Black white or Puerto Rican, I'm gonna slaughter each and
+Every crab MC that runs up
+When a battle comes up, give me two thumbs up
+
+[Hook]
+Settin' it off lettin' it off (whatever) (x4)
+(Let 'em have it L) What?
+(Give it to 'em L) Yeah (x3)
+(Let 'em have it L) What?
+(Let 'em have it)
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+I damage all opponents as soon as the bell rings
+It's all about me, yo it's a B. I. G. L thing
+The crown is still mine cause I drop ill rhymes
+A lot of rappers talk that murder shit and couldn't kill time
+One two one two crews I run through
+Fuck karate, Big L practice Gun Fu
+Cause I'm a MC assassinator
+I grab the mag and leave a nag leakin' like activator
+Step to this and get shanked up
+I knocked out so many teeth the tooth fairy went bankrupt
+And I entertain well because of my brain cells
+I'm naughty and stop callin' me shorty my name's L
+My raps are hotter than the Bahamas
+MC's be talkin' about breakin' jaws when they couldn't break a promise
+With Big L you can't swing long
+So get behind me and sing, cause every hero got a theme song
+
+[Hook]
+Settin' it off lettin' it off (whatever) (x4)
+(Let 'em have it L) What?
+(Give it to 'em L) Yeah (x3)
+(Let 'em have it L) What?
+(Let 'em have it)
+
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+The Big L's back to attack with a phat rap
+Matter of fact, black, I'm puttin' Harlem on the map
+Wassup cause I'm a stiggy star
+Breakin' 'em up and then takin' they heart
+You better believe that Big L is the man that be rippin' the microphones apart
+I'm undefeated that's the stone truth
+Cause battlin' me is like fightin' a gorilla in a phone booth
+I take lives with no pride, I just committed a homicide
+A punk brother died cause he tried
+To take my cash but he didn't last, I pulled out fast
+He tried to bash then I blast on his monkey ass (boom)
+I make a lot of dough, I'm quick to spot a foe
+Even if my grandma violate, she gotta go!
+When I was young I played with guns, not a kiddy toy
+Cause I'm a rough, rugged gangsta, not a pretty boy
+Facts on tracks I recite well
+Everybody wanna be like Mike, but Mike wanna be like L
+[Hook]
+Settin' it off lettin' it off (whatever) (x4)
+(Let 'em have it L) What?
+(Give it to 'em L) Yeah (x3)
+(Let 'em have it L) What?
+(Let 'em have it)
+
+Outro [Ma$e]:
+A-yo, big shots to all them niggas on the corner
+Doin' something they ain't
+Got no business doin'
+I gotta say what's up to S&S, Doo Wop, and the Bounce Squad
+Can't forget my peeps from Brooklyn, you know what I'm sayin'?
+Like Box and Herb and Big Sid
+A-yo, L, you must be buggin', B
+You didn't even let me say what's up to my hoes, B
+
+[Big L]
+Oh yeah, we gotta say what's up to the hoes, man
+
+Word up let's go see our P.OEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Platinum Plus[Intro: Big L]
+Yo yo what the fuck man, Big L takin' over the streets
+Flamboyant Entertainment
+
+[Hook 1: DJ Premier]
+"What y'all bout to witness"
+"Big L, Big L, Big L"
+"My-my-my-my, my whole crew wild"
+"The game is called rap"
+"Other MC's ain't got a chance at all"
+"My-whole, my, my whole crew wild"
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Yo, I'm straight loco, to hell with you and your broke ho
+You ain't a big dog, you more like Toto, you got no dough
+I smoke 'dro mixed with coco, strong as bolo
+I pack a fo'-fo', platinum ro-ro
+Anti-homo, that's a no-no so fuck po-po
+I push the seven-fo'-oh and not the Volvo
+C-Town push the six-oh-oh, I’m with a bitch or I’m dolo
+Chips from here to Acapulco
+While y'all buck for legs I, buck for heads
+I even buck celebs, nigga fuck the feds
+My underground niggas, y'all can shine with me
+Got my own label now, so y'all can sign with me
+Y'all can take me from the bottom and climb with me
+That's fine with me, that's how it was designed to be
+[Hook 2: Big L]
+Gats we bust, backs we crush
+Only hot tracks we lust, crazy stacks we clutch
+And we need plaques to touch that say platinum plus
+Cause half of you niggas that's rappin' now is wack to us
+Gats we bust, backs we crush
+Only hot tracks we lust, crazy stacks we clutch
+And we need plaques to touch that say platinum plus
+Cause half of you niggas that's rappin' now is wack to us
+
+[Verse 2: Big Daddy Kane]
+And cats still wonder can they get as hot as he been
+That probably depends, let me show you how to begin
+Bang chicks in Marriotts down to Quality Inns
+Hit the bar spend cash like Monopoly ends
+Plushed out, rock gators and exotical skins
+Come in the hood, flippin the chicken and broccoli Timbs
+Niggas come in the game, block they shot at the rim
+That ain't in you - the fuck you gon' possibly win
+I do it, "Booty Calls" on the BlackSTREET Teddy tip
+Keep a steady grip, make cream just like Ready Whip
+Heavy with, styles that's the deadliest
+Cats on that petty shit watch how much lead he get
+You tryin to go places, chasin Oasis
+About nothin gettin low wages
+Drink Hennessy with no chasers
+Right hook is like Joe Frasier's, I'm the bodacious
+Body parts are big and like Schwarzenegger's
+Smokin' Garcia Vega tryin to get the larger paper
+If you, block the cash, we lockin ass
+I'ma put it in your chest like a Stockton pass
+Only out to earn figures like we please
+But I don't mind to burn niggas like CDs
+Now - exhibit, styles I kick with it
+[*COUGH*] Pardon me, but I'm fucking sick with it
+[Hook 2: Big L & (Big Daddy Kane)]
+A-yo; gats we bust, (backs we crush)
+Only hot tracks we lust, (and crazy stacks we clutch)
+And we need plaques to touch, (that say platinum plus)
+Cause half of you niggas that's rappin' now, (is wack to us)
+A-yo; gats we bust, (backs we crush)
+Only hot tracks we lust, (and crazy stacks we clutch)
+And we need plaques to touch, (that say platinum plus)
+Cause half of you niggas that's rappin' now, (is wack to us)
+
+[Hook 1]EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Flamboyant[Intro]
+Yeah, yeah!
+Big L, Corleone
+My nigga C-Town, my big brother Big Lee holdin' it down
+Flamboyant, baby, for life
+We takin' over (No doubt)
+Comin' to a theater near you
+Check it out, come on, check it
+
+[Verse 1]
+Make sure my mic is loud and my production is tight
+Better watch me 'round your girl if you ain't fuckin' her right
+You damn playa haters never want to see me blow
+Flamboyant Entertainment CEO
+Yo, the spotlight is mine, it ain't his no more
+When Lee come home, niggas can't live no more
+And I'm straight, keep a Harlem World mind-state
+I never lounge where you find Jake
+Surprise niggas like a blind date, L rhyme great
+And I'mma increase the crime rate for old time's sake
+Run with me and I'mma make you a star
+When me and my crew hit the clubs, we go straight to the bar
+Leave 'em empty, I cruise through Harlem in a M3
+Never pay for parties, say my name and I'm in free
+I'm on some 100-G car shit, superstar shit
+Sellin' niggas that wet shit right out the jar shit
+I'm dumb hot, I'll wreck you and your young flock
+Keep the gun cocked, represent one block
+139, nigga, the Danger Zone
+We quick to put a bullet in a stranger's dome
+I'm known to kick a rough rhyme and rock much shine
+Yo, I'm out, I done took up enough time
+We out, no doubt
+You know how we do
+Flamboyant for life
+
+[Hook]
+Big L, Corleone
+A smooth kid that'll run up in your baby mother
+Big L, for real
+Corleone is too advanced for y'all
+Big L, I'm a pimped-out nigga for real
+Big L, Corleone is too advanced for y'all
+
+[Verse 2]
+Yo, it's Corleone and Queen's Most
+We bust 'til your whole team ghost
+Everywhere we go, we must bring toast
+Forever poppin' the chrome, always droppin' a poem
+I can write it or recite it off the top of the dome
+However you want it is how I'm gonna give it to you, Big L style
+They brought it back to the streets ‘cause that shit sell now
+So pal, back up a bit, give me some elbow space
+I represent Harlem World, not Melrose Place
+So I'mma lace the jewels up with nice baguettes
+Flamboyant is the label that writes the checks
+Y'all niggas better stop frontin' ‘cause I might get vexed
+And I'mma run up on y'all and slice yours necks
+With the machete, pockets heavy, slang more cane than Eddie
+I represent uno-tres-nueve
+Time is money, so I stay late
+I'm quick to slide a playmate, bust off like a tre-eight then vacate
+[Hook]EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Sandman 118 Freestyle[Intro]
+Aiyo, check it out 1-2, 1-2
+It's the Big motherfucking L and I'm 'bout to catch wreck on this Dirtman shit
+Yo, check it out
+This is that Sandman 118 shit
+And it's the B-I-G L straight from 139 in fucking Lenox, Harlem, the Danger Zone
+I gotta represent it, somebody gotta do it
+You know what I'm saying?
+Aiyo, I got a new single out, it's called MVP, the Most Valuable Poet, you know what I'm saying?
+'Cause I'm the most valuable poet when it comes to this shit and I'ma prove it right now, check it out
+
+[Verse]
+My clique is quick to put a bullet in a stranger's dome
+You shoulda known not to roam through the Danger Zone
+In Harlem is where the thugs rest, in a slug fest
+We sending faggots all the way to heaven like Doug Fresh
+Big L grew up in the slums of greed, known for drawing guns with speed
+And selling tons of weed, cause I got sons to feed
+And it's a must that my toast smokes, I'm not like most folks
+Fuck tens and twenties, I carry ghost-notes
+And it's a must that I commence to slaying
+Any faggot MC who goes against the grain
+I'mma smoke Pataki ass, and Rudolph Giuli' like a wooley
+I keep a tooly for any moolie who act fooly
+So if a nigga disrespect L, to hell is where I'mma send em'
+After I skin em' and spit some venom in em'
+I run with intruders, looters and sharpshooters
+Who spark buddahs and fuck thick bitches with large hooters
+Yo, I'm the nigga that be jumping on your stereo
+When I walk the streets the bitches be tapping they friends, like there he go!
+Never had rules to follow, none of my jewels are hollow
+Try to tax mines and you'll be on the news tomorrow
+Cause I never was the type to start beefs
+But I spark creeps on dark streets and stop they heart beats
+To hell with silly games, I play survival sports
+Sometimes I be in the crib, stressed the fuck out, with suicidal thoughts
+All my life I've been a lady bruiser, a wrong chooser
+School refuser, drug abuser, born loser
+Clothes bummy, nose runny, it wasn't funny
+A little dummy who tried to kill his mother for insurance money
+Now me and the devil is on the same team
+I'mma hit the mainstream with ill raps that's poison like gangrene
+I'm better than every rapper that you thought was raw
+Peace to all of my peoples out in Baltimore
+I'm not a coward, and fronting on me, I won't allow it
+I'm high powered, fucking freak bitches like Adina Howard
+Front and get your belly torn, I keep a Pelle on
+I'm fucking with Grey Poupon and Dom Pérignon
+On the ave I pump rocks, quick to give a chump knots
+You ain't tough, the only thing you shooting is jump shots
+My style is hard like strong lumber
+Cute chicks get the dick, ugly bitches get the wrong numberEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+I Don’t Understand It[Verse 1]
+There are too many MC's who are overrated
+You ask me, they wasn't even supposed to make it
+In the rap biz, they don't know what rap is
+So give it up, become a actor or a actress
+Or a producer, 'cause you fail to use the
+Mic right, so take flight 'fore I bruise ya
+For sayin' those bull crap wack raps on wax
+You need to get smacked, sit back and rip that contract
+Aiyo, I'm serious, Big L ain't playin' games
+I should get foul and buck wild and start sayin' names
+But deep down inside, you know who you are
+Your rhymes are not up to par, you fake superstar
+And that really gets on my nerve
+When a rapper gets the credit that he don't deserve
+Goin' platinum and don't have no soul
+Some rappers are mad nice and don't even go gold
+I don't like the way it's goin' down
+Because it should be the other way around
+
+[Hook]
+I don't understand it (I don't understand it)
+I don't understand it (I don't understand it)
+I don't understand it (I don't understand it)
+How MC's take this rap game for granted
+[Verse 2]
+MC's — what's goin on?
+I don't understand, man, how rappers cold transform
+One minute, you're hardcore and raw
+That's what you was known for, but not no more
+You changed, you rearranged, you're not the same
+Your raps are plain, that explain why you lost your fame
+Used to be on top, then you fell like rain drops
+You turned pop, now you no longer gain props
+Whose fault is that? Nobody's but your own, black
+Used to make fat tracks, jack, but now you're stone wack
+So MC's, don't ever step out your range
+Remain the same, and only change with the time
+Unless you get dropped like a dime
+Go for yours like I'm goin' for mine
+But if you're rough, stay rough, if you're dap, stay dapper
+And never try to look or even sound like another rapper
+Just fulfill your own needs
+Some rappers wore gold chains, and now they're wearin' beads?
+
+[Hook]
+
+[Verse 3]
+This is how it should be done
+I'm not the one, and my raps are strong like rum
+But some MC's grab the mic and sound dumb, plus slum
+(How come?) Rap skills — they have none
+And I wonder how the hell they records sell
+They raps are stale and frail, and false like fairy tales
+Your technique and everything you speak's weak
+You got a little airplay because of your beats
+Your fame and your name, but your lyrics are lame, black
+Step to this and get ran over like a train track
+Your raps are poor to wack, and you went on tour with that
+Crap, don't understand it, 'cause rhyme skills you lack
+I got more soul than Nike Airs, givin' MC's nightmares
+Rappers be frontin' hard, and rhymes — they don't write theirs
+But still call themselves MC's?
+Please, how could that be?
+[Hook]EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Size ’Em Up[Intro]
+Hey yo, the streets love me, man
+And I love the streets
+So I know ya ain't think I was comin' with some fruitcake shit
+Ya'll know me better than that
+
+[Verse 1]
+Ayo, I shoulda been out
+I'm deadly when I pull the pen out
+Keep frontin', I'ma try yo' chin out
+I knocked a lot of men out
+I left 'em on the floor spittin' phlegm out
+It's either that or I'ma squeeze the gat and pop ten out
+You see Corleone, ice spinnin', jigged out, white linen
+And if a bitch don't like me she must like women
+Every time I come around you see your wife grinnin'
+Don't be mad 'cause yo' career's in the ninth innin'
+It's over now, nigga, leave the game
+I'm from the danger zone where emcees get slain
+Where thugs'll never hesitate to squeeze the flame
+Where niggas be takin' drugs just to ease the pain
+Hustlers flip cokey, 48 Hours like Nick Nolte
+When I was OT, yo bitch wrote me
+First day home I dived in it
+Left her thighs dented
+Now that bitch be pagin' me every five minutes
+Emcees I squash and disgrace, it's all about the Benjis
+So why your bills got Washington's face?
+A lot of cats be frontin'
+Mad singles wit' a fifty on top
+L tryin' to have the city on lock
+Peace to Biggie and Pac 'cause they really were hot
+Rap game, heavy hitters, it's a shame they no longer wit' us
+Niggas wanna be L, ladies wanna see L
+If I go to jail you'll wear a shirt sayin' "Free L!"
+What?! Word up man, them niggas is hungry
+They ready to bite a nigga arm off
+[Chorus]
+All my wolves in the house, are you live or what?
+See, Harlem 'bout to get it, all eyes on us
+Only ghetto niggas shine, who gon' rise wit' us?
+And the first cat who act, we gon' size 'em up
+All my wolves in the house, are you live or what?
+See, Harlem 'bout to get it, all eyes on us
+Only ghetto niggas shine, who gon' rise wit' us?
+And the first cat who act, we gon' size 'em up
+
+[Verse 2]
+Ayo, I hear a lot of bitch in your talk
+See a lot of switch in your walk
+Only thugs get rich in New York
+Time is runnin' out
+Niggas like,"L, when you comin' out?"
+Because they sick of all this drag queen shit
+Your wife's missin', I'm the nigga she was last seen wit'
+Me and Ron hit it up on some tag team shit
+A buncha niggas got smoked for the cash
+Used to ride Greyhounds wit' dime hoes who stuff the coke in they ass
+Crazy beef's got provoked in the past, lot of wigs got split
+A lot of innocent kids got hit
+Harlem World be the place of my birth, believe me son
+We breed the smoothest niggas on the face of the earth
+Mics I steadily smoke, rhymes cleverly wrote
+As long as I can rock a crowd I'ma never be broke
+Some hoes treated me like a bum nerve when I was unheard
+Now I'm icey, I ain't gotta say one word, you dumb bird
+I push whips while you walk all day
+And I hate when strange niggas wanna talk all day
+Clown ass shit, hate to be around that shit
+You don't know me, just say what's up, gimme a pound, that's it
+When I was at the steak house, pullin' cake out
+You was at some cheap Chinese shit gettin' take out
+How you make out, you took the fake route, you oughta break out
+You couldn't get a bitch before you put your tape out
+What?! Yeah, fuckin' punks
+Niggas like you will get robbed everyday
+[Chorus]
+All my wolves in the house, are you live or what?
+See, Harlem 'bout to get it, all eyes on us
+Only ghetto niggas shine, who gon' rise wit' us?
+And the first cat who act, we gon' size 'em up
+All my wolves in the house, are you live or what?
+See, Harlem 'bout to get it, all eyes on us
+Only ghetto niggas shine, who gon' rise wit' us?
+And the first cat who act, we gon' size 'em up
+
+[Outro]
+Geah
+Flamboyant Entertainment, Big L, Rondell
+C-Town, NFL, you know how we do
+One time
+Can't forget my partner
+Big brother, Big Lee, holdin' it down
+The overseer
+FlamboyantEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+The Big Picture (Intro)[Intro]
+One-two, y'all know, y'all know
+[Foxxx] Alright, we gon' keep it moving
+[Primo] Check this out though
+[Foxxx] We gon' keep it moving, we gon' keep it moving
+Get 'em up, y'all know what time it is, get 'em up
+[Primo] Right you are
+[Foxxx] You a true underground head
+You know what this mean right here baby
+This ain't motherfucking LL Cool J, get it up
+You know what this mean
+It don't mean lazy motherfucker either, get it up aight
+[Guru] You ready Prim
+[Foxxx] It don't mean
+[Guru] Everybody keep your L up like that
+[Foxxx] It don't mean nothing, but one thing
+
+[Lord Finesse]
+Throw that L up in the air
+We gon' have you do this shit
+All motherfucking night so get used to it
+Get used to it
+This is for my man Big L, word 'em up
+Put your Ls up, put your Ls up
+Put your Ls up, put your Ls up
+[Scratches by DJ Premier]
+
+[Verse: Big L]
+You know the game plan
+C-Town, that's my main man
+We never bring luggage, we go shopping when the plane lands
+Still run with the same clan used to be a Kane fan
+Everything I rock is name brand
+L'll make your dame swallow
+Your ice don't shine and your chain hollow
+While you front in clubs for hours with the same bottle
+Takin midget sips, I run with the richest cliques
+Tap the thickest chicks, plus drop the slickest hits
+You know nothing about L, so don't doubt L
+What's this motherfucking rap game without L?
+That's like jewels without ice
+That's like China without rice
+Or the Holy Bible without Christ
+Or the Bulls without Mike
+Or crackheads without pipes
+The Village without dykes
+Or hockey games without fights
+Don't touch the mic if you unable to spit
+Flamboyant is the label I'm with, motherfucker
+
+[Scratches by DJ Premier]EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+How Will I Make It?[Intro: Big L]
+Some people was born in heaven
+With a silver spoon in they mouth
+And had everything handed to them on a silver platter
+And never had to work hard for nothing
+Then there are some people that was born in the opposite world
+Of those that was born in heaven, which is called hell
+And had to work hard for everything they got
+And never had nothing handed to them... and never will
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+I'm only at the age of 10
+And life already seems to me like it's heading for a dead end
+Cause my Moms be smoking mad crack
+My Pops went out for a fast snack and never brought his ass back
+Nobody knows how I feel, it's quite ill
+Cause I had to steal to fill my stomach with a nice meal
+Too ashamed to walk the streets
+Wearing the same cheap sneaks and dirty outfits for weeks
+Even my holidays got damaged
+Cause on Christmas I asked Santa for a father and a hot sandwich
+I just can't take it
+And every day I ask myself, "How will I make it?"
+
+[Hook: Big L]
+It seems like my life's been cursed ever since I was a child
+And how will I make it? I won't, that's how
+I walk around with a frown, I got no reason to smile
+And how will I make it, I won't, that's how
+Aiyo times was rough, I had to grow up foul
+And how will I make it, I won't, that's how
+I always knew that I'd end up doing time on the Isle
+And how will I make it, I won't, that's how
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Five years passed by, now I'm at the age of 15
+No more fun and games, it's time to get cream
+Cause I'm about to burst, it's like my life was cursed
+I went to church, prayed everyday and it still got worse
+Soon I ran into a couple of guns
+Started stalking the streets late, robbing suckers for funds
+Now everyday I creep with the heat, ain't nothing sweet
+I rob for meat, If I don't steal I don't eat
+Then I lost control and started going too far
+Robbed this brother named Umar then got snatched by the blue car
+Where I grew up it was a living Hell
+Then I started to realize, I'm better off in a prison cell
+Now I can sleep, now I can eat
+Can't hit skins, but I wasn't hitting skins when I was in the street
+Aiyo, I just can't take it
+And every day I ask myself, 'How will I make it?'
+
+[Hook]
+
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+Doing time was full of stress G
+All the fightings and stabbings and men finding men sexy
+One tried to test me didn't find it humorous
+Beat him with a pillowcase filled with cans of tuna fish
+My time came to a cease, I'm back on the streets again
+I hope I don't get snatched by the beast again
+But it's getting crazy hectic cause I'm broke, get up naked
+And can't get a job cause of my jail record
+Before you know it, I was robbing them same ducks
+I even started robbing homeless folks for their change cups
+My whole life was deserted
+Either I'ma go back to jail or get murdered, but do I deserve it?
+All I tried to do was live the one life that I got
+But it seems like I can't get a fair shot
+I just can't take it
+And every day I ask myself, 'How will I make it?'
+[Hook]
+
+[Outro: Big L]
+Word up man, it's real rough out here man
+In the ghetto, all you can wish for is a better tomorrow
+It ain't getting no better, it's only getting worse, word up...EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Fed Up With the Bullshit[Verse 1]
+Yo, on the scene is the brother that's big, I'm not a little kid
+I'm a nig who don't dig a muthafuckin pig
+Cause to me they ain't nothin but harassers
+That misuse they badges to whip niggas' asses
+Then one day they slow rolled through the hood
+With the .38s cocked, 2 deep, up to no good
+They say that my skin was black so they attacked
+Threw me on the back and stuck a gat to my fuckin cap
+One murdered my man like it was okay
+For the life he ended he got suspended with no pay
+But if a man woulda took the cop life, he woulda got life
+And never again see the street lights, and that's trife
+Around my way they shot many teens
+And them cops better stop, or I'mma stop em, by any means
+The Big L won't hesitate to cold diss em
+And if you ask me, muthafuck the whole system
+There are too many young black brothers doin life bids
+Cause justice means 'just us white kids'
+So take heed to the rhymes I kick
+I'm about to flip, cause I'm fed up with that bullshit
+
+[Hook]
+I'm fed up with that bullshit (bullshit)
+I'm fed up with that bullshit (bullshit)
+I'm fed up with that bullshit (bullshit)
+I'm fed up (Aw, shit)
+[Verse 2]
+Whether it's the hot, warm, cool or the cold season
+Pigs be fuckin with a nigga for no reason
+You're just gettin home from work
+And gotta get searched and treated like dirt by a fuckin jerk
+Niggas in the streets got tough luck
+First they get cuffed up
+Then get roughed up, and that's fucked up
+This every day, not every other week
+Listen when this brother speak
+Muthafuck turnin the other cheek
+Or you'll be layin' in a pine box
+Bad enough they got .38s, now them clowns gettin nine Glocks
+I'm not only fed up with the cops
+I'm also fed up with them punk-ass cab drivers who don't stop
+They don't care if it's snowin
+First they slow down, then they see your skin is brown, then they keep goin
+Cause I wasn't white, the cab took flight
+But I caught him at the light
+And put a bullet right through his windpipe
+I keep a tool with a full clip, the trigger I pull quick
+Cause I'm fed up with that bullshit
+
+[Hook]
+I'm fed up with that bullshit (bullshit)
+I'm fed up with that bullshit (bullshit)
+I'm fed up with that bullshit (bullshit)
+I'm fed up (Aw, shit)EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+The Heist[Intro]
+Yeah, yeah
+Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah yeah-yeah
+UHH! This goes out to all the ballers
+Hah, in the streets and in jail
+Yeah, yo it's your man Big L
+One-three-nine, Danger Zone
+I got my man Tommy Gibbs and Corleone with me
+Check it out, uhh - bust it
+
+[Big L]
+Aiyyo I just left the studio, and it's about two in the morn'
+Just finished doin a song
+Now I'm ready for sleep
+But first I want spaghetti to eat
+And there's a good Italian restaurant right up the street
+So I jump in the Jeep, stash the heat under the seat
+Then I got a beep; my voice is hoarse, barely can speak
+I called back on the cell - it's Corle', mad as hell
+Told me to listen well as he started to yell
+[Corle']
+"I just seen Mike and Ben with your wife and a friend
+And they just got a room at the Holiday Inn"
+
+[Big L]
+"It's my wife, you sure?"
+[Corle']
+"Yeah, I'm sure
+I saw the whore soon as she walked through the door"
+
+[Big L]
+"Say no more, which one?"
+
+[Corle']
+"The one in Jersey son, right over the bridge"
+
+[Big L]
+"We goin' hurt those hoes"
+
+[Corle']
+"And hurt both of them kids"
+
+[Big L]
+Now I'm in the Range
+Switchin lanes, doin a buck 'n change
+I can't wait to touch them lames and them fuckin dames
+I reach the destination
+Grab the heat without no hesitation
+These niggas fuckin up my reputation
+I saw Corleone holdin the chrome
+Ice-grill, lookin like he had a license to kill
+And he had somebody else with 'em playin the cut
+Lookin like he can't wait to start sprayin shit up
+"Yo, who that in the background?"
+[Tommy Gibbs]
+"It's Tommy Gibbs"
+
+[Big L]
+"Oh, I didn't recognize you with your hat down
+Son you ready? We got this whole shit mapped out
+I hope you ain't scared, there's no time to back out
+
+[Corle']
+We gon' take the back route
+And pull the gats out and throw the mask on
+We ain't leavin til everyone's dead, and all the cash gone
+
+[Big L]
+We gon' get our laugh on when we through
+But right now we got a job to do"
+
+[Corle']
+"So let's do it!"
+
+[Big L]
+I stepped to the desk clerk
+Put the gat to her dress-shirt
+Told her listen up before she get hurt
+"They just walked in, party of four, two chicks, two males
+What room they got?" She paused and said "212"
+I took the steps now I'm out of breath; I gotta stop smokin
+Them cigarettes gon' be the cause of my death
+My heart beatin fast now, cause it's about to pop off
+Saw the door, let the Glock off, tore the lock off
+Took a deep breath, then ran inside at a quick pace
+I felt disgraced, I shoulda shot that bitch in the face
+Then my other two niggas ran in, each had a cannon
+Ready to take care what we been plannin
+[Corle']
+These two crab cats, we know they hustle upstate
+
+[Big L]
+We know they got stacks
+Cause they don't fuck with nothin but weight
+We got the cuffs and the duct tape and put it to use
+Then told 'em when this is over we'll be lettin 'em loose
+
+[Corle']
+And then I kicked Mike in his face to watch his head jerk back
+"You wanna live then tell my nigga where you stash the work at"
+
+[Big L]
+He gave me the address then I ran outside
+But first I took the keys to his van outside
+And when I got there, I found 50 ki's in a stash
+A hundred pounds of grass, and two million in cash
+I was dumb glad, the shit didn't fit in one bag
+So I got three, filled 'em all up to the T
+I put the bags in the van, then I locked the truck
+When I got back, Corle' done popped them punks
+
+[Corle']
+"Aiyyo fuck it L, we might as well pop these cunts"
+
+[Big L]
+Now that's four bodies
+Two outta-towners and two hotties
+And after that we ain't sleep for three days
+We hit the PJ's, split the money three ways
+Now we all laughin hard, gettin nice and weeded
+Celebratin nigga, heist completedEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Fall Back[Intro: Big L and Kool G Rap]
+Yeah, check this shit out
+Kool G. Rap and my dog Big L
+Holdin it di-down, ya heard?
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Aiyyo; I heard your single, you better make a whole new song
+If they said that shit is hot then they told you wrong
+Clown niggas, you ain't got a chance at all
+Big L Corleone too advanced for y'all
+I make moves and boss all across the world
+So don't be upset if I toss your girl
+I got cheddar to blow, pockets never get low
+Bitches sweat me wherever I go
+I cruise in a GS Lex', Cartier specs
+Nautica sweats with the fresh Gortex
+Jewels with baguettes, swingin like the Mets
+Throwin the dice and takin all side bets
+Never bummy; sip rummy, get money
+When I hit honies she felt the dick in her tummy
+On the le-low I see dough from here to Rio
+Flamboyant Records, C to the E-O - what?
+
+[Chorus: Kool G. Rap]
+Yo - all of y'all weak people fall back
+G. Rap and Big L, we all that
+Goin back to back where they brawl at
+Swing and walk with tall bats
+Leavin' big holes with small gats
+Have 'em all fallin where the wall at
+Yo - all of y'all weak people fall back
+G. Rap and Big L, we all that
+Goin back to back where they brawl at
+Swing and walk with tall bats
+Leavin' big holes with small gats
+Have 'em all fallin where the wall at
+[Verse 2: Kool G. Rap]
+Yo, from the spot to the cellblocks
+Hot as hell blocks where shells pop
+Where they sell rock to cop the SL drop
+Hood bitches in nail shops; no good snitches that tell cops
+People find bodies in lobbies, you can smell shots
+Niggas turn stale on the Rock until they bail drop
+New York livin, got a nigga four-fifth liftin'
+Send you as a gift to the mortician
+If you forfeit livin - my fortune is forbidden
+I say it one time before spittin
+Then I leave your forehead drippin
+I laid low then came back for more bread grippin
+More thread flippin
+More head from chickens, it's time to turn the ape loose
+Bust out the cage and let the gauge loose
+Blow the feathers out of your Northface goose
+It's G. Rap comin back with a click of brave troops
+Have y'all niggas runnin for homebase like Babe Ruth
+Have you holdin holes in your body like you play flute
+Lay you down til you get found up in the sprayed Coupe
+Prepare for the takeover - give you the face makeover
+The seedier row and sheet draped over
+Be found on the block with the street taped over
+Or comin out of deep coma, your speech made slower
+Corona Queens shakedown; I'm comin with the nickel-plate pound
+To trade rounds with all you fake clowns get down in the unsafe town
+Lacin it down, black guerilla fams kid we takin the crown
+Ya heard?
+[Chorus: Kool G Rap]
+Yo - all of y'all weak people fall back
+G. Rap and Big L, we all that
+Goin back to back where they brawl at
+Swing and walk with tall bats
+Leavin' big holes with small gats
+Have 'em all fallin where the wall at
+Yo - all of y'all weak people fall back
+G. Rap and Big L, we all that
+Goin back to back where they brawl at
+Swing and walk with tall bats
+Leavin' big holes with small gats
+Have 'em all fallin where the wall at
+Yo - all of y'all weak people fall back
+G. Rap and Big L, we all that
+Goin back to back where they brawl at
+Swing and walk with tall bats
+Leavin' big holes with small gats
+Have 'em all fallin where the wall at
+Yo - all of y'all weak people fall back
+G. Rap and Big L, we all that
+Goin back to back where they brawl at
+Swing and walk with tall bats
+Leavin' big holes with small gats
+Have 'em all fallin where the wall at
+[Outro - Kool G. Rap]
+Yo Kool G. Rap, holdin it down with the hazardous Big L
+Know what I mean? {​*echoes*}​EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Now or Never[Hook]
+It's time to make power moves and get the chedda
+And buy the real nice things that makes life better
+No foolish acts, moves must be clever
+I'm down for whatever, I gotta blow son, it's now or never
+
+[Verse 1]
+I walk through the ruggedest blocks with jewels flooded with rocks
+Hustlin' on hot corners that be smothered with cops
+I must warn, my Harlem crew roll strong
+Word bond, we leave mics torn
+Y'all brothers slept too long, now it's on
+L Corleone will never flop, records are forever hot
+Front on me, you better not
+I keep the Barreta cocked
+This goes out to my people's up town
+Downtown, mid town, across town, and outta town
+You see me flossin often, at all the club sites
+At the bars buyin Cristals like they bud lights
+My style is hard like strong lumber
+Dime pieces get the digits, chicken heads get the wrong number
+
+[Chrous]
+
+[Verse 2]
+Yo I announce facts
+When I get busy over bounce tracks
+Droppin lethal raps on wax so I can count stacks
+I keep a heavy knot, got a spot on every block
+Honeys that’s very hot get slid to the Marriott
+95' was a beautiful year for L
+Now I'm back and all the ladies still cheer for L
+Whatever I write is gonna be tight
+Cos if makin' hits is wrong I don't wanna be right
+Never the less, the East is were my crew rest
+We bust caps that go through vests
+We only do what we do best
+And that's cripplin' you brittle men
+Since you wanna play rough, then say hello to my little friend
+[Hook] {X2}
+
+[Verse 3]
+I like drop tops when it's hot
+I like Lands when it's snowy
+Bank account is fat like Joey
+I'm not very religious, you wouldn't call me holy
+Sometimes my hair’s corn-rowed, sometimes its fro-y
+Spark up the you know what, pop the moey
+L stay flossin, Presidential Rolly
+Y'all brothers know me, I step in parties with minks and fly links
+Shorties hittin me with eyewinks as I buy drinks
+And every girl I got looks like a model
+If you ever see me with a chicken then she must of a hit the lotto
+Uptown is my home, and where I roam
+I stand alone, Big L Corleone got it sewn
+Sellin' weight in and outta state to generate cake
+The one jakes hate
+Got homicide, runnin' out of yellow tape
+I pack toast with infra red scopes, I turn crews to dead folks
+If y'all fellas is playas, I'm the head coach
+
+[Hook] {X2}
+
+Word up son It's time to blow
+Stack that dough create a better life for me and my fam knaa i mean
+I've seen the ghetto all my life, its time i see some different
+Get the picture... The big pictureEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Holdin’ It Down[Produced by Pete Rock]
+
+[Intro: Big L & Pete Rock]
+Yea yeah, Flamboyant Entertainment
+Big L
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Yo, y'all fellas like to stress them chicks
+Impress them chicks, spend money to dress them chicks
+I sex them chicks and send 'em home
+Corleone is known to be stoned
+When I bone, I'm rubbered up in case that shit full blown
+The other night around 8 P.M
+Pockets crazy slim, jumped out the grey BM
+Went to the ATM, took a thou' out
+Then later on, I had to wild out
+In the club, knocked some coward and his pal out
+Then afterwards went to the restroom, pissed Cristal out
+Now I'm thinkin' which chick number I could dial out?
+'Cause it's L, the Harlem pimp, baby, for real
+I got more dimes than that Sprint lady, and that's ill
+Playa haters be givin' me harsh looks
+But I'm tryin' to sell records like Garth Brooks
+So F 'em all, when it's cold I throw the skelly on
+Illegal chips, keep my celly on
+Mega-ice is what I'm heavy on
+If it ain't Cristal, boo, I guess it's Perignon
+If the na-na's too tight, I throw some jelly on
+Yo, try to tax and watch the 9 mill burst
+I've been off the scene over three years and cats is still thirst
+To hear Big L drop an ill verse
+So all you unsigned cats that wanna battle - get a deal first
+I sport the bulletproof, fitted hat
+That attitude - you better get rid of that
+Wherever you floss is where you gon' get it at
+What? I stay strapped, I go to sleep with my steel
+Makin' figures while you broke cats is keepin' it real
+L is rap's most livest cat, I'm gettin' stacks
+While you askin' people "Do you want fries with that?"
+I rob fags in the staircase, no mask, bare-faced
+The one police wouldn't dare chase
+Keep my gear laced
+Do I walk around without papes? No way, pal
+Word up - my money longer than the O.J. trial
+[Chorus: Miss Jones]
+Harlem World keep holdin' it downnnnn
+Big L, Be The Long overdue (Big L)
+Do you still got it got it? ("It's so amazin'!")
+Yeah, yeah, yeah.. Harlem World keep holdin' it down, for Big L
+Nigga long overdue - niggas wanna know
+Do you still got it got it? ("It's so amazin'!")
+
+[Verse 2: Stan Spit]
+Stan Spit, yo, uh
+Yo what the hell y'all can tell Spit? Not shit
+I did a flick and bounced on L's shit
+Well shit, expect me to go platinum
+That's the only reason why I'm rappin'
+And since L passed, niggas expect me to make it happen
+With no release date, I sell in each state
+I'm the type to drive to Philly, for a cheese-steak
+So what I'm a Harlem king, doin' my thing
+My name ring - chains and dames what the fame bring
+After platinum it's the same thing
+And niggas'll never learn
+Til I pull the steel and make they lover burn
+You don't get another turn, game's over
+Here's my flamethrower
+Rearrange your Rover, Harlem soldier
+Wait til I get older - and we won't stop
+I thought Mase told ya
+Nigga Stan he do what he gotta
+And these haters can't do me nada
+Be in Nevada, with a lot of enchilada
+[Chorus: Miss Jones]
+Harlem World keep holdin' it downnnnn
+Big L, Be The Long overdue (Big L)
+Do you still got it got it? ("It's so amazin'!")
+Yeah yeah yeah.. Harlem World keep holdin' it down, for Big L
+Nigga long overdue - niggas wanna know
+Do you still got it got it? ("It's so amazin'!")
+
+[Verse 3: A.G.]
+Yo, yo move the fuck back
+A bring the heat, when I touch tracks
+These niggas beef then wanna chill? Fuck that
+These rap niggas with the mills, we deduct that
+I asked all my ghetto cats, where my love at
+Now where the brews, and the drugs at?
+Corrupt cats kept slug hats
+Asked the feds where the bugs at
+Puff with the dread, 'cause I puff, black
+High, til I die, and you can trust that
+All I wanna know - is the club packed?
+I see the haters sweatin' shorty, but I dug that
+She put my nut sack back where her lungs at - little ho
+And them niggas who owe, give up that
+Huh, it's me and Corle', like Eddie and Nolte
+Go 'head and provoke me
+Heard you rap, wanna rhyme? Better be dope B
+Still "Diggin", still livin', still givin'
+Y'all the ill written, still fuckin' like Bill Clinton
+[Chorus: Miss Jones]
+Harlem World keep holdin' it downnnnn
+Big L, Be The Long overdue (Big L)
+Do you still got it got it? ("It's so amazin'!")
+Yeah yeah yeah.. Harlem World keep holdin' it down, for Big L
+Nigga long overdue - niggas wanna know
+Do you still got it got it? ("It's so amazin'!")
+
+[Outro: A.G.]
+Big LEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Casualties of a Dice Game[Intro]
+It's Flamboyant y'all
+Yeah, yeah yeah, Corleone y'all
+
+[Verse]
+Me and my man was cruisin through the streets and everything was flowin nice
+The corner's crowded, niggas must be rollin dice
+I parked the ride so my nigga Iroc can crash the lye spot
+And I'mma gamble until he come back - why not?
+Click-clack, cock the gat back, gotta be strapped
+The game was mad packed, mad cats pockets was fat
+They playin cee-lo, my dick get hard when I see dough
+I bets nothin less than a G yo, you know my steelo
+First I was losin then I started throwin headcrack
+After headcrack, got my bread back, jumped in my red Ac'
+I'm waitin for my nigga to come out of the spot
+I see niggas startin to plot, and I'm far from my block
+Finally he walked out, told him, "Hop the fuck in"
+On my face he saw the grin and said, "How much did you win?"
+I estimated about, 45 maybe 50 G's
+My man was hungry so I dropped him off at Mickey D's
+Now I'm alone, headin home to rest my dome
+Spotted some niggas trailin so I picked up the phone
+Called Bones, I said, "Yo son, I'm on the run
+Need your help before I get done
+Meet me downstairs, bring your big gun"
+I don't believe this, this nigga said he can't make it
+Cause some bitch is in his house butt-naked
+And then he hung up
+And this supposed to be my man and he don't give a fuck
+That duck sold me out just to get a nut, what?
+I'm cruisin fast and they still behind me
+The same nigga who I won the money from, and his grimy crimey
+It's about to get, real hasty
+Grabbed the steel, took it off safety
+Cause I refuse to let these niggas waste me
+I started to cruise fast, then stopped short and made 'em crash
+And now them fags is all bloody from the shattered glass
+And one of them had passed, when his face smashed the dash
+I was injured too, leakin with a deep gash
+I ain't panicked, I was quite calm
+Couldn't use the right arm, so I grabbed the gat with the left
+Walked up to the car the creep was stuck in the seat
+Looked at him, shook my head then started buckin my heat
+It's over now, cause both of these motherfuckers asleep
+I think I'm dyin, I'm feelin weak out on my feet
+But before I got some medical help, I had to catch a cab first
+To one-forty-first and Bradhurst
+That's where Bones live, walked in the buildin, staggerin
+Lookin tore down, shot his door down and beat his whore down
+From the look in my eye, he knew he would die
+Started to cry, stuck the gat to his head and said, "Why?"
+Then he offered me, all of his cheese
+Then dropped to his knees and begged me please not to squeeze
+Then his brains got blast out, he's ass-out, then I dashed out
+Into the streets covered with blood, about to pass out
+The hospital's up, a couple of blocks, I'm on my way but
+Damn, here comes a couple of cops; I pulled out
+And started blowin they started blowin back I'm goin all out
+I ain't holdin back, I been to jail once and I ain't goin back
+I kept shootin, one shot caught a cop dead in his top
+The other pig ducked behind a big truck
+I was bleedin real bad, and couldn't stop it
+But still had the fifty thou' profit in my pockets
+The coast was clear, so I jetted to a park that was near
+Seen kids playin everywhere then threw the cash in the air
+I watched all of them, run for they share
+And all I can do was stare
+I got weak and fell on my rear
+Now I can hear the sirens, that means here comes the Jakes
+But it's too late, I'm knockin on the pearly gates
+Yeah, casualties of a dice game
+Never gamble with snakes
+Let that be a lesson to ya
+Yeah, it's Corleone y'all
+Yeah, it's Flamboyant y'all
+Big L y'all, Flamboyant baby, yeah
+Big L.. uhh
+Big L.. yeah, it's Flamboyant y'all, yeahEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Stretch & Bobbito ’95 Pt. I[Verse 1: Big L]
+Yo, check it
+Yo, I got slugs for snitches
+No love for bitches
+Putting thugs in ditches when my trigger finger itches
+I got a rep that make police jet
+Known to get a priest wet
+I never beg for pussy like Keith Sweat
+Is Big L slow, hell no
+Bitches get fucked on the roof when I ain't got no hotel dough
+I'm known for yoking jacks
+And beating them with smoking gats
+Leaving token Blacks with broken backs and open caps
+So with that bullshit, step to the rear son
+The last thing you want with Big L is a fair one
+Cause in a street brawl, I strike men like lightning
+You see what happened in my last fight friend
+Aight then
+I beat kids with lead pipes
+I leave a trail of dead mic's
+Where I'm from, niggas jewels get ran like red lights
+Old folks get mugged and raided
+Crimes are drug related
+And we live by the street rules that thugs created
+Clowns get smoked about a thousand volts
+For selling pounds of coke
+Front in this town and get a TEC stuck down your throat
+I'm telling you shit is about to get drastic soon
+I'm quick to blast a goon
+And break a motherfucker like a plastic spoon
+I got the looks that make your hotty stare
+I keep a shotty near
+It's the nigga with knotty hair who Gotti fear
+Tracks I'm know to roast
+Until the microphone is ghost
+Props I own the most
+I'm leaving niggas comatose
+Front and get your brain pinched
+Big L will have your whole gang lynched
+I started smoking dust and been insane since
+This rap shit was a great gift
+The other night some snake riffed
+And got a hot lead face lift
+All through high school I had braids
+I kept mad blades
+Stabbing teachers to death that gave me bad grades
+I cook the mic like a beef steak
+Cause my technique's great
+And I'm the nigga police hate in each state
+Cause I'm the neighborhood lamper
+Punk brother vamper
+Fuck around you'll find my silk boxers in your mother's hamper
+Cops drop when my Glock makes a pow sound
+I'm from a whyle town
+You know my style clown, so bow down
+[Interlude: Big L]
+Word up! '95 style. I got my man Jay-Z here. Step up to the mic. Yo, word up! The single's called "Put It On." It's in stores right now. Produced by my man Buckwild. In the chorus, he got Kid Capri and got a LG remix which you heard a little while ago. Word up! Jay-Z!
+[Bobbito] Stretch was wondering if that was a condom endorsement
+[Big L] Oh nah nah nah nah
+[Bobbito] Yo we got Jay, we also got "Da Graveyard," right? That's coming up next? With Jay-Z on it? Well, we got Jay-Z in the place. What's up, baby?
+[Jay-Z] What's up, man? I just come up out that hectic party, man, down in the city, man. That shit was hectic, man. Cops sitting there with shotguns and all that. And that was an R&B party, man, you know?
+[Bobbito] Yeah, well, the plague is everywhere
+[Stretch] It was probably Reef
+[Bobbito] Yeah, it was probably mad Daddy Reef. Yo, he beat you up, you know what I'm saying, so?
+[Jay-Z] Yo, I don't give a goddamn who it was. I'm here now
+[Bobbito] Yeah, you do your thing, baby
+[Stretch] So, you want this beat?
+[Jay-Z] Yeah, that shit is fine. Check it out, now. Check it check it check it out, now
+
+[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
+Brothers can beg and borrow
+Still feel sorrow
+When Jay
+Z like Zorro get in that ass
+Better luck tomorrow
+I'm too much, nigga, so never should you rush
+You need slow down, or get your ass tore down
+Check it out, I'm too cocky
+To stop me, you gotta kill me
+And when I'm gone, you can still feel me
+On the real, B
+The shit is eternal, I rock the Heavens well
+Even if they won't let me in Heaven
+I raise hell, till its Heaven
+Recognize, the black cat with the nine lives
+Get up off me, nigga, its bad luck to cross me
+I'm poppin Crystal, shooting game like missiles
+As projected, all ho's affected by this style
+I mack like Goldie, go back like the oldies
+But the goody, pulling R&B bitches wearing hoodies
+They don't be knowing the way I be flowing
+When I be going
+I be running the track like Jesse Owens
+I disrupt the natural scheme
+The way that you do things wit a swing and have em rocking like
+You say never you run, if ever you come
+It's never you run so fast in your life to never have won
+Come on and ride the rhythm
+I be producing like jizm
+Just like the gods I start with knowledge and follow with wisdom
+For greater understanding
+I'm landing blows and
+Knocking sense into those that oppose me, ha
+Enticin when slicing through tracks
+You're screaming, "Jesus Christ," he's back
+And God knows he can rap
+Me and L put rhythm on the map
+So give him his dap
+And me, I just take mine
+Gimme those, gimme this, gimme that, fuck that
+You never see me stressed, in a GS
+On the prize, my greedy eyes can't see no less
+Jigga incredible
+Even my thoughts is federal
+Like kidnapping, extortion and corruption
+So you know, beatin me will never come
+Like a nun or tomorrow, I'm too thorough, nigga
+I make moves, cause bowels to move
+When I'm creeping through your hood with a thousand little dudes
+Um. We're the peace like Islam
+I make your eyes rise like yeast
+Surprise, I feel no fear when facing y'all
+Betcha lyrics jump off the track like racing cars
+Emcee's trying to be the best
+And even in dying, couldn't be this def
+I see no reason to stop cheesin
+Ever since L said "Throw three Gs in"
+And we can get down and split the wealth
+That's when I found I could do it myself
+I get upEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+You Know What I’m About[Verse 1: Big L]
+When I cruise through the ghetto I drive slow
+I'm quick to buck a duck and I don't give a fuck about 5-0
+A hardcore life, I chose to explore
+Therefore I lived raw and went to war with the law
+My only picture was a mug shot, slugs what thugs got
+Pockets swellin' hot from sellin' tops on the drug spot
+Gs was clocked, fat knots went in the socks
+And cops who tried to stop shop got knocked when I popped the Glock
+Shit was ran right by me and my man Mike
+'Cause I choose to use a gun don't mean that I can't fight
+'Cause we could put the guns down and go one round
+With the hands my man, I ain't the one, you'll get done clown
+I can inverse my style 'cause I'm versatile
+Quick to burst a child, I'm livin' worse than foul
+I pack two tecs in case your crew flex
+I wet up the set in a sec and yell "Who's next?"
+To feel the wrath of a psychopath, shoots it up like Shaft
+Turn your staff into a bloodbath then laugh
+You'll get smashed like a deli snack, you're softer than jelly jack
+I attack in black with a gat and a skully hat
+On one three ninth street, Malcolm X boulevard
+It's full of hard brothers that's thick and quick to pull a card
+I tell facts when the beat start
+Listen here sweetheart, the Big L is street smart
+I fuck ducks and they crews up, make 'em give the jewels up
+For those who refuse I squeeze the uz and light them fools up
+I had beef with this nigga named Randolph
+Now he's in a casket dressed up with his hands crossed
+A beat down from Big L, that's what all pranksters get
+Like Al Yankovic, I'm on some real gangster shit
+I'm never fuckin' with no handicapped or crippled bitches
+Look at my scalp real close and you'll see triple sixes
+Crimes I committed, I'm a villain admit it
+I'm the type to murder you then tell your moms I'm the kid who did it
+Peace and love is somethin' that I don't rhyme about
+Fuck what you heard, you know what I'm about
+[Hook]
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+Knockin' niggas off, you know what I'm about
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+You know what I'm about!
+
+[Verse 2: Lord Finesse]
+It's the man with the rough flow
+Some niggas don't like me but I don't give a fuck though
+Cause I'm in command y'all
+I'm smackin' niggas up like Puerto Ricans play handball
+I ain't the funny type
+To joke around I gotta get my motherfuckin' money right
+'Cause I got the right game
+Definitely the wrong man to invite to a dice game
+I'm rolling numbers with no practice
+I'm snatchin' up the dough like motherfuckers owe taxes
+'Cause I got strategy
+I'm rollin' head crack trips and makin' all the brothers mad at me
+Word, I'm taxin' shit
+I'm shittin' on niggas like I just had a laxative
+Tryin' to earn props I ain't the one to see
+You clowns'll fuck around and get played like a drum machine
+Ya gotta find a better way
+I'll pull ya card, your file, shit, plus your resume
+'Cause I don't play clown
+I gotta get mine that's why my face stay frown
+I don't smile, don't try to pull my file
+I'll lay your ass like tile, you know my motherfuckin' style
+So just slow down 'cause y'all can't throw down
+And y'all can't accept that a nigga's makin' dough now
+And I'm livin' better troop
+And I'm makin' more noise than a fuckin' heavy metal group
+I'm a cool man, a brother with a smooth plan
+That's why I'm seein' more papers than a newsstand
+So peep it, don't try to run around or speak it
+Point blank I keep my whereabouts secret
+While niggas are packin' steel, actin' ill
+I'm on the D.L. with a female and I'm stackin' bills
+How I'm livin'? Everything is well
+'Cause a nigga like me, yo I'm ringin' bells
+Without doubt I got clout
+Yo fuck that shit, yo you know what I'm about
+[Hook]
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+Knockin' niggas off, you know what I'm about!
+Yeah! C'mon!
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out
+You know what I'm about!
+
+[Outro: Big L]
+Word, you definite know what I’m about Go get your steel and guard you grill, you bitch-ass niggas I ain’t having it for ‘92, niggas, word 'em upEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+I Shoulda Used a Rubba[Chorus]
+I shoulda used a rubber, before I went up in it
+And then ya monkey ass won't be sittin in a clinic
+[Big L]
+Ayyo, one hot summer night after ballin hard
+I went to the phone booth with my callin card
+And called up Joel, yeah you know L
+I told her come to the crib, yo mother fuck a hotel
+She said she was gonna come at ten
+The bitch came, but one problem, she brought a friend
+You know I'm not a rude brother yo
+But I let Joel in and slammed the door on that other ho
+So we was sittin in the livin room kickin it
+And all I thought about was stickin it
+She was mean, cause you know I wouldn't fuck wit a sleazy ho
+Yo we was coolin, watching some TV show
+I was crackin sex jokes, tryin to get the puss'
+And this bitch was kickin scripts beatin round the bush
+Talkin bout rhyme for me L man fuck rhyming
+Cause my dick, is hard enough to cut diamonds
+I said, "I hope you ain't tryin to dick tease
+Ayyo, cause Big L's quick to tell a bitch leave."
+Ayyo my game started fuckin wit her head soon
+Next thing ya know we went straight to the bedroom
+I knocked the boots from New York to Santa Fe
+And that bitch burnt me like a gamma ray
+I caught a cab, on 139 & Lenox
+Ayyo, I took it to the neighborhood clinic
+Because she gave me gonorrhea
+Yo, I'mma kill that bitch, the next time that I see her
+[Chorus] x2
+I shoulda used a rubber, before I went up in it
+And then ya monkey ass won't be sittin in a clinic
+
+One afternoon I was cruising on the Westside
+Bumpin my system, lounging back in a fresh ride
+Hoes be hotter than a sauna
+So I put the system on max, and bumped my shit on the corner
+I saw this girl walkin by who was hype as hell
+She was mad point-blank, she was right for L
+But she tried to play me like a statue black
+I said, "Sweeheart whats your name?"
+"I gotta man," "I ain't ask you that."
+She said in order to be with me you gotta be rich
+You won't be able to switch, I said, "Fuck you bitch."
+Another girl walked by, I called her
+"Excuse me what's your name" "Lorraine, what's yours"
+Ayyo, game I kicked well
+I said honey my names Lamont, but I'm known as Big L
+I was looking smooth with the jewelry
+She said, "L's for Lamont, but what's the Big for?" "You'll see."
+Ayyo, my pockets was extra thick
+"So what you doin later, oh nothing, then lets catch a flick."
+Yeah, I bagged that ho well
+Took her to the triple M, movies, meal, and motel
+And when it comes to this I'm a professor
+I didn't molest her I caressed her, undressed her then sexed her
+But I must be getting bolder
+Cause I didn't put a helmet on my mother fucking soldier
+I started stickin up quick
+And the next time I took a leak
+A motherfuckin flame shot out my dick
+[Chorus] x4
+I shoulda used a rubber, before I went up in it
+And then ya monkey ass won't be sittin in a clinic
+Ayyo L these bitches be burnin’ the dog shit outta niggas, know what I’m sayin’?
+
+Who you tellin’ man? These bitches nowadays’d have a nigga dick drippin’ lava
+
+[Laughter.]
+
+You know what I’m sayin’? Ayyo, these bitches’ll have a nigga, give a nigga’s balls a heat rash or somethin’ man
+
+Okay…
+
+Man fuckin’ with these hoes without a rubber nowadays is like bungee jumpin’ with a rope around your neck. That’s like playin’, [laughter], that’s like playin’ Russian roulette with a shotgun. Ayyo word, ayyo, ayyo man, fuck a rubber man, I’m a start puttin’ balloons on my dick, dog, ayyo I’m a start puttin’ suntan lotion on my dick or somethin’. Ayyo these bitches is triflin’ dog. Ay I’m gettin’ the fuck up out of here man
+
+Aight, let’s bounce
+
+AightEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+The Triboro[Intro]
+[O.C.] Phenomenon O.C
+[Big L] Big L, one-three-nine baby
+[O.C.] Diggin' In The Crates
+[Joe] Yeah yeah, this is Joe the God, Terror Squad reppin
+
+[Verse 1: O.C.]
+Yo, yo, yo
+I'm from a place where them niggas don't, talk no shit
+Where them wigs get split, where the guns forever click
+Where the track stars come to warm up for a race
+Blue and whites ride by and niggas yell, "Fuck them Jakes!"
+So much respect, I can lay dough on the floor
+Walk away and come back without cats runnin off
+I'm a model ho's wet dream, in her sleep
+Performin X-rated fuck scenes, me goin deep
+O.C. the Starchild, let your cameras record
+I'm like a man bein honored at the Grammy awards
+I pitch lines like fastballs, mush-out, rap my ass off
+Knuckle gaze crumblin your glass jaw
+Supreme figure, drink liquor, what team thicker?
+"The Big Picture" be the motherfuckin theme nigga
+Flamboyant forever, this is how it goes
+Pray we don't clap your way when the gats explode
+
+[Hook x2: Remi Martin and O.C.]
+[Remi] Where Brooklyn at?
+[O.C.] Yo B-K don't play
+[Remi] Harlem World
+[O.C.] Where niggas get the money all day
+[Remi] Boogie Down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
+[Both] Triboro, so thorough, always
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Where I'm from, dudes get sliced, cause crews is trife
+And you might lose your life for your jewels and ice
+I'ma slide to the telly and abuse your wife
+If I got one rubber, I'ma use it twice
+I give young fools advice about the rules of heist
+When I rock 'gators, hoes be like, "Them shoes is nice"
+Dimes I'm willin to hit, I stay drillin a chick
+They all know I ain't shit, but they still on my dick
+And I never walk the streets without the vest and the chrome
+'Cause all my jewels be Rocky like Sylvester Stallone
+I blast the tech at your dome to leave you restin alone
+Go home and puff a fat bag of sess 'til I'm gone
+You got this nigga frontin like he the, main event
+When his album ain't even last long, it came and went
+I'm like Gotti to him, I throw the shotty to him
+Niggas don't want it with L, they like, "Anybody but him!"
+
+[Hook x2: Remi Martin and O.C.]
+[Remi] Where Brooklyn at?
+[O.C.] Yo B-K don't play
+[Remi] Harlem World
+[O.C.] Where niggas get the money all day
+[Remi] Boogie Down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
+[Both] Triboro, so thorough, always
+[Verse 3: Fat Joe]
+Hoodied down with the mac, Boogie Down where it's at
+Fuck around hear the sound of the gats
+Wanna clown, we react, fuck that
+Do you know what you do when you fool with Joey Crack?
+I'm coke on the streets, I'm open for beef
+I'm hoping you reach so we can go with the heat
+I'm like a nigga that you just can't kill
+Niggas spittin that hot shit, but just ain't real
+Uhh, it's like you muh'fuckers frontin for me
+Nuttin to see, when I'm the one you wantin to be
+Lovin the stee', come through plush in the V
+Got niggas mad 'cause they payin' while we fuckin for free
+Make Trizz a household, live what I told
+I only speak that true shit that I know
+Besides y'all don't want it with us
+A hundred or plus, killers that be lovin to bust
+What the fuck?
+
+[Hook]
+
+[Verse 4: Remi Martin]
+Yo Remi so crazy, rhymes be blazing
+Styles just switch like hips on gay men
+Trips to the Caymans, rich and famous
+Rhymes so hot my spit be flaming
+Benz be rimmed up, doo be pinned up
+Bitch talk slick whole crew get hemmed up
+My shit drastic, all type of tactics
+Rip shit flip shit, spit shit backwards
+Screw you, don't let the pretty face fool you
+I kick shit like kung-fu and I jam like guns do
+You got one? I want two like water, I run through
+Psycho, make you wanna change your whole mic flow
+Floss it, givin bitches lyrical abortions
+Stay cautioned, my first shit was just a lil portion
+I come back with more shit, playback some raw shit
+You can't rock, so I'mma take your spot make you forfeit
+[Hook x2: Remi Martin and O.C.]
+[Remi] Where Brooklyn at?
+[O.C.] Yo B-K don't play
+[Remi] Harlem World
+[O.C.] Where niggas get the money all day
+[Remi] Boogie Down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
+[Both] Triboro, so thorough, alwaysEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+’93 Stretch & Bobbito Freestyle[Big L]
+You better flee hops, or get your head flown three blocks
+L be keepin’ niggas hearts pumpin’ like Reeboks
+It's the nigga that bitches suck and sweat
+Faggots I buck and wet
+Disrespect and I'm a break your fuckin’ neck
+I'm known to put a cap in a duck face
+I spray guns, fuck mace
+I'm a nutcase from a rough place
+It's called Uptown
+Front and get bucked down
+Walk through with jewels on, that ass'll get stuck clown
+I got styles you can't copy, bitch
+It's the triple six in the mix
+Straight from H-E double hockey sticks
+I'm the devil's son, like my song said
+I smash niggas like cornbread
+You can't kill me, I was born dead
+I wet shit up like a floodage
+Me and my crew peel caps and carry gats like it's luggage
+I'm nowhere near trash, so step to the rear fast
+Before I have your queer ass cryin’ like tear gas
+Every day I gain clout and my game sprout
+Some niggas'll still be virgins if crack never came out
+The Big L's hard to kill, when my squad gets ill
+You better guard your grill, before you get scarred for real
+Big L is a large boss
+Known for puttin’ more holes in a nigga body than a golf course
+I'm crazy quick to knock a duck off
+I'll pull out then buck off
+And tear a nigga grill right the fuck off
+You'll get smoked like a Phillie fast
+‘cause your shit is really trash
+Fuck around, I’ll swing on ya silly ass
+It's Big L the crime converter
+Sayin’ peace to all the niggas in jail doin’ time for murder
+I wreck the mic, plus the whole stage
+Rockin’ cornrow braids
+I'm killin’ muthafuckers like old age
+Known to have a hottie open
+I keep a shotty smokin’
+Front and get half the bones in ya body broken
+I never false teach, so listen as the boss preach
+I only rock leathers by Marc Buchanan and North Beach
+I'm makin’ rap hits, I snap flicks at mack chicks
+Just the slim ones, you won't see L with no fat bitch
+Yo I'm the nigga that they call A.W.O.L
+Punks, I slay all, on my spare time I play ball
+In the playgrounds, I spray clowns with trey pounds
+Makin’ gs from transportin’ kis on Greyhounds
+My shit is kickin’ like a sensei
+I'm smoother than Ben Gay
+Comprende?
+I'm outtie like M.J
+So Herb McGruff
+My mellow, my nigga
+Get on the mic and pull the MC triggerEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Games Females Play[Intro: Big L]
+Aiyyo, what's up? This is Big L, know what I'm sayin'?
+Callin' to see how that joint, know what I'm sayin', came out
+
+[Interlude]
+Aiyyo fellas... keep a eye open... watch out
+'Cause females be playin' a whole lot of games like these
+
+[Hook]
+Aiyyo fellas, you gotta be careful today
+Watch out for games that these females play
+'Cause some break the rules and some don't play fair
+You might get caught out there if you not aware
+
+[Verse 1]
+I know this lady by the name of Katie
+If you broke, she's shady
+You got cash? She's ready to have your baby
+The type of female the fellas stress
+Stay fresh to death, well dressed in Chanel, Guess, nothin' less
+Body got more curves than a S, I smoked the boots like cess
+And I confess, the sex was the best (Yes)
+Within a week, she had keys to my rest
+I done made her my main squeeze and gave her G's to invest
+Then one day, I overheard her talkin' to friends
+Sayin' how she didn't like me, all she want is the ends
+Yo, honey was sheisty
+Had me thinkin' she was wifey
+Trickin' ridiculous, givin' her jewels that was icey
+I said, "It's over, and what I gave you, you can have that"
+It wasn't even her — it was myself I was mad at
+Lettin' that dame use me for my name and my fame
+That's lame, but it's a shame how I fell for the game
+[Hook]
+
+[Verse 2]
+A year ago, I did a show for some dough
+Puffed a bag of hydro, then broke out on the low
+And on my way out, it was a female on my trail
+Who followed me from the stage to the Benz SL
+I asked honey her name, she replied, "Monique"
+Soft and sweet, from her head to feet, hotter than heat
+Jump in the passenger seat, let's go get somethin' to eat
+She said I was that Roc-a-Fella she'd been dyin' to meet
+I tried to hit it first night, she said she wasn't a freak
+Yeah, right! It's all good, so I waited a week
+Then one night, to my crib she decided to creep
+Knocked on a nigga door and woke me outta my sleep
+I let her in, before you know it, we was doin' our thang
+I drove her home, and said, "Tomorrow give me a ring"
+It was about a month later when she gave me a call
+With some bogus ass story that was off the wall
+Claimin' she's pregnant with my child, I think that's quite foul
+How is that? I wore a Lifestyle
+
+[Hook]
+
+[Outro]
+So watch out fellas... watch out
+You better watch out, fellas
+Yeah, you better watch out
+Watch out fellas... you better watch out
+For realEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Hell Up In Harlem[Intro: Big L]
+
+A yo check it out
+We about to make this shit real hot
+We got Big L, Herb McGruff and Ron G the mix king
+The niggas that hold it down for Uptown
+Check it out
+Bust it
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+
+I walk around with six thou' sippin' on Cristal
+My whole clicks wild I'm rich pal no more sticks I'm makin' hits now
+What I recite, you takin' hours to write
+So if you bite, just tell your man what kind of flowers you like
+I’m about as ridiculous as bankrolls, clothes and hostin' shows Smokin foes and strokin' hoes in the Poconos
+I roll wit intruders looters and sharp shooters
+Who spark Buddhas and fuck thick bitches wit large hooters
+I grew up in the slums of greed
+Known for Drawin guns with speed or
+Sellin' tons a weed cuz I got sons to feed
+Harlem’s where the thugs rest, in the slug fest
+We sendin faggots all the way to heaven like Doug Fresh
+I only roll wit big willie ass niggas
+So motherfuck all them little silly ass niggas
+I chew punks like chew sticks, known for droppin' new hits
+I know you want me ho if I was you I’d want me too bitch
+L is that nigga you expect to catch wreck on any cassette deck
+I’m so ahead of my time my parents haven't met yet
+So Herb McGruff my mellow my man
+Word up, get on the mic' and do the best you can
+[Verse 2: Herb McGruff]
+
+Yo it’s me, livin' in the lap of luxury
+Never ending funds, my niggas got the guns
+Hon's wigglin', shakin' they buns
+That's how it runs, money makin' in tons
+Mansion swimmin' pool, you know the rules
+Champagne and brews, flossin' my jewels
+City zone, mad game like pretty Tone
+3-57 chrome to your dome
+Hard as stone all Gruff cars got phones
+Like Mob style, smoking cigars and bones
+Who be that? Hundred dollar bills crispy
+Versace suit, slightly out to blaze and (?)
+Gator morry, sliding through the party mad pissy
+Champagne cooler filled wit Mo, Don, and Cristy
+Eyes low, from the dutch and hydro
+When bubbly get low, what the fuck we buy mo'
+I’m universal, girls love Herb's style
+Every now and then mix my herb wit' Tical
+I run wit real niggas who live life foul
+My clans off the hook, y’all soft and shook
+Now look, we never talk lives get took
+Straight up crook, Gruff can never live by the book
+Yeah and ya don’t stop
+
+
+[Ma$e & Killa Cam]
+
+Now that’s the way
+Uh huh, uh huh
+We like it
+Uh huh, uh huh
+And that’s the way
+Uh huh, uh huh
+We like it
+Uh huh, uh huh
+Mase rule Harlem World, baby girl
+And Cam rule Harlem World, baby girl
+Mase rule Harlem World, baby girl
+And Cam rule Harlem World, baby girl
+And that’s the way
+Uh huh, uh huh
+We like it
+Uh huh, uh huh
+And that’s the way
+Uh huh, uh huh
+I like it
+Uh huh, uh huh
+
+[Verse 3 - Mase]
+Yo, this Mase the newest and youngest member
+Of the Bad Boy click
+Representing on this new Ron G shit
+Yeah kid Harlem on the rise
+You don’t really want a problem with us guys
+I got my man Killa Kam wit me
+A.K.A. nigga K.F.C
+We blowin' this shit down on the 123
+Represent kid for the NYC
+Yo, you know me I be OT low key
+Icy rollie, puff on the O.Z
+Hoes think I’m cute, 5001 suits
+Now I got the loot stay in hot pursuit
+My people see dough, legal, Puerto Rico
+(??), watchin' for the police yo
+Yo, I can stay on the red, we always shake the feds
+Send ki's, (??) taped to there legs
+Bonnie and Noani, became my Sugar Mammi
+They hit me off wit mad loot plus the good punani
+Now I’m mackin' Movado like I got half of the lotto
+And be in Monte Carlo sippin' Remy out the bottle
+Parle wit moms Alize in my palms
+Stay calm, send drug money to my baby moms
+I don’t know what it is or what they seen me wit
+But these Moschino chicks want Casino chips
+I be frontin' wit loot 600’s and coops
+Mad bitches lickin' down my stomach like I’m Luke
+While you wit' your team, flippin' bricks to get your green
+I whip the mean triple beam deluxe wit the wings
+But real life, that I could die over this cream
+I ain’t tryin' to be seen in jail wit 5 to 15
+So I change my ways start carryin' the Qu'ran
+Follow the man that they call Louis Farrakhan
+Soon as I stop dealin' drugs is a career
+A thug appeared, hit me wit a slug from the rear
+It’s fucked up but that what happens
+When you dwell in these streets
+Only two ways out the game
+Go to jail or be deceased, nigga
+
+
+Where my man Killa Kam at? (Right here)
+What? Where my nigga Killa Kam at?
+What? Where my nigga Killa Kam at?
+Show them niggas how we do..
+
+[Verse 4: Killa Cam]
+
+Now check this, yo yo yo
+We's about to crush this, cats out for justice
+Crack yeah we crush this, gats yeah we bust this
+You got me, i'm everybody wise copy
+Without the Versace, girls still flock me
+And watch me, 5-0, always tryna knock me and lock
+But they know that they can't stop me
+Perfect me, check me, rolling in the sexy
+400 S-C, jet black Lexie
+Edible, sexible, running from these federals
+Catch me? They never will!
+Cam too incredible, respectable
+Pad locks, dead cops, mad rocks from mad blocks
+Dead cops now we getting mad props
+Creamy, white girl saying that I'm dreamy
+In made bikini, claim they wanna see me
+Used to ride the Beamy, me and Muscolini
+Bought em size jeanys when he came from the greens (??)
+Mud shed when i'm in the Beam over bloodshed
+Ride right cash jay, go get our assay from Tucker's hookers
+Yeah they should look this but when it's time pay
+They gonn' say they shook us
+Like Sandra, Conda, four pair of farmers
+And mad ganja, took her (??)
+On my dick and another bitch fonder
+But I wear two hats I don't wanna catch the monster
+Get me, hit me, Motorola flippy
+Wildness since bits, ya'll cat's are kittens
+
+No doubt!
+
+[Ma$e & Killa Cam]
+
+Now that’s the way
+Uh huh, uh huh
+We like it
+Uh huh, uh huh
+And that’s the way
+Uh huh, uh huh
+We like it
+Uh huh, uh huh
+
+Mase rule Harlem World, baby girl
+And Cam rule Harlem World, baby girl
+Mase rule Harlem World, baby girl
+And Cam rule Harlem World, baby girl
+And that’s the way
+Uh huh, uh huh
+We like it
+Uh huh, uh huh
+And that’s the way
+Uh huh, uh huh
+I like it
+Uh huh, uh huhEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Stretch & Bobbito ’95 Pt. II(Big L)
+My crew be deliverin hot lead when gats are clenched
+Rappers I jack and lynch
+Nobody can fuck with the way I be killing the shit in rap events
+Big L is the nigga you expect
+To catch wreck on any cassette deck
+I'm so ahead of my time, my parents haven't met yet
+I'm feeling like Billy Bathgate
+My rap style is past great
+I love to fuck a bitch from the back and watch her ass shake
+I probably got your mommy strung
+Niggas hear me and take more notes than Connie Chung
+My clan plans to get Guillianni hung
+Never had a gassed head
+Got loot cause I stash bread
+Try to tax and I'mma beat your faggot ass half-dead
+I stomp white cops till their life stops
+For a low price hops
+Cause my blood is colder than an ice box
+On 1-3-9 you don't want a block war
+Cause my crew will kill a nigga from the lobby to the top floor
+And every time a mack eleven bucks
+I'm killing at least seven ducks
+I never was a follower of Reverend Butts
+The bitch type I dislike, I'm rougher than a fist fight
+All chicks ain't shit, ain't no such thing as Ms. Right
+So we can never be a couple hun
+Fuck love, all I got for ho's is hard dick and bubble gum
+And clown emcee's I be attacking quick
+I'm on some rappin' shit and some car jackin' shit
+I ran up on this nigga name Mac in a black ac
+And put the gat to his cap, click-clack
+Sorry jack but get up out of that
+My .38 works great, so make a mistake and hesitate
+And I can't wait to demonstrate this nickel plate
+He didn't listen to what I was speakin
+He started reaching
+So I left him sleepin' with his temple leaking
+Aight, back to my man Jay-Z here
+
+(Jay-Z)
+As soon as I grab it, I eat it up like a savage
+And no I don't have it, I get it together like a marriage
+I'm seeking all rappers, I'm on my p's and q's and carrots
+Y'all don't understand, well, god-damn, don't you know my status
+I'm flowing the fattest, mmmm that is, mmmm, I'm the baddest
+No need to explain my name, the only thing that matters
+For suckers who bite me, they find I'm a bit much to swallow
+You're thinking that's hollow, the rhythm is too r-rugged to follow
+I hit you like bam, biggity bam, bam, biggity bam
+Let me take a little breath...god damn
+The kid is a wizard
+I'm definitely destined to make eight digits
+Met up with L on the road to riches
+As soon as I step up, nah, whenever I'm in the, uh
+Whatever I touch, whatever I clutch
+You know I'm gonna end ya, uh
+The nigga don't play, hey, the nigga don't play, hey
+Hahahhhh, here I come a-g-g-gain, run, up up up in
+Niggas are do ducking I'm boo buckin', fuck it I'm whyle
+But a boo boo boo bam, what you niggas gonna do to the man?
+I see you brought your little crew... and?
+I'm still comin' with velocity, check it out
+Jid-a, id-a, wid-I, zid-e, uh huh
+Ain't none of these clowns fuckin around
+Ain't none of these clowns standing their ground
+With the crowned prince of the underground
+Sounds like I'm ready to catch wreck now
+The heats on, sweat now
+Jay-Z's on, be gone to the next town
+Punk, jump up and get beat down
+Check it out, check it out, check it out
+Ladies be comin' out of their seats now
+Shit I got crazy skills
+It's a pity the way I'm ripping rugged rhythm through the city
+Like dunnanna dunnanna di-di-dun dun ditty
+I got rhythm, I, hit em with rhythm, I
+Hit em and split em, I did em, I get rid of them guys
+J-A, baby, baby please, gimme g's
+Baby, baby, wit crazy ease
+Watch Jay-Z get crazy G'sEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Doo Wop #5I'm comin through y'all, with the Glock buckin'
+Ya whole block duckin'
+Every bitch that I'm fuckin' with now is cock-suckin'
+It's like I'm allergic to not fuckin'
+Ya niggas is faggots like Rock Hudson and Boy George
+I destroy frauds with one verse
+Nigga, we could knuckle up
+Or we could let the guns burst
+L is the type to murder your son first
+To get my point across
+Since y'all wanna chit or chat with the coppers
+Y'all might as well join The Force
+Where I'm from, believe me
+Snitches get killed
+Niggas be hustlin' daily
+Tryna fuck more bitches than Wilt
+Takin pictures in silk, gator'd up
+Passport: dated up, hair braided up
+I fucked ya bitch
+But I ain't rape the slut, she gave it up
+I runnin' with Wop, you runnin' wit' me
+We runnin' together
+We get drunk and blunted together
+But don't front, the guns is under the leather
+Ready to ill
+Ready to kill, ready to peel
+Steppin to Corle', you better be real
+'Cause none of my niggas be lettin' me chill
+My crew be deliverin' hot lead
+When gats are clenched rappers I clap and lynch
+Nobody can fuck with the way
+I be killin' up shit in rap events
+It's like soon as I pick up a mic and start flowin'
+The people yell
+I'm rugged as hell, brothers can tell
+That none of y'all niggas is fuckin' with L
+When I'm that nigga ya expect
+To catch wreck on any cassette deck
+I'm so ahead of my time
+My parents haven't met yetEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Let Me Find Out[Big L]
+Let me find out this gonna rock the clubs
+All the thugs at the bar, poppin' bubs
+Dime pieces, shake that ass, show me love
+This goes out to all of the above
+Let me find out this gonna rock the clubs
+All the thugs at the bar, poppin' bubs
+Dime pieces, shake that ass, show me love
+This goes out to all of the above
+
+Check it!
+I be that playa with the big street buzz, who all the freaks love
+Braided hair, light moustache, a little peach fuzz
+That slim guy, all my life been fly
+Representin' one-three-nine, Harlem World, NY
+Yeah!
+Yo I was destined to be a star honey
+Plus I rock jewels that cost car money
+And cats like you never got rocks on
+Rappin' bout Roleys, and got a Swatch on
+Playa hatas don't wanna see me blow
+Flamboyant Entertainment C.E.O
+Huh! (You know)
+How cool can one MC be?
+Ya'll still envy me, cause I'm MVP
+Cruise through Harlem in a bulletproof MPV
+Man, you fuck around and get plugged like MTV
+Word!
+My style is rough like strong lumber
+Cute chicks get the dick, ugly bitches get the wrong number
+I stay droppin' like April showers
+Give me BET's address, so I can send Rachel flowers
+And I'm rap most livest cat
+Gettin' stacks while you asking niggas: Do you want fries with that?
+Try to tax me, and watch the nine mil' burst
+I've been off the scene over two years, and ya'll still thrist
+To hear L drop a ill verse
+And all you unsigned rappers that wanna battle, get a deal first
+I'm quick to smoke an ounce with my thugs
+This be that party shit that make you bounce in the clubs
+I defeat creeps, with techniques, on elite beats
+Always front row, never sittin' in the cheap seats
+Boo, I got too much cash for that
+I never date rape, I get too much ass for that
+And do I walk around the streets broke?
+No way pal
+Word up, my money longer than the O.J. trial
+Yo, my Harlem World playas, ya'll can shine with me
+Got my own label now, so ya'll can sign with me
+Ya'll can take it from the bottom and climb with me
+It's fine with me, that's how it was designed to be
+I'm in charge of all
+Just threw a party at the Taj Mahal
+Cause The Mirage is small
+We gonna build like construction, real hot production
+No playa hatin', just congratulatin'
+And I'm known to taste a chick
+Take her to my Harlem hideout and lace her quick
+And believe me, I know the right place to lick
+As long as I got a face, ya'll got a place to sit
+I'm a true Don, from here to Huston
+Strong like a Yukon
+No more jelly, strictly Grey Poupon
+Pretty ladies wanna see L
+Fellas wanna be L
+If I go to jail, you'll wear shirts saying: Free LEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+School Dayz[Production by Showbiz]
+
+[Big L: Verse 1]
+Ay yo Rookie, is a game that a fool plays
+I'm sitting here reminiscing about my school days
+Ay yo I used to go mad fresh
+Scoop the chick, stupid prick, get the digits and the address
+Yo they was jocking, cause I was clockin fast cash
+I slid a chick everyday after last class
+Strictly a sex thang, let me explain
+I hit 'em up, get 'em up, and put 'em on the next train
+My trademark was black glasses, I cut the whack classes
+Then slide off with some cutie pies with fat (hey)
+Yo all the fellas was amazed
+By the way I was macking females in my school days
+
+[Hook]
+Yes yes, y'all (here we go, here we go)
+
+[Verse 2]
+Ay yo the school I went to, a whole bunch rhymed
+That's why it was battles everyday at lunch time
+A brother battled me once it was plain whack
+I played him so bad he left school and never came back
+And in the lunchroom it was a Big L thing
+I made so much noise that you couldn't hear the bell ring
+One of us froze then dozed, to the top I rose
+And got props when I rocked the school talent shows
+My opponents got scarred fast
+That's why when they see me they do the hundred yard dash
+I left emcees and they whole crew phased
+Yea, that's how I did it in my school days
+[Hook]
+
+[Verse 3]
+When I first got inside high school, I wasn't known
+I roamed alone but I held my own
+I was a freshman, in other words, a new jack
+When you mentioned Big L, brothers was like "Who's that?!"
+Then I made the master plan, now I got a batch of fans
+So when you mention my name now, "Oh, that's my man"
+You see how, it's all about me now
+All the girls scream "Ow" whenever I freestyle
+When I roll the whole crews on the scenery
+So those who envy me can't do a thing to me
+I used to move alone, now my crew's fat
+I went from a new jack to a new mack, that's true black
+I'm cutting rappers like soufflés, I came off like toupées
+Yea, that's how I did it in my school days
+
+[Hook]EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Blackout Rap Show Freestyle[Big L]
+I be puffin' blunts in the house, hittin' stunts on the couch
+This year, crazy cats gon' get punched in they mouth
+When your wife see me, she don't know how to act
+So don't be mad when I blow out her back; For real
+Your whole crew's a buncha poo butts, made a few bucks
+J'd a few sluts, then ya'll started runnin' your lips a little too much
+Got chedda to blow, pockets never get low
+Chickens sweat me wherever I go
+Me and O.C. be in the Lex', Cartier specs, Nautica sweats
+Gore-Tex, with Presidentials on, full of baguettes
+I done sold coke, sold crack, sold smoke, sold smack
+Now I wanna gold plaque, can I get a soul clap?
+Some cats be col' wack
+You got the lye? Well brother, roll that
+And if it won't get me high, then hold that
+I'mma cop me a six, and cruise through the block with your trick
+I'mma keep droppin' them hits, it won't stop 'til I'm rich
+
+[O.C.]
+Any mic I hold in the grip of my palm
+I wave it over the crowd, dictating shit like Genghis Khan
+Nonchalantly deliver the flow like drug traffic
+Scolding, bringing somatic to this rap shit
+Bona fide. Mic set, you can't see me on it
+Master the art, so now I just flaunt it
+Born to live a life and die, but 'til then
+I'mma keep on writing slick rhymes with the pen
+I take the cherry from a beat like a virgin havin' innocent
+Bust my nut, bring rhyme to life like Genesis
+Poetical renaissance, endeavors are flawless
+Tearing it up when it comes to me picking up this cordless
+One of New York's finest
+On this trip, I coincide with Beatminerz
+Bringing out the best in me
+We formulatin' like a recipe
+Water and dough, we sho' 'nuff
+Bestow my presence
+Then I'm divine like the seven
+Keeping it tight, cause what I suffice is raw nigga
+It's only right
+[Big L]
+Like that, y'all
+
+[O.C.]
+It's like that, y'all
+
+[Big L]
+On the Blackout Rap show, with my man Phat Phillie
+Check it out, uhh
+We about to get into a verse like this
+Check me out, y'all
+
+[DJ Phat Phillie]
+Hmm-mmm
+
+[Big L]
+Yeah, yeah
+A couple of years ago, before the year nine-fo'
+My cash flow was low, I was low on dough
+Used to try to talk to fly girls, and they was like: No!
+I knew that all of that'd change once I started to blow
+Now my pockets are bloated, because I exploded
+Stay devoted, dropped a hot album, now I'm loaded
+I hang with fly stars, buy cars, for fifty-thou'
+The New York City child, thug with a pretty smile
+I love this rap game, that's why I married it
+It's a big load, but somebody gots to carry it
+At one point I was about to give up
+Then got offered a record deal, and my eyes lit up
+In 1992, boo, my dream came true
+First I got the fame, then the cream came through
+Word up, I used to rhyme all the time
+Whoever thought that slim kid from one-three-nine'd
+Shine down the line, huh?
+I used to sell cracks, now I sell tracks
+Listen up, cause when L raps, he tell facts
+I'm the type of cat to lay wack MCs to rest
+I was told to work hard to achieve success
+Words of wisdom from my father
+He said: L, when things ain't going so well
+Don't give up, try harder
+And never be afraid to make mistakes
+And don't spend your cash foolishly, save your papes
+Cause good things come to those who wait they turn
+Stay concerned, cause it's a lotta papes to earn
+And help those that's less fortunate than you
+And stay true to whatever you do, until you're through
+[O.C.]
+Yo, uhh
+O.C.'s illin', I will never, ever bore you
+O.C.'s illin', I will never, ever bore you
+To rock like I do, it takes certain zest
+I'm truly untouchable, like Elliot Ness
+See, my word and verse is fly. One moment tranquil
+Then the next minute it goes with the strength to kill
+I can rock a party right, all night, just trust me
+Not an MC out there who can touch me
+Anywhere I go, young ladies, they rush me
+When I'm on the mic, no way in hell you can hush me
+My mere presence will leave you in awe
+And when I'm through you too will call me pa-pa
+Now is the time to settle this vendetta
+Slicin' MCs like a Swiss-cheese shredda
+If you don't like Swiss, then I cut you like chedda
+Thick, slow and quick, great pain it will inflict
+The beat's on time and the cuts all click
+Elegant, never meant, I loves to invent
+If you heard me say I rock, this is what I meant
+I don't shriek, I speak, I could never be weak
+I got the crowd overwhelmed with my rap mystique
+I'm shrewd, never booed, I wear the MC crown
+When I step in the place, MCs, they bow down
+Suckas I will smash, they're not fit for the class
+Yo, when we get on the mic, they break out like a rash
+Cause my sonic, atomic MCs get moronic
+Chillin' with Big L, we like: It's bionic
+Charismatic, emphatic, bass has no static
+Strungin' off the rhyme like a cocaine addict
+Nothing but cheers, call O.C. the leader
+Def rhyme writer, fake MC defeater
+Girlfriend said you're sweet, but I'm sweeter
+I'll slay any MC in this rappin' arena
+Colossal, not a fossil, MCs are quite docile
+Teach what I'm preaching, you can call me an apostle
+Tall, not short, dog, and this is the sport
+I'm a soldier with the mic, and I'm guarding my fort
+And MCs are no bigger than my big toe
+And I get higher rating than The Cosby Show
+When I recite my rhyme, just for you, my friend
+Big L, jump on this mic and flow once again
+[Big L]
+Yo it's L the Harlem
+Check it out, bust it
+Yo it's L, the Harlem pimp baby
+For real
+I got more dimes than that Sprint lady
+And that's ill
+Playa hatas be giving me harsh looks
+But I'm tryin' to sell records like Garth Brooks
+Forget em all
+Yo, it's L the Harlem pimp baby, just like I said
+Right now, I'm going off the top of the head
+It's me and O.C., we be low-key
+Chillin' in the cribs, iced-out Roley
+Chillin' with my man, his name is Phat Phillie
+I'm about to get illy, L is a willy
+The Blackout Rap Show
+I'm cool like my man, Fat Joe
+Chew MCs like tobacco
+O.C
+
+[O.C.]
+Who's the fatso? No, not O
+MC pro-rap, I can rip the show
+With my man Big L, that's right, we representin'
+Name is O.C., I'll put my foot indent in
+Inside your butt like a slut on the call
+MC war
+Mics I storm
+My man Big E is on the back of the side
+MCs, pull away before I crash your ride
+
+[Big L]
+Check it out, check it out
+O.C. I got your back, bro
+
+[O.C.]
+I got your back
+
+[Big L]
+And we chillin' on the show called the Blackout Rap show
+It's like that y'all
+It's like that y'all
+O.C. and L could never be wack y'all
+Check it out, every time I flow it's a sensation
+Check it out, like
+
+[O.C.]
+Live motivation!
+
+[Big L]
+Uhh! Yeah, cuttin' MCs like Jason
+
+[O.C.]
+What? We been the ill ???
+
+[Big L]
+I'mma set it off, then you gonna set it off next
+
+[O.C.]
+One-two. Watch how we flex
+
+[Big L]
+Uhh, it's like that y'all
+It's like that y'all
+
+[O.C.]
+It's like that, we hit the cats with a base-bat, y'all
+
+[Big L]
+Right now, we tourin' all over the world
+
+[O.C.]
+MCs, just dissin' your girl
+
+[Big L]
+Uhh, we cool. You know how we do
+
+[O.C.]
+Takin' MCs to schools and we ain't no fool
+
+[Big L]
+Right now we gonna make this the very last line
+
+[O.C.]
+Sucka MCs, O and L is on time
+
+[Big L]
+Like that, ya'llEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Who Shot Ya Freestyle[Verse 1: Big L]
+Yo check it
+My clique is quick to put a bullet in a stranger's dome
+You shoulda known not to roam through the Danger Zone
+In Harlem is where the thugs rest, in a slug fest
+I'm sending faggots all the way to heaven like Doug Fresh
+Big L grew up in the slums with greed, known for drawing guns with speed
+And selling tons of weed, cause I got sons to feed
+It's a must that my toast smokes, I'm not like most folks
+Fuck tens and twenties, I carry ghost notes
+And it's a must that I commence to slain
+Any faggot MC who goes against the grain
+I'mma smoke Pataki ass and Rudolph Giuli' like a wooly
+I keep a tooly for any muli who act fooly
+So if a nigga disrespect L, to hell is where I'mma send ‘em
+After I skin ‘em and spit some venom in ‘em
+I run with intruders, looters and sharpshooters
+Who spark buddhas and fuck thick bitches with large hooters
+I'm the nigga that be jumping on your stereo
+So when I walk the streets the bitches be tapping they friends, like there he go!
+I never had rules to follow, none of my jewels are hollow
+Try to take mines and you'll be on the news tomorrow
+Cause I never was the type to start beefs
+But I spark creeps on dark streets and stop they heart beats
+To hell with silly games, I play survival sports
+Sometimes I be in the crib stressed the fuck out, with suicidal thoughts
+All my life I been a lady bruiser, a wrong chooser
+School refuser, drug abuser, born loser
+Clothes bummy, nose runny, it wasn't funny
+A little dummy who tried to kill his mother for insurance money
+Now me and the devil is on the same team
+I'mma hit the mainstream with ill raps that's poison like gangrene
+I’m better than every rapper that you thought was raw
+Peace to all of my peoples out in Baltimore
+I'm not a coward, so fronting on me, I won't allow it
+I'm high powered, fucking freak bitches like Adina Howard
+Front, get your belly torn, I keep a Pelle on
+I'm fucking with Grey Poupon and Dom Pérignon
+Cause on the Ave. I pump rocks, quick to give a chump knots
+You ain't tough, the only thing you shooting is jump shots
+My style is hard like strong lumber, cute chicks get the dick
+And ugly bitches get the wrong numberEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Who You Slidin’ Wit’[Big L]
+Yo what's the deal miss?
+I'm sayin tho', let me know somethin right now
+Y'know we been dancin all night
+I been buyin you drinks all night and shit
+You goin home with a nigga or what?
+Tell me somethin! Uhh
+
+Chorus: Big L (repeat 2X)
+
+Whattup miss, who you hidin wit?
+Who you slidin wit? Who you ridin wit?
+We can jump in the SL
+Rent a room at the best 'tel
+I make it last cause I sex well
+
+[Big L]
+Henn Rock and Alize I get drunk off
+Whattup miss? Get wit a real man and cut that punk off
+E'rythang gon' be alright
+I been - watchin you watch me all night
+I asked honey her name and she told me Celeste
+She had big breasts, honey had me harder than a Spanish test
+We on the dancefloor, gettin our boogie on
+I see the haters watchin me with they hoodies on
+Tryin to peep the ice under the sleeve
+I'm like, "It's time to breeze," told honey, "Let's leave"
+Took her to Ema G's(?), got some eggs and cheese
+Grits fishcakes and orange juice, freshly squeezed
+When she finished her meal, I said, "What's the deal
+For real - you goin home or you tryin to chill?"
+She got close, whispered somethin slow in my ear
+And it ain't hard to tell where we goin from here
+Yeah..
+Chorus
+
+[Stan Spit]
+I ain't on that hatin stuff
+I was feelin shorty then the bitch told me she was datin Puff
+I'm a average nigga, then she said she was in the 6
+My relationship, with that nigga called Jigga
+I'mma compete with that? I'm a corner nigga sellin crack
+Guess I gotta be a ballplayin nigga to bone Da Brat
+One bitch, I ain't even wanna fuck
+She runnin around, all open off Kurupt
+The ho I thought, was gon' be real easy
+Told me she got a man and he's some beatmakin nigga named Stevie
+What's wrong with these hoes? I'mma fly nigga
+I don't wanna go flip Mo' to Rah Digga
+Or Miss Lopez, bitch no feds
+She used to be in the Bronx, rockin Pro Keds
+With some Dominican 'dro heads, ridin on top this
+On the back of mopeds, titties all out - what what?
+
+Chorus
+
+[Big L]
+Is yo' game rusty? Around yo' dame, never trust me
+Cause soon as you blink I'mma slide her off then bust three
+And I only lay pipe to dimes
+A lot of niggas I know are takin care of kids that might be mines
+I love to go low, I'm freaky like that
+I never get caught creepin cause I'm sneaky like that, uhh
+It ain't my fault your girl be ho-hoppin
+And matter of fact, the last time you gave her loot to go shoppin
+Honey picked me up some dope shirts
+It's because of me why she's walkin crooked and her throat hurts
+I hate to wait, cause I'm not on the patient tip
+Just hit me off, we don't need a relationship
+And when you mention my name, it ring a bell
+Ask any female, nobody do it like L
+I met this chick Rhonda, who pushed the black Honda
+Took her to the crib and bombed her with this big brown anaconda
+Chorus 2X
+
+[Big L]
+Uhh.. Flamboyant Entertainment
+NFL.. one-three-nine, Lenox Ave
+Harlem shit, uhh
+That's how we do, yeah..EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Back Up Off MeFuck them other cats I'm running with my own wolfpack
+Keep frontin' like you's a thug and get your dome pushed back
+Cause you don't get down, that tough shit you talk is profound, you's a clown
+Fuck around, come uptown and get found
+I keep a pocket full, none of you niggas can touch my funds
+I don't fight no more, all I do is bust my guns
+While you home relaxed, I'm squeezing macs
+Bustin' off caps, those coward cats, will go to platinum plaques get taxed
+And I do jooks and sling pies to make cream rise
+It's all about these green guys, front your whole team dies
+How I'm, livin' so far swell you can't scar L
+Headed a cartel selling more cakes than Carvel
+And I'm, labeled a kind thug police got my line bugged
+Hope I see a grave from old age and not a nine slug
+I'm quick to bust a mean nut in some teen slut
+Big L is clean-cut with more jewels than King TutEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Tru Master[Verse 1]
+Yo while we hold gats, you hold knives
+And when you sold eighth's, we sold pies
+And when you rode bikes, we drove 5's
+There's no comparison son, s'just embarrasing
+I'm runnin' wit some of da baddest men in the whole New York
+We hold the fort while you crab cats is holdin tips
+Playa hatin, pushin stolen whips
+We at da dice game rollin trips, out of town throwin bricks
+Taking over, cooking up coke with baking soda
+I buy hot jewels and ice it down, while you go to the jewellery store wit short doe tryna bring the prices down
+You betta spread wit them 30 dollar kicks on
+Or get whipped on, knocked out cold, and pissed on
+L is a heavyweighter wit steady paper
+You da type to go to jail for a petty caper
+Then come home on good behavior
+Talkin' bout you no longer hard now cause you a man of god now
+Yo its amazing, L is blazing, always been
+Before i put da braids in, i use to let the waves spin
+What you be saying don't impress me at all
+And them chicks u be jayin dont be sexy at all
+Word life, everything that i recite stand out
+Go head and front, so i can try this right hand out
+Across yo jaw, L neva lost a war
+No respect for them cowards who enforce tha law
+You got sumthin to say, then cough it out
+Cuz cowards be wantin beef, but when u pull out the heat
+They ready to talk it out
+What is there to talk about, u was just frontin
+Now it ain't nuttin, ain't that suttin
+I should start bussing anyway
+And put one of u punks in da ground
+Ya'll cowards be killin me wit ya'll faces frown, jumpin around
+Like u scaring L, not even, cause I'mma be a thug until i stop breathin
+Plus I'm runnin with a smooth ass crew, that'd shoot at u
+You wanna knuckle up, whateva we can do that too
+Ya'll fellas like to stress them chicks, impress them chicks
+Spend money to dress them chicks, i sex them chicks
+Then send them home, corleone is known to be stoned
+When i bone, i rubber duck in case that chick full blown
+The other night around 8pm, pockets crazy slim
+Jumped out the grey BM, went to the ATM
+Took a thou' out, later on i had to wild out
+In da club, knock some coward and his pal out
+Then afterwards, went to the restroom, pissed Cristal out
+Now im thinkin what chick number i can dial out
+Cuz its L, the harlem pimp baby, for real
+I got more dimes then that sprint lady, and thats ill
+Playa haters be givin me harsh looks, but im tryna sell records like Garth Brooks
+So f em all, when its cold i throw the skelly on
+Illegal chips, keep my celly on, mega ice is what im heavy on
+If it ain't Cristal boo, i guess its Pérignon
+If the na-na's too tight, i throw some jelly on
+Yo try to tax and watch the 9 mil burst
+I've been off the scene over 3 years and cats is still thirst
+They hear Big L drop a ill verse, so all you unsigned cats that wanna battle get a deal first
+I sport da bulletproof, fitted-hat, that attitude you betta get rid of that
+Whereava u floss is where u gon get it at
+What
+I stay strapped, i go to sleep wit my steel
+Makin figures while u broke cats keepin it real
+L is rap's most livest cat, im gettin stacks while u askin people "do u want fries with that"
+I rob fags in da staircase, no mask, bare face
+The one police wouldn't dare chase, keep my gear laced
+Do I walk around without papes? No way pal
+Word up, my money longer than the OJ trialEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Games[Sadat X]
+Yeah yeah, watch us turn it up for y'all
+Tight broads watchin
+The Guru, the great 'Dat X, and Big L
+Flamboyant for life
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Check it, a year ago, I did a show for some dough
+Puffed a bag of hydro, then broke out on the low
+And on my way out, it was a female on my trail
+Who followed me from the stage to the Benz SL
+I asked honey her name, she replied, Monique
+Soft and sweet, from her head to feet, hotter than heat
+Jump in the passenger seat, let's go get something to eat
+She said I was that Roc-a-Fella she'd been dying to meet
+I tried to hit it first night, she said she wasn't a freak
+Yeah right, it's all good, so I waited a week
+Then one night to my crib she decided to creep
+Knocked on a nigga door and woke me outta my sleep
+I let her in before you know it, we was doing our thang
+I drove her home, and said tomorrow give me a ring
+It was about a month later when she gave me a call
+With some bogus ass story that was off the wall
+Claiming she's pregnant with my child, I think that's quite foul
+How is that, I wore a Lifestyle
+[Hook: Big L]
+Aiyyo fellas, you gotta be careful today
+Watch out for games that these females play
+Cause some break the rules and some don't play fair
+You might get caught out there if you're not aware
+
+[Verse 2: Sadat X]
+I'm in the breed of the bad guy
+Get caught in a mad lie, come in your crib mad high
+Think about me with the smile on your face
+Think about me with my hand on your waist
+And think about me with your hair in your face
+Even caught a case fuckin witchu
+Had said some ol' slick shit, that had forced me to hit you
+Had you set up livin swell, how you gon' fuck my man L
+Like we don't cross paths in these New York streets?
+But that's good, cause he's my man and we both shine
+And to say we don't love these hoes is a old line
+Honey just save some space in it so you can hold mine
+Her whole spine be twisted;
+Things she did and how she kissed it
+I kinda missed it, think back on how we dissed it
+Now we two-fisted, she ain't never resisted
+Left it red and blistered, shakin
+I could slam it if it wasn't NO money makin
+[Hook]
+
+[Verse 3: Guru]
+Games, these girls now-a-days they play many
+Techniques for getting your loot, they got plenty
+Suck the skin off your dick, just for some ice and shit
+In the beginning they're polite, actin all nice and shit
+But honey got plans to be pushing your Land
+When she got you - she goes and fucks your man
+Understand, you gotta lay down the law
+A lot of broads is fraud, they'll set you up Baby Pah
+Some'll try to get you stuck up, some'll fake pregnancy
+Most are after the dough, and the fame basically
+Yo you can't make a ho a housewife kid
+Pick the wrong chick - could be a lifetime bid
+A lot of cats be beefing over these honeys
+Not me I keep it moving they ain't getting jack from me
+Mack these freaks for your own enjoyment
+And one love to L we gon' stay Flamboyant
+
+[Hook]
+
+[Guru]
+Yo son you better watch these little fast-ass
+Little fancy-pants bitches with the thongs
+Heh, that's my word
+Yo, rest in peace to my man Big L, uhh
+Peace to the God Sadat X
+Guru, GangStarr, uhh
+Hold it downEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Still Here[C-Town]
+I be a Harlem World party pleaser
+You might find me on 1-3-9 sippin a Bacardi Breezer
+That's where I rest at, killin tracks is what I'm best at
+Jealousy, I expect that, I don't stress that
+I want a cutie with some tight jeans on, that I can scheme on
+Treat her nice, take her out and trick some cream on
+TV screens all over the U.S. I'm seen on
+It ain't all about me, I'm tryin to put my team on
+Because it's good to have a crew to lean on, mics I fiend on
+You think you can do it like this? Dream on
+I'ma, chrome my rims and ice my chain
+Fly clothes and pretty hoes is the price of fame
+
+[Big L]
+Yo; you know the game plan
+C-Town, that's my main man
+We never bring luggage, we go shoppin when the plane lands
+Still run with the same clan, used to be a Kane fan
+Everything I rock is name brand
+L'll make ya dame swallow
+Your ice don't shine and your chain hollow
+While you front in clubs for hours with the same bottle
+Takin midget sips, I run with the richest cliques
+Tap the thickest chicks, plus drop the slickest hits
+You know nuttin about L, so don't doubt L
+What's this motherfuckin rap game without L?
+Yo, that's like jewels without ice
+That's like china without rice
+Or the Holy Bible without Christ
+Or the Bulls without Mike
+Or crackheads without pipes
+The Village without dykes
+Or hockey games without fights
+Don't touch the mic if you unable to spit
+Flamboyant is the label I'm with
+{*DJ scratches*}
+[Primo] Big L!
+[Monch] Y'all know the name
+[Primo] He's still here
+[Big L] Ha ha, youse a funny nigga
+[O.C.] Play this {yeah y'all..}
+[O.C.] Play this {yeah y'all..}
+[Primo] Big L!
+[Monch] Y'all know the name
+[Primo] He's still here
+[????] My nigga Big L! {yeah y'all..}
+
+[Big L]
+I'm straight loco, to hell with you and your broke ho
+You ain't a big dog, you more like Toto, you got no dough
+I smoke 'dro mixed with cocoa, strong as bolo
+I pack a fo'-fo', platinum ro-ro
+Anti-homo, that's a no-no so fuck po'-po'
+I push the seven-fo'-oh and not the Volvo
+C-Town push the six-oh-oh, I'm with a bitch on dolo
+Chips from here to Acapulco
+While y'all buck for legs I, buck for heads
+I even buck celebs, nigga fuck the feds
+
+[C-Town]
+I stay sweatin out a bitch perm
+I love it when a girl ass is fat and they tits firm
+I take all the dough my chicks earn
+I watched Corleone do it, now it's Chris turn
+{A "Hoodlum" like Fishburne}
+Act illy, get smacked silly with the mac-milli
+You see me on MTV and Rap City
+Keep frontin, I'mma step out, mask on with the tec out
+Squeeze shots and make you check out
+{*DJ scratches*}
+[Primo] Big L!
+[Monch] Y'all know the name
+[Primo] He's still here
+.. {yeah y'all..}
+[Primo] Big L!
+
+[Big L]
+My underground niggas, y'all can shine with me
+Got my own label now, so y'all can sign with me
+Y'all can take me from the bottom and climb with me
+That's fine with me, that's how it was designed to be
+
+[C-Town]
+I be that young teen with DUMB cream
+I refuse to be unheard or unseen, I shine like the sunbeam
+All you niggas better come clean, before my gun scream
+Rap's a fun thing, only roll with one team
+Flamboyant Entertainment, that's who I came with
+I pack a nine and once I aim it, I got to flame it
+Push a blue eight, got props from here to Kuwait
+And while your crew hate, you hear me on Big L new tape
+They call me C-Town, I snatch mics like a rebound
+Pack a three-pound, that's my prerog' like B. Brown
+I rip shows in large arenas, like the Garden or Meadowlands
+Got nuttin but love for all my ghetto fans
+On 1-3-9 and Lenox eyes get shut
+The "Danger Zone" is where pies get cut, where all the guys get stuck
+Try to front we gon' size you up
+Like Corleone'll grab the chrome and throw five in your gut
+[Big L]
+Aiyyo, gats we bust (backs we crush)
+Only hot tracks we lust (crazy stacks we clutch)
+And we need plaques to touch (that say platinum plus)
+Cause half of you niggas that's rappin now (is wack to us)
+
+{*DJ scratches*}
+[Primo] Big L!
+[Monch] Y'all know the name
+[Primo] He's still here
+
+Y'all thought this was over with?
+This ain't over with..EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Times iz Hard[Production by Buckwild & Lord Finesse]
+
+[Big L: Verse 1]
+I used to be a rich nigga, selling much crack
+To make a long story short, I fell off like a hubcap
+My operation got shut off
+I can't slide a slut off
+I gotta beat my dick to get a nut off
+Cause when a convo is struck up
+Bitches act stuck up, my luck sucks, everything is fucked up
+To get cash I gotta beg
+Cause every time I reach in my pocket all I feel is my damn leg
+Its about time that I feel cash, gotta get it right now, gotta get it real fast
+Cause all I got left is two MAC-10s, a army jacket, a ski mask, a hoodie, and some black Timbs
+I'm about to get extra ill, so I went to my crib, got booted up and got dressed to kill
+The first place that I hit was the corner store
+I pulled out and told everybody to get on the floor
+I took the cash and I jetted
+One kid tried to set it
+I bet he regret it cause because he got wetted
+Robberies I did well
+When you look in the dictionary under villain you'll see a photo of Big L
+Fuck a job, punks is gettin robbed and scarred
+Cause times is hard on the boulevard
+
+[Big L: Verse 2]
+Yo I was robbing people on a regular basis in many different places and all types of races
+I robbed gangstas, I robbed ducks, I didn't care who I stuck as long as I got a buck what the fuck
+When niggas see me they take flight
+I'll even rob Jehovah if I catch him right on a late night
+Keep a vest G don't try to test me
+A redneck police chief tried to arrest me
+Ayo that wasn't a smart cop
+Because I put 2 in his chest and his motherfucking heart stopped
+Its a must I commit crimes
+Cause I gotta get mine, its hard times, and all I see are dollar signs
+Why should I work for another sucker
+When I can do robberies and make G's like a motherfucker
+Fuck a job, punks is getting robbed and scarred
+Cause times is hard on the boulevard
+[Big L: Verse 3]
+Yo I was goin out, just like a crusader would
+I robbed everything that moved in the neighborhood
+Yo I was even robbing chicks
+I did mad sticks, I needed more dough so I started taking hits
+Blastin ducks with the shotty
+The trigger I squeeze with ease I got paid 50 g's per body
+In a year I killed 88
+So I made about... umm... fuck it I was crazy straight
+Fuck a job, punks is getting robbed and starved
+Cuz times is hard on the boulevardEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Principal Of The New School[Big L]
+I got the gift of gab
+To lift and grab
+The mic
+And recite hype rhymes
+That’ll rip and rag
+And drag
+A fag MC
+Who likes to nag a lot
+And brag a lot
+Talkin’ about the lyrics that he have are hot
+Step to this and get lit like a candle troop
+Rhymes I hook up, MCs I cook up
+Like Campbell’s Soup
+I throw rhymes like a quarterback
+Front and you’ll get bust an’ dust and crushed
+Bum rushed and all of that
+Rhymes never sound whack
+‘Cause I got ‘em down pat
+Your rulin’ time is over
+So gimme your crown jack
+I get hype fast
+And MCs might last
+A minute with me
+Because their rhymes are light as
+A feather
+And mines are heavy like a big brick
+Rappers catch a fit quick
+When I start to kick shit
+And I record my battles on a camcorder
+So I can sit back and watch me manslaughter
+MCs that tried to get wit’ me hops
+That’s why they all got tooken out like a Bensi box
+The crown is still mine ‘cause I kick ill rhymes
+A lotta rappers talk that murder shit and couldn’t kill time
+Or beat eggs or whip cream
+I’m smoother than Vaseline
+And I’m a stone cold rappin’ fiend
+A lot of new jacks are comin’ out, but that’s cool
+‘Cause I’m the principal of the new school
+I recite hype rhymes that shine like rainbows
+I pick up the microphone and play MCs like game shows
+And suckas are coppin’ pleas while I’m clockin’ gs
+Try stoppin’ these, lyrics nigga please
+Cause my rhymes are ill like a kid with a bad cold
+Your style is mad old, you’re small as a tadpole
+This is a giant here, an MC rap pioneer
+Before you battle me chief, go throw on your riot gear
+I’m hardcore, comin’ outta wars jus’ barely bruised
+Makin’ MCs go on strike like the daily news
+But there aren’t gonna be any comebacks
+Sayin’ them bum raps, your lyrics are dumb whack
+I wreck shows and explode like a landmine
+‘Cause L kicks the deadliest shit known to mankind
+Front on me, you’ll be history like last week
+‘Cause rappers be frontin’ hard and booty like ass cheeks
+I’m hotter than Florida
+I gets raw with a, mic
+Slammin’ niggas like the Ultimate Warrior
+The subject, the predicate
+L kicks better shit
+Couldn’t get passed me if your homeboy set a pick
+Try to play me out like a cub scout
+Better get the fuck out, my face
+Or get placed, in a casket
+It’ll be a tragic, incident
+What a coincidence
+My rhymes are infinite
+Like math
+And I go to work in a suit fool
+‘Cause I’m the principal of the new school
+The lyrics that I’m kickin’ are like lethal weapons
+Every time that I pick up a mic I see you steppin’
+‘Cause you want no parts of the L
+Hear the sound of my voice, ya start bitin’ your fingernails
+‘Cause you’re petro, and my lyrics are death so
+Could you win a battle against me? Heck no
+I just cruise and get smooth on the rap tip
+Go ahead, bite my lyrics and get a fat lip
+Or a broken jaw, you’ll get more than a beatin’ troop
+Fuck around you’ll be eatin’ soup
+‘Cause I’m a brother who likes to party hard
+Nice with my hands so I don’t need a bodyguard
+MCs be walkin’ the streets jus’ col’ frontin’
+Step to this and get beat like you stole somethin’
+‘Cause I’m not the man to be step to
+I won’t let you, ruin my repu-tation
+Across the whole nation
+Rappers that be basin’ I’m choppin’ like Jason
+I kick so much flavor you should call me the flavor man
+Here, take my autograph ‘cause you’re a major fan
+Of the L, ‘cause you like the way I’m kickin’ flavor
+Hot as an oven but cool as a refrigerator
+MCs be bitin’ my lyrics like a stone thief
+Believe me chief, you want no beef
+So give those lyrics back, to the right owner
+Or get beat until ya fall in a coma
+And physical contact, you don’t want that
+So gimme what’s mine and there’ll be no harm jack
+‘Cause where I’m from we don’t like that thief shit
+And I’m the last rapper who you wanna beef wit’
+‘Cause chumps I overrule
+I’m invincible and the principal of the new schoolEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+New YorkBig L:
+I drink Moet not Beck's beer, I stay dressed in slick gear
+Peace to my homies in the gangsta lean, I see you when I get there
+And it's a fact I keep a gat in my arm reach
+I charm freaks and bomb geeks from here to Palm Beach
+I'm puttin rappers in the wheelchair, Big L is the villain
+You still fear, cause I be hangin in Harlem and my shit is for real here
+If you battle L you picked the wrong head
+I smash mics like cornbread, you can't kill me I was born dead
+And I'm known to pull steel trigs and kill pigs
+I run with ill kids and real nigs who peel wigs
+My rap's steady slammin, I keep a heavy cannon
+It's a new sherriff in town, and it ain't Reggie Hammond
+
+2Pac:
+Now shit's constantly hot, on my block, it never fails to be gunshots
+Can't explain a mother's pain, when her son drops
+Black male slipping in hail when will we prevail
+Fearing jail but crack sales got me living well
+And the system's suicidal with this Thug's Life
+Staying strapped forever trapped in this drug life
+God help me, cause I'm starving, can't get a job
+So I resort to violent robberies, my life is hard
+Can't sleep cause all the dirt make my heart hurt
+Put in work and shed tears for my dead peers
+Mislead from childhood where I went astray
+Till this day I still pray for a better way
+Can't help but feel hopeless and heartbroke
+From the start I felt the racism cause I'm dark
+Couldn't quit the bullshit make me represent
+Hit the bar and played the star, everywhere I went
+In my heart, I felt alone out here on my own
+I close my eyes and picture home
+Big L:
+Aiyyo, you betta flee Hobbes, or get your head flown three blocks
+L keep rapper's hearts pumpin like Reeboks
+And every year I gain clout and my name sprouts
+Some brothers'd still be vergins if the crack never came out
+I got the wild style, always been a foul child
+My guns go boom-boom, and yo' guns go wow-pow
+I'm known to have a hottie open, I keep the shottie smokin
+Front and get half the bones in your body broken
+And when it comes to gettin nookie I'm not a rookie
+I got girls that make that chick Toni Braxton look like Whoopie
+I run with sturdy clicks I'm never hittin dirty chicks
+Got thirty-five bodies, Buddy don't make it thirty-six
+
+Biggie:
+I know how it feel to wake up fucked up
+Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell
+People look at you like youse the user
+Selling drugs to all the losers, mad buddha abuser
+But they don't know about your stress-filled day
+Baby on the way mad bills to pay
+That's why you drink Tanqueray; so you can reminisce
+And wish, you wasn't livin so devilish, ssshit
+I remember I was just like you
+Smokin blunts with my crew, flippin over 62's
+Cause G-E-D, wasn't B-I-G
+I got P-A-I-D, that's why my moms hate me
+She was forced to kick me out, no doubt
+Then I figured out nicks went for twenty down South
+Packed up my tools for my raw power move
+Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves
+For chumps tryin to stop my flow
+And what they don't know will show on the autopsy
+Went to see Papi, to cop me a brick
+Asked for some consignment and he wasn't tryin to hear it
+Smoking mad Newports cause I'm due in court
+For an assault, that I caught, in Bridgeport, New York
+Catch me if you can like the Gingerbread Man
+You better have your gat in hand, cause man
+Jadakiss:
+Uh, I learnt the game, I know what I want and I'm in it
+The time is now, it's gonna be up in a minute
+You look a ***** in the eye, you could tell if he tinted
+These fake rappers gettin by with these hell of a gimmicks
+They act like it's all love, only love is your money
+So when it's over *****, are you a thug or a dummy
+I'm neither, but I been hot so long, it feels like I got a lifetime fever
+And I ain't gotta spit, I could cough and still eat ya
+And f*** rap I make mills of reefer
+I'm a man first, tired of punchin *****z, so I'mma shoot *****z cuz my hands hurt
+And God is great, guard ya space
+One hand wash the other, both wash the face
+And I head crack so much, it's hard to ace
+.38 revolver flow, its hard to trace, what!
+
+Fat Joe:
+Nigga I can see the coke in your nose
+This ain't a movie, even he got his head blown on the globe
+And I was just about to find God
+But now that Mase is back, I think I'd much rather find a menage
+And everybody talkin crazy how they're AK spit
+But we know this investigatin, and they ain't spray shit
+Not me, I'm the truth homie, got the industry shook like
+"Naw nigga, Joe gonna let em loose on me"
+True Story, I'm bringin the T back
+Even Roy Jones was forced to "Lean Back"
+My nigga Dre said grind cook
+Now we killin them hard niggas, who said I must of found Pun's rhyme book
+Got bitches on top of the Phantom
+And the pinky got bling, like the ring around Saturn
+Cook coke, crack, niggas fiend for that
+And you already know the x is where the team be atEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+On the Mic[Verse 1]
+Aiyyo I shoulda been out, I'm deadly when I pull the pen out
+Keep frontin', almost tried yo' chin out
+I knocked a lot of men out
+I left em on the floor spittin' phlegm out
+It's either that or I'mma squeeze the gat and pop ten out
+You see Corleone, ice spinnin', jigged out, white linen
+And if a bitch don't like me, she must like women
+Everytime I come around you see your wife grinnin'
+Don't be mad cuz your career's in the ninth inning
+It's over now, nigga leave the game
+I'm from the Danger Zone where MC's get slain
+Where thugs that never hesitate to squeeze the flame
+Where niggas be takin' drugs just to ease the pain
+Hustlers flip cokey, 48 Hours like Nick Nolte
+When I was OT your bitch wrote me
+First day home, I dived in it, left her thighs dented
+Now that bitch be pagin' me every five minutes
+MC's I squash and disgrace
+It's all about the Benji's, so why your bills got Washington's face?
+A lot of cats be frontin', mad singles wit a fifty on top
+L tryin' to have the city on lock
+Peace to Biggie and Pac cuz they really were hot
+Rap game heavy hitters, it's a shame they no longer wit us
+Niggas wanna be L, ladies wanna see L
+If I go to jail, you'll wear a shirt sayin' "Free L!"
+What
+{Cuts by Roc Raida}
+
+[Samples]
+"On the mic is Big L, that brotha who kicks flav, god" [Big L]
+"I was rockin' mics since niggas was rockin' Pro Keds" [Big L]
+"On the mic is Big L, that brotha who kicks flav, god"
+"I'm floorin' niggas and I only weigh a buck and change" [Big L]
+"On the mic is Big L, that brotha who kicks flav, god"
+"Fuckin' wit me, a lot of niggas be small change" [Big L]
+"On the mic is Big L, that brotha who kicks flav, god"
+"Big L" [DJ Premier] "Represent"
+
+[Verse 2]
+Aiyyo I hear a lot of bitch in your talk
+See a lot of switch in your walk
+Only thugs get rich in New York
+Time is runnin' out, niggas like "L when you commin' out?"
+Because they sick of all this drag queen shit
+Your wife missin', I'm the nigga see was last seen wit
+Me and Ron hit it up on some tag team shit
+A bunch of niggas got smoked for the cash
+Used to ride Greyhounds wit dimes hoes who stuffed the coke in they ass
+Crazy beefs got provoked in the past, lot of wigs got split
+A lot of innocent kids got hit
+Harlem World be the place of my birth
+Believe me son, we breed the smoothest niggas on the face of the earth
+Mics I steadily smoke, rhymes cleverly wrote
+As long as I can rock a crowd, I'mma never be broke
+Some hoes treated me like a bumb nerd when I was unheard
+Now I'm icey, I ain't gotta say one word you dumb bird
+I push whips while you walk all day
+And I hate when strange niggas wanna talk all day
+Clown ass shit, hate to be around that shit
+You don't know me, just say "What's up" give me a pound that's it
+When I was at the steakhouse pullin' cake out
+You was at some cheap Chinese shit gettin' take out
+How you make out, you take the fake route
+You oughta break out
+You couldn't get a bitch before you put your tape out, what!
+[Samples]
+"On the mic is Big L, that brotha who kicks flav, god" [Big L]
+"I was rockin' mics since niggas was rockin' Pro Keds" [Big L]
+"On the mic is Big L, that brotha who kicks flav, god"
+"I'm floorin' niggas and I only weigh a buck and change" [Big L]
+"On the mic is Big L, that brotha who kicks flav, god"
+"Fuckin' wit me, a lot of niggas be small change" [Big L]
+"On the mic is Big L, that brotha who kicks flav, god"
+"Big L" [DJ Premier] "Represent"EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Da UnExpected Flava[Verse 1]
+Yo, I'm the one who made you get on the dance floor
+And shake 'til your pants tore, so party people, clap your hands for
+The one they call Big L
+I'm hot as hell, I'm livin' swell
+My name's ringin' bells, can't ya tell?
+So grab the Moët and take a sip
+I stay lookin' dip, mics I rip
+But don't flip, we on the party tip
+I get so loose on tracks that I produce
+MC's be frontin' mad hard, but got no juice
+I'm not the type that strikes out when I pull mics out
+Violate L and it's lights out
+And if you got no skills on the mic, you oughta dash
+'Cause rappers that's sorta trash, the Big L slaughter fast
+I'm gettin' high rates in all states
+Makin' papes with the crew called Diggin' In The Crates!
+I'm a rap crowd amazer, microphone dazer
+Big L is the man with the unexpected flava
+
+[Hook]
+Once again, it's the man with the flava
+Once again, it's the man with the flava
+Once again, it's the man with the flava
+Big L is the man with the unexpected flava
+[Verse 2]
+Now, when I'm on the stage, microphones I lock tight
+The Big L rock right when I'm in the spotlight
+Yo, I'm a young dapper rapper that dress well
+Foes I expel, the ladies wanna sex L
+Because my raps are real raw
+I'm hard as a steel door, with skills most MC's would kill for
+I'm known for grabbin' the mic and then droppin' a raw rhyme
+Big L is the greatest of all times
+So gimme my props, I want all mines
+Battles I refuse to lose
+I chose to cruise smooth like the blues
+I never hear boos 'cause I amuse
+In '93, I'm blowin' up like dynamite
+And don't think I can't fight because I'm kinda light
+L's a teenage poet that men fear
+Chief, to be sincere, you got no wins here
+I play MC's like a game of Sega
+'Cause I'm poetic, and this is the unexpected flava
+
+[Hook x2]
+Once again, it's the man with the flava
+Once again, it's the man with the flava
+Once again, it's the man with the flava
+Big L is the man with the unexpected flava
+[Verse 3]
+Now, I'mma kick flav' 'til the microphone's broke
+And I'm known to do the wild thing like Tone-Loc
+I screw whores, I do tours, I'm smooth like Lou Rawls
+I write raps that hurt MC's like blue balls
+In all zip codes, the Big L rip shows
+You couldn't touch this if you was on your tip-toes
+I live in the ghetto, and rap is my route out
+Now I'm on wax givin' my crew a shout out
+Since I'm paid, I could knock any ho' boots
+But L wasn't so cute when I had no loot
+Now I'm lookin' slick and my pockets are thick
+I need surgery to get chicks removed from my dick
+Ayyo, my cards I'm playin' well
+Picture that; a rapper slayin' L? No way in hell
+My rap skills are sharp like a razor
+But don't sweat it, this is the unexpected flava
+
+[Hook x2]
+Once again, it's the man with the flava
+Once again, it's the man with the flava
+Once again, it's the man with the flava
+Big L is the man with the unexpected flava
+
+[Big L givin' shout-outs]
+Yeah, I'd like to say what's up to Kid Capri, Silva D
+Stretch Armstrong and Bobbito
+Lanell from ninety-point-three
+My man Buckwild, EZ LP
+Can't forget Ron G
+And my man Lovebug Starski
+Peace... I'm outEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+The Heist Revisited[Big L]
+Yeah, yeah
+Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah yeah-yeah
+UHH! This goes out to all the wolves (*ARF ARF AROOOO*)
+Hah, in the streets and in jail
+Yeah, yo it's your man Big L
+One-three-nine, Danger Zone
+I got my man Tommy Gibbs and Corleone with me
+Check it out, uhh - bust it
+
+Aiyyo I just left the studio, and it's about two in the morn'
+Just finished doin a song
+Now I'm ready for sleep
+But first I want spaghetti to eat
+And it's a good Italian restaurant right up the street
+So I jumped in the Jeep, stash the heat under the seat
+Then I got a beep; my voice is hoarse, barely can speak
+I called back on the cell - it's Corle', mad as hell
+Told me to listen well as he started to yell
+"I just seen Mike and Ben with your wife and a friend
+And they just got a room at the Holiday Inn"
+"It's my wife, you sure?" "Yeah I'm sure
+I saw the whore soon as she walked through the door"
+"Say no more, which one?"
+"The one in Jersey son, right over the bridge"
+"We goin' hurt those hoes" "AND hurt both of them kids"
+Now I'm in the Range
+Switchin lanes, doin a buck 'n change
+I can't wait to buck them lames and them fuckin dames
+I reach the destination
+Grab the heat without no hesitation
+These niggas fuckin up my reputation
+I saw Coleone holdin the chrome
+Ice-grill, lookin like he had a license to kill
+And he had somebody else with 'em playin the cut
+Lookin like he can't wait to start sprayin shit up
+"Yo, who that in the background?" "It's Tommy Gibbs"
+"Oh, I didn't recognize you with your hat down
+Son you ready? We got this whole shit mapped out
+I hope you ain't scared, there's no time to back out
+We gon' take the backroute
+Pull the gats out, throw the mask on
+We ain't leavin til everyone's dead, and all the cash gone
+We gon' get our laugh on when we through
+But right now we got a job to do" "So let's do it!"
+I stepped to the deskclerk
+Put the gat to her dress-shirt
+Told her listen up before she get hurt
+"They just walked in, party of four, two chicks, two males
+What room they got?" She paused and said "212"
+I took the steps now I'm out of breath; I gotta stop smokin
+Them cigarettes gon' be the cause of my death
+My heart beatin fast now, cause it's about to pop off
+Saw the door, let the Glock off, tore the lock off
+Took a deep breath, then ran inside at a quick pace
+I felt disgraced, I shoulda shot that bitch in the face
+Then my other two niggas ran in, each had a cannon
+Ready to take care what we been plannin
+These two crab cats, we know they hustle upstate
+We know they got stacks
+Cause they don't fuck with nothin but weight
+We got the cuffs and the duct tape and put it to use
+Then told 'em when this is over we'll be lettin 'em loose
+And then I kicked Mike in his face to watch his head jerk back
+"You wanna live then tell my nigga where you stash the work at"
+He gave me the address then I ran outside
+But first I took the keys to his van outside
+And when I got there, I found 50 ki's in a stash
+A hundred pounds of grass, and two million in cash
+I was dumb glad, the shit didn't fit in one bag
+So I got three, filled 'em all up to the teeth
+Then put the bags in the van, then I locked the truck
+When I got back, Corle' done popped them punks
+"Aiyyo fuck it L, we might as well pop these studs"
+Now that's four bodies
+Two outta-towners and two hotties
+And after that we ain't sleep for three days
+We hit the PJ's, split the money threeways
+Now we all laughin hard, gettin nice and weeded
+Celebratin nigga, heist completedEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Hard To KillCheck it out, this the Big L yknowimsayin
+Chillin with my man Herb, we gon' drop like this
+Check it out, check it
+You better flee Hops, or get your head thrown three blocks
+L be keepin niggas hearts pumpin like Reeboks
+It's the nigga that bitches suck and sweat
+Faggots I buck and wet, disrespect and I'm a break ya f*ckin neck
+I'm known to put a cap in a duck face, I spray guns, F*ck Mace
+I'm a nutcase from a rough place, it's called Uptown
+Front and get bucked down
+Walk through with jewels on, that ass'll get stuck clown
+I got styles you can't copy bitch
+It's the triple six in the mix
+Straight from H-E double hockey sticks
+I'm the Devil's Son, like my song said:
+I smash niggas like cornbread
+You can't kill me - I was born dead
+I wet shit up like a floodage
+Me and me crew peel cats and carry gats like it's luggage
+I'm nowhere near trash, step to the rear fast
+'Fore I have ya queer ass cryin like tear gas
+Every year I gain clout, and my game sprout
+Some niggas'll be virgins if crack never came out
+The Big L's hard to kill, when my squad gets I'll
+You better guard your grill, before you gets scarred for real
+Big L is a large boss
+Known for puttin more holes in a nigga body than a golf course
+I'm crazy quick to knock a duck off
+I'll pull out then buck off
+And tear a nigga grill right the f*ck off
+You'll get smoked - like a Phillie fast
+Cause ya shit is really trash
+F*ck around, I swing on ya silly ass
+It's Big L the crime converter
+Sayin peace to all the niggas in jail doin time for murder
+I wreck the mic, plus the whole stage, rockin cornrow braids
+I'm killin motherf*ckers like old age
+Known to have a hottie open
+I keep the shotty smokin
+Front and get half the bones in ya body broken
+I never false teach, so listen as the boss preach
+I only rock leathers by Martin Cannon and North Beach
+I'm makin rap hits, I stab flicks and mack chicks
+Just the slim ones, you won't see L with no fat bitch
+Yo I'm the nigga that they call AWOL
+Punks - I slay all, on my spare time I play ball
+In the playgrounds I spray clowns with trey pounds
+Makin G's from transportin keys on Greyhounds
+My shit is kickin like a sensei
+I'm smoother than Ben Gay
+Comprende?
+I'm outtie like M.JEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Hit It[Hook]
+Can I hit it? (Yes you can!)
+Can I hit it? (Yes you can!)
+Can I hit it? (Yes you can!)
+
+[Verse 1]
+What's up boo, how you do?
+I've been watching you and you don't have a clue and this ain't nothin new
+Come to the crib, I got a beautiful view
+And a heart-shaped water bed made for two
+Uhuh, I do my thing when it's humping time
+So all you cuties that wanna bump and grind, jump in line
+Let me zoom in the boom like Wreckx
+When I'm through your nets
+Cos I'm a fiend when it comes to sex
+Am I the man? (True that)
+Of course you knew that
+I'd give you the world, but trick my ends, I don't do that
+I'm ready to get my flirt on
+One honey with the skirt on
+She got knees that I would love to put some dirt on
+Come here shorty, let's drink a forty and get naughty
+Go get your crew, I'll go get mine and let's make it an orgy
+And if you wanna be my girl just forget it
+I'm not with it (why?)
+It's just room to hit it
+[Hook x2]
+
+[Verse 2]
+So all my ladies are you with me, where you at?
+Let me hit it from the back and tell you if it's good or wack
+When I'm all alone I call honey's on the phone
+And Tell 'em come see me, but if we ain't gonna bone then keep your ass home
+I used to mate with this honey Kate
+The sex was great
+Her shape would make a sweet playa turn straight
+When you mention my name it rings a bell
+Ask any female, nobody does it like L
+That's why the ladies wanna meet me, discreetly
+Cos I'm freaky and love to go deep sea
+Fishing, I be caressing em', strickly sexing em'
+You know my style, I'm Down with O.P.P. like Treach and em'
+I get the woman loose quicker than gin and juice
+Sometimes I wanna jiggy to sporting gators and linen suits
+And if you wanna be my girl just forget it
+I'm not with it? (Why?)
+It's just room to hit it
+
+[Hook x2]
+
+[Verse 3]
+Around your girl you shouldn't trust me
+Cos soon as you turn your back I'mma slide her off then bust three
+And I only lay pipe to dimes
+A lot of brothers I know are taking care of kids that might be mines
+I love to go low, I'm freaky like that
+I even hit my mans girl cos I'm sneaky like that (huh!)
+It ain't my fault your girl me ho-hoppin'
+And matter fact the last time you gave her loot to go shopping
+She picked me up some dope shirts
+It's because of me why she's walking crooked and her throat hurts
+I hait to wait cos I'm not on a patient tip
+Just hit me off, we don't need a relationship
+I practice safe-sex so I keep the latex
+Looking through the Rolodex to see who I'mma slay next
+And if you wanna be my girl just forget it
+I'm not with it? (Why?)
+It's just room to hit it
+[Hook x2]EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Stretch & Bobbito ’94[Intro: Big L]
+Yeah yeah yeah we gonna drop some shit like this
+Check it out, check it out, check it out, check it out (Big L)
+
+[Big L]
+Yo check it yo here's another smooth song, so get your groove on
+Violate or try to fake jack and you’ll get moved on
+Peace to all my niggas with the thousand dollar jewels on
+Pushing rides with four lift minks with gator shoes on
+I am known for rockin tours, picture me moppin floors
+Only fuck with keys and not the kind that be locking doors
+The type of nigga that be gaming your freaks
+While you out working hard, I'm putting stains in your sheets
+Exportin Coogi and Gucci, that's my duty
+Fuck a big booty groupie
+Need a fruity, cutie hoochie with lots of loot G
+This goes out to my niggas uptown, downtown, midtown across town and out of town
+I be the mic horker, rap enforcer
+Native New Yorker, slick talker, beat walker stalker
+You remember me, when I put it on with the Kid Capri
+Mr. MVP is back to take over the industry (Big L)
+My cash flow don't get low it just increase
+Who ever try to take mines a rest in peace
+I keep a stoned look, peace to every known crook
+Not those who go to jail and can't hold their own and come home shook
+On 139 and Lennox niggas are bananas, we got bad manners
+Cops can't stand us, that's why they try to jam us
+But I hate jakes they mad cause I make papes
+I am large like the great lakes, with drug spots in eight states
+I'm chillin makin sure this money is right
+Sippin Sunny Delight, hittin every honey in site
+And I wanna smoke Pataki and Rudolph Gulie like a wooley
+I keep a tooley for any moody who act fooley
+What I recite be taking hours to write
+So if you bite, just tell your man what type of flowers you like
+So bloodshed, aiiyo my, mellow my nigga
+Get on the mic and pull the MC trigger
+[Bloodshed]
+Yo bloods out for president when I roll threw your residence
+Your hesitant is it because you know I represent
+Harlem, USA nigga ain't nothin to say or do
+Fuck around I slay your crew, your baby boo and maybe you
+[*fades]EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+8 iz Enuff (Demo Version)[Big L]
+Ayyo folks who quote what I wrote get choked
+You better surrender before you get smoked
+You niggas be thinkin’ this kid is a joke?
+I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes’ blast
+So jus’ dash or trespass and get your chest smashed
+Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews
+Don’t get me pissed, I got a short fuse
+I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk
+So stay alert, no smoke ‘cause these knuckles hurt
+I’m from the alley not the valley
+I’m hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry
+And fuck Sally, I’d rather marry Halle
+I revive crowds with live styles
+Don’t hang with jive pals
+Adiós, ghost, I’m five thous’
+
+[Terra]
+Flave it’s always easy for new bait
+Taken here to groove quake
+Make ya more addictin’ than tube steak
+‘Cause when I work a line, nobody’s jerkin’ mine
+So bring the noise an’ I’ll poison like turpentine
+This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter
+Ass rubber, your rhymes left trash gutter
+I’ll leave chumps done, don’t come with some junk son
+‘Cause I’m makin’ flave niggas cool for consumption
+I’m more rare, the MC in this warfare
+Put you in a morgue where it’s too late for that lord prayer
+Power struck, Terra drops the follow up
+Sour luck, niggas got popped an’ swallowed nut
+[Herb McGruff]
+On the mic, I rip the scene right
+Terra just caught wreck, so I guess I got the green light
+Niggas know about Herb McGruff
+I’m on some murder stuff
+And when I talk every verb is rough
+MCs are live but I’m mad liver
+Ayyo my rhymes are more funky than a African cab driver
+Step to this an’ get sliced with ease
+Ate up like rice an’ peas
+(Herb can you fight?) Yo I’m nice with these
+Put up your dukes, then me an’ you cook raw
+‘Cause I stand tall an’ kick ass like a football
+Microphones I gotta tear
+Peace to Big L, straight from hell
+I’m the fuck up outta here
+
+[Buddah Bless]
+Ayyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic
+Herb passed it, now I’ma melt the mic like it's plastic
+I rag crews ‘cause I'm bad news
+In a mad move I'm servin’ brothers quicker than fast food
+Step to this an’ get your body blown
+‘Cause I'm a no maricón for poems and slidin’ hotties home
+Here's some advice, I'm mad nice
+Ayyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice
+And cold take a fag's life
+My swellin’ melon got niggas gellin’
+Ayyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon
+[Big Twan]
+Yo I’m bustin’ chumps like a Glock ten, when I drops in
+The top ten is rocked when it's locked in
+I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow
+Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill ya show
+I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid
+No frail kids get nailed and read Braille when they fail
+Yeah and I’m nasty, too nasty to trash me
+Bash me, ayyo, that's dead, so don't ask me
+You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off
+I never come soft, I gotta pump that’s sawed off
+And when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out
+For dissin’, you’ll come up missin’, like a cub scout
+
+[Killa Kam]
+Rappers be funny like flesh ‘cause they sections say they slaughter son
+Talk about nines an’ tecs an’ never shot a water gun
+But Killa Kam I get erratic when it comes to static
+There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic
+Increase the peace that cease ‘cause once I release
+My crew from the east, we leavin’ at least
+Twenty police deceased, it’s the beast on attack
+So make tracks, I break backs
+I jack with def gats an’ black macs
+On Lenox Ave. ain’t no light looks, you fight crooks
+Left an’ right hooks, if you front, get your life took
+[Trooper J]
+I'm havin’ nail sharp pains in my brain like a hell raiser
+I'm blazin’ trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer
+Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin’ but lead
+Boom bye-bye then find another batty boy dead
+In backyard alleys, but I call ‘em crackyard valleys
+And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali
+And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse
+I'm in a daze and I'm so confused
+From seein’ heads shake so many times the lead make
+And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight
+
+[Mike Boogie]
+I should never rhyme ‘cause every time I step into a contest
+Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat
+‘Cause they know when I start droppin poems
+That I be knockin’ domes, poppin’ bones and sendin’ niggas hoppin’ home
+Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this
+So if you're comin’ to see me, nigga, bring a cast an’ crutches
+And niggas, I don’t need a gun for you, none of you
+‘Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two
+And it's death in every paragraph
+And niggas learn when I burn they motherfuckin’ ass to ash
+No need to question am I nice, ‘cause it's a fact friend
+I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a mac ten
+And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed
+And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike
+Now I'm ‘bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin’ it tough
+Peace to Big L, ayyo, eight is enoughEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Stretch & Bobbito ’98[Big L]
+I got some new shit for y'all to play to, ya know?
+
+[Bobbito]
+Okay good Big L!
+
+[Stretch]
+Tell me if this was suffice, or if it's somethin mayo .. outta here
+
+[Bobbito]
+This is the frosted flakes right here
+
+[Stretch]
+This is the Lord Finesse beat
+
+[Bobbito]
+Yeah yeah
+
+[Big L]
+Aight, I guess... it will work, it will work
+
+[Stretch]
+You can get jiggy with that?
+
+[Big L]
+Yeah, yeah let me see, check it out
+[Bobbito]
+You can ball with this
+
+[Big L]
+One-two, one-two
+Kinda tired..
+Big L, 'bout ta.. get into some shit
+Aight check it out
+
+Yo, fuck all the glamours and glitz, I plan to get rich
+I'm from New York and never was a fan of the Knicks
+And I'm all about expandin my chips
+You mad cause I was in the van with your bitch
+With both hands on her tits
+Corleone hold the throne, that you know in your heart
+I got style, plus the way that I be flowin is sharp
+A while back I used to hustle, sellin blow in the park
+Countin G stacks and rockin ice that glow in the dark
+Forever - hottie huntin, trigger temper I'm quick to body somethin
+You lookin at me like I'm probably frontin
+I fuck around and throw, three in your chest and flee to my rest
+I'm, older and smarter this is me at my best
+I stopped hangin around y'all, cause niggas like you
+Be prayin on my downfall, hopin I flop
+Hopin I stop, you probably even hope I get locked
+Or be on the street corner with a pipe, smokin the rock
+I got more riches than you, fuck more bitches than you
+Only thing I haven't got is more, stitches than you
+Fuckin punk, you ain't a +Leader+ what? Nobody +Follow-ed+ you
+You was never shit, your mother shoulda swallowed you
+(Mmmm.. WHOO!) You on some tagalong flunkie yes man shit
+Do me a favor, please get off the next man dick
+And if you think I can't fuck with whoever, put your money up
+Put your jewels up, no fuck it put your honey up
+Put your raggedy house up nigga, or shut your mouth up
+Before I buck lead, and make a lot of blood shed
+Turn your tux red, I'm far from broke, got enough bread
+And mad hoes, ask Beavis I get nuttin Butt-head
+{*laughter*} My game is, vicious and cool
+Fuckin chicks is a rule
+If my girl think I'm loyal then that bitch is a fool
+How come, you can listen to my first album
+And tell where a lot of niggas got they whole style from?
+(YEAH!) So what you actin for?
+You ain't half as raw, you need to practice more
+Somebody tell this nigga sum'un, 'fore I crack his jaw
+You runnin with boys, I'm runnin with men
+I'mma be rippin the mics until I'm a hundred and ten
+Have y'all niggas like, "Damnit this nigga done done it again"
+I throw slugs at idi-ots, no love for city cops
+I sport a pretty watch, eight-hundred and fifty rocks
+I'm makin wonderful figures
+I don't fuck with none of you niggas
+I might pull out this gun on your niggas
+And rob every last one of you niggas
+[Bobbito] YEAHHH! (What?)
+[Big L] I'm TIRED
+[Bobbito] For somebody tired, that wasn't, that wasn't too bad!
+
+[Bobbito]
+You wrote... yeah... you where.. you where thinkin' bout somebody when you
+Wrote that right?
+
+[Big L]
+Nah, all my shit like that, cause lately niggas been battlin' on the block
+Lately
+
+[Bobbito]
+I could tell you wrote that ready for somebody
+
+[Big L]
+Yeah, yeah niggas been up on some... (sharpened up the swords)
+
+[Bobbito]
+You sharpened the pencils for that one
+
+[Big L]
+Aight let me kick some more shit
+
+Aight, let me kick some more shit, one more time
+[Bobbito: Yeah-yeah... Spit, some more]
+Aight, check it out, yeah, check it out [Bobbito: Big L]
+Yeah, check it out, yeah, check it out [Bobbito: Yeah]
+Uhh, check it out, aight, check it out [Bobbito: Woo-- Woooo!]
+Aight, we gone hit it like this, check it out
+
+Yo check it, yo my shit is hot like jerk chicken, I should rob you
+But with that cheap shit, you ain't worth stickin'
+I've got a left hook, that be leavin' guys knocked out
+Keep frontin', and I'm a choke you till your eyes pop out
+I was taught that if a nigga swing, swing right back
+Battle Corleone, why do a stupid thing like that?
+Yo, I'm not in the mood, son, so don't push me tonight
+Plus I fucked your little sister and that pussy was right
+That pussy was tight, grippin' my dick like a pair of pliers
+You fuckin' snitch, right now you prolly wearin' wires
+It's not a joke, so as soon as he laugh
+I'm a strip him naked and stick a long broom in his ass [Bobbito: Ouch]
+[Stretch: Oh, word]
+Leave him heart-broken, make him quit rap and start smokin'
+My album is done, so no it ain't no parts open
+I'm not a sweet stud, I'm a street thug
+That's quick to beat a nigga like a cheap rug, till he leak blood
+You sure soft, watched you fall off, might slide your whore off
+Then call all off, and tear your jaw off
+My life is far out, I got star clout
+Every week bring a different car out, go to clubs and buy the bar out
+You ain't a player, put that cigar out
+Take that suit off, before I shoot off, and tear your roof off
+Leave your clothes bloody-red like the nose of Rudolph
+I rocked many stages and never got booed off
+I might let this gat burst, put you in a big black hearse
+For that wack verse, should have tried these other cats first
+Cause none of y'all niggas can fuck with me
+And if your man wanna join, I got McGruff with me
+We puff much izzy
+I do shit that only tough men do
+And them cats you with fuck them too, I'll buck them too
+Be careful what you rush into, you lame-ass nigga
+No dough, always on the train-ass nigga
+Canal street, 10-karat-chain-ass nigga
+You got fucked upstate, you cupcake
+How many dicks can your butt take?
+I ran through every bitch in my path
+I was fuckin' chicks in the ass when I was six-and-a-half {*laughing*}
+Yo, I'm a take you out your misery [Stretch: Yeah right!]
+And after this, nigga, put you in the social study book cause you're
+History
+
+Yeah
+
+[*Laughing]
+[Bobbito: Yo, I'm gonna give you my math]
+Aight
+[Bobbito: I'm gonna give you my math] {*laughing*}
+Aight
+[Stretch: Aight]
+[Bobbito: Yo, I'm gonna give you my history]
+[Stretch: That's one I'm not gonna play for my mom]
+[Bobbito: Yeah]
+[Stretch: 'Anthony, I haven't heard the show in so long
+Give me tape...' Not this one.]
+
+[Big L]
+Eh yo I want y'all to check out ... ya know, two new singles comin' up
+(Bobbito:We can play somethin' right now, whats up?)
+"Size Em Up" ... "Ebonics"EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+’92 Stretch & Bobbito Freestyle[Big L]
+Word, check it out check it out check it out
+Bust it
+MC's get taught a lesson when the mic is in my po-ssession
+Rap's my pro-fession, L is nice, no question
+It's a fact I stay geared, it shouldn't be weird
+That I'm feared 'cause my raps are rougher than a nappy beard
+I cook rappers like a chef
+I'm Def like Jef, right to left
+My raps are badder than morning breath
+For niggas' deaths, I'm the number one suspect
+'Cause I catch much wreck, 'specially when I'm upset
+Suckers, I'm a stiggedystar
+Breakin' 'em up and then takin' they heart
+You better believe that Big L is the man
+That be rippin' the microphones apart
+I hold the forty right because I'm the naughty type
+When I strike the mic, niggas be like "Shorty hype"
+I'm smoother than Velvet, my lyrics is well writ'
+You saying L's this and L's that, get off L's dick
+Rhymes I create'll knock out ya gold tooth
+Battling me is like fightin' a gorilla in a phone booth
+I wreck mics and drop the cool speeches
+Nowadays, rappers think they motherfuckin' schoolteachers
+One-two, one-two, rappers I run through
+Fuck Karate, I practice Gun-Fu
+The Big L is an assassinator
+I grab the Mag and leave a fag leakin' like activator
+I'm the nigga that you never even thought of beatin'
+Black white or Puerto Rican
+I'm gonna slaughter each and...
+Every crab MC that runs up
+When a battle comes up, give me two thumbs up
+PeaceEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Power MovesIts time to make power moves and get the chedda
+And buy the real nice things that makes life betta
+No foolish acts, moves must be clever
+Im down for whatever, I gotta blow son, is now or never
+I walk through the ruggedest blocks with jewels flooded wit rocks
+Hustlin on hot corners that be smuggled wit cops
+I was sworn for harlem, true roach don
+Word bond, we leave mics torn
+Yall brothers slept too long, now its on
+L Corleone will neva fly
+Records are forever hot
+Front on me you better not
+I keep the barreta cocked
+This goes out to my people's up town
+Downtown, mid town, across town, and outta town
+You see me flossin often, at all the club sites
+At the bars buyin crystalls like they bud lights
+My style is hard like strong lumber
+Dime pieces get the digits chicken heads get the wrong number
+Yo I announce spacks
+When I get busy over bounce tracks
+Droppin lethal raps so wack so I can count stacks
+I keep a heavy knot, got a spot on every block
+Hunnies thats very hot
+And sent to the mary yacht
+95 was a beautiful year for L
+Now I'm back and all the ladies still cheer for L
+Whatever I write is gonna be tight
+Cuz if makin hits is wrong I dont wanna be right
+Never the less, the east is were my crew rest
+We bust caps that go through vests
+We only do what we do best
+And thats triple than you riddle men
+Since you wanna play rough, then say hello to my little friend
+I like drop tops when its hot
+I like lands when its snowy
+Bank account is fat like Joey
+Im not very religious you wouldn't call me holy
+Sometimes my hairs corn row, sometimes its froly
+Spark up the you know what
+Pop the moey
+L stay flossin, presidential doughly
+Yall brothers know me, I step in parties with minks and fly links
+Shorties hittin me with eyewinks as I buy drinks
+And every girl I got looks like a model
+If you ever see me with a chicken then she must of a hit the lotto
+Uptown is my home, and where I roam
+I stand alone, Big L Cornleone got a song
+Sellin weight in and outta state to generate cake
+The one jakes hate
+Got homicide runnin out of yellow tape
+I pack toast with infra red scopes, I turn crews to dead folks
+If yall fellas is playas, Im the head coachEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Universal Freestyle[Intro: Big L]
+Check it out now
+Big L, Corleone
+Flamboyant Entertainment
+One love to my big brother Big Lee, holdin it down from the inside right now
+When you come home it's on
+Herb McGruff, Universal, Harlem World shit
+139 & Lennox shit, "Danger Zone" shit
+Check it out
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+I be twistin' bitches alot, have 'em sit on this cock
+I wasn't prepared for this I wrote my shit on the spot
+I be droppin' like early August late July
+With tracks that will make you cry, hate you die
+Stop frontin' you got no dough
+Mighta had but not no mo', you mad cause I knocked yo' ho
+While cops watch me, I got cats that watch po po
+My block loco, don't need a crew I rock solo
+On wit my nigga Gruff, these faggot niggas ain't as rich as us
+I need chicks to lust, smoke my weed mixed with dust
+Go ahead and let your crew soup you up
+And the ambulance gon' have to come and scoop you up
+Fuck what my last sold, my new shit is goin' past gold
+And if you don't agree you's a asshole
+Mark my word, you gon' make pump the berg
+And spark this herb, 'till homicide chalk the curb, you heard
+I never hesitate to buck my gun
+Harlem World, y'all know where the fuck I'm fromEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+No Endz, No Skinz (Original Mix)[Verse 1]
+Let me get to the point real quick
+When you're wearin' slick shit, chicks be on a nigga dick
+When you sportin' fresh jewels and drivin' in a groovy car
+All the bitches cold-sweat you like a movie star
+To get in your pockets, that's what them hoes wanna do
+But if you not rich, then them bitches gonna front on you
+No matter how strong your rap
+You only get ass when you got cash and you're on a map
+Cause if you're broke, you'll get a whack slut
+If you got dough, you'll get a ho with a fat butt
+With fresh gear, long hair and a cute face
+If you live alone, the bitch is gonna pack her suitcase
+And move in, then you start losin' all ya bucks
+Soon you broke, fucked up and outta luck
+Then she takes off and breaks North
+Your ho's gone, so long dear
+I'm outta here, the good relationship's been torn
+'Cause when you're on top, everything's okay
+But when you broke you gets no play
+
+[Chorus]
+If you don't got ends, you won't be gettin' no skins
+If you don't got money, you won't scoop a honey
+If you don't got cash, you won't be gettin' no ass
+And if you're not clockin' loot, you won't be knockin' no boots
+[Verse 2]
+Hoes in the nineties ain't nothin' but crooks
+It's all about what's in ya pockets and fuck how you look
+That's why you can't talk to just any whore
+Leavin' niggas for the next man, 'cause he got a penny more
+They want a drug dealer, not a scholar
+Some bitches barely speak, but always askin' for a dollar
+And if you're pushin' a fresh Benz
+They'll be your best friends
+Yeah, as long as you collect ends
+You think she's all yours but as soon as your dough go
+Your ho go, now you solo
+But when you was makin' papes, sellin' jumbos
+You bought dumb clothes for all of them bum hoes
+And you was takin' 'em to the movies every weekend
+Now that you're dead broke, them bitches stopped speakin'
+Cause nowadays, ho want you to trick
+The only thing they can get from Big L is a big dick
+'Cause when you're on top, everything's okay
+But when you broke, you gets no play
+
+[Chorus]
+If you don't got ends, you won't be gettin' no skins
+If you don't got money, you won't scoop a honey
+If you don't got cash, you won't be gettin' no ass
+And if you're not clockin' loot, you won't be knockin' no boots
+If you don't got ends, you won't be gettin' no skins
+If you don't got money, you won't scoop a honey
+If you don't got cash, you won't be gettin' no ass
+And if you're not clockin' loot, you won't be knockin' no boots
+[Verse 3]
+I tell it like it is cause I'm a bold nigga
+And I hate a money hungry ho, a.k.a. gold digger
+Bitches used to treat me like a shit stain
+Then I started to get fame and all of that shit changed
+It ain't even funny
+Some bitches don't know me, sayin', "Can I get some money?"
+Bitch, what's up with you?
+Askin' me for a buck or two, like I fuck with you
+I'm lookin' nothin' like your poppa
+I wouldn't give a bitch ten cent to put cheese on a Whopper
+They wanna know why I'm so fly
+A girl asked me for a ring and I put one around her whole eye
+You sweat me now cause I got dumb figures
+But I remember when you told me that you didn't fuck with bum niggas
+Now I'm fatter than a goose down Woolrich
+Paid in Full, bitch, so save that bullshit
+Y'all used to diss, but now y'all wanna kiss?
+Yo D, yo, I'ma break it down like this:
+
+[Chorus]
+If you don't got ends, you won't be gettin' no skins
+If you don't got money, you won't scoop a honey
+If you don't got cash, you won't be gettin' no ass
+And if you're not clockin' loot, you won't be knockin' no boots
+If you don't got ends, you won't be gettin' no skins
+[Outro]
+It's like that, y'all, and that's a fact, y'all
+I hit bitches from the back and don't give 'em jack, y'all
+It's Big L, y'all, I'm livin' swell, y'all
+I do my thing, that's why my name ring bells, y'allEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Tony’s Touch[Big L]
+Yo, I be that smooth cat you never seen rollin' with clowns
+One of the few from Uptown that's holdin' it down
+Bitches be on me like I'm welfare
+Even rich whores that live in Bel Air
+Is this Big L? Yeah, hell yeah
+Word up, I use a chrome gat to push domes back
+Watch how you talk when you call me, Feds got my phone tapped
+This rap game, I put my life in it
+Chain got mega ice in it
+Push an Infinite, chrome rims, light-tinted
+And you can see pal, it's all about me now
+Twenty G's a show, bitch, three thou' just to freestyle
+I made this cheese, it didn't grow on trees
+Can you hold somethin'? Sure, you can hold on these
+Yo I'm fat like a old Cray-on, smooth as Rayon
+L is who the ladies stay on, baby play on
+I stay jewel-ed up, pockets swelled up
+From banks I held up
+Plenty bitch-ass niggas Big L stuck
+I never catch cold feet when I hold heat
+We roll deep, in the triple black, dark-tinted o' jeep
+I catch a fag three o'clock in the morn'
+On the block all alone
+And put a Glock to his dome
+Tell him: Give it up quick, you nitwit, don't try to get slick
+Or I'mma let this four-fifth spit, and leave your shit split
+Prick, it ain't nothin' decent about me
+A true thug for real, you can ask the precinct about me
+A rap junky, don't try to play me like some flunky
+Jewels be chunky, pockets lumpy, attitude grumpy
+And mad niggas be frontin' a lot
+Poppin' mad shit, tryin' to be somethin' they not
+Your faggot ass better stick to dancin'
+Don't even look at me, I might break your jaw just for glancin'
+I'm sick like Manson
+In '97 Harlem kids is blowin'
+And we don't trick, we'll let a bitch starve 'til her ribs is showin'EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+I Won’t[Big L]
+Aiiyyo, some people was born in heaven
+With a silver spoon in they mouth
+And had everything handed to them on a silver platter
+And never had to work hard for nothing
+(Pause)
+Then there are some people that was born in the opposite world
+Of those that was born in heaven, which is called hell
+And had to work hard for everything they got
+And never had nothing handed to them... and never will
+
+[1st Verse]
+I'm only at the age of 10
+And life already seems to me like it's heading for a dead end
+Cause my moms be smoking mad crack
+My dad went out for a fast snack, and never brought his ass back
+Nobody knows how I feel, it's quite ill
+Cause I had to steal to fill my stomach with a nice meal
+Too ashamed to walk the streets
+Wearing the same cheap sneaks and dirty outfits for weeks
+Even my holidays got damaged
+Cause on Christmas I asked Santa for a father and a hot sandwich
+I just can't take it (uh-huh, uh-huh)
+And every day I ask myself, 'how will I make it?'
+
+[Chorus]
+It seems like my life's been cursed
+Ever since I was a child, and how will I make it?
+I won't, that's how
+I walk around with a frown; I got no reason to smile
+And how will I make it?
+I won't, that's how
+Aiiyyo times was rough, I had to grow up foul
+And how will I make it?
+I won't, that's how
+I always knew that I'd end up doing time on the Isle
+And how will I make it?
+I won't, that's how
+[2nd Verse]
+Five years passed by, now I'm at the age of 15
+No more fun and games, it's time to get cream (word up)
+Cause I'm about to burst, it's like my life was cursed
+I went to church, prayed everyday
+And it still got worse
+Soon I ran into a couple of guns
+Started stalking the streets, slate robbing suckers for funds (give it up, give it up)
+Now everyday I creep with the heat
+Ain't nothing sweet, I rob for meat
+If I don't steal I don't eat
+Then I lost control and started going too far
+Robbed this brother named Umar
+Then got snatched by the blue car
+Where I grew up it was a living hell
+Then I started to realize – I'm better off in a prison cell
+Now I can sleep, now I can eat
+Can't hit skins, but I wasn't hitting skins when I was in the street
+Aiiyyo I just can't take it
+And every day I ask myself, 'how will I make it?'
+
+[Chorus]
+
+[3rd Verse]
+Doing time was full of stress G, all the
+Fighting's and stabbings and men finding men sexy
+One tried to test me didn't find it humorous
+Beat him with a pillowcase filled with cans of tuna fish
+My time came to a cease; I'm back on the streets again
+I hope I don't get snatched by the beast again
+But it's getting crazy hectic
+Cause I'm broke, get up naked
+And can't get a job cause of my jail record
+Before you know it, I was robbing them same ducks
+I even started robbing homeless folks for they change cups
+My whole life was deserted
+Either I'ma go back to jail or get murdered, but do I deserve it?
+All I tried to do was live the one life that I got
+But it seems like I can't get a fair shot (word up)
+I just can't take it (uh-huh)
+And every day I ask myself, 'how will I make it?'
+[Chorus]
+
+[Big L]
+Word up man, it's real rough out here man
+In the ghetto, all you can wish for is a better tomorrow
+It ain't getting no better, it's only getting worse, word up...EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Clinic (I Shoulda Used a Rubber)[Production by Buckwild]
+[Kool Moe Dee]
+What have I done stuck my dick in?
+
+[Hook]
+I shoulda used a rubber, before I went up in it
+And then ya monkey ass won't be sittin in a clinic
+
+[Big L]
+Ayyo, one hot summer night after ballin hard
+I went to the phone booth with my callin card
+And called up Joelle, yeah you know L
+I told her come to the crib, yo mother fuck a hotel
+She said she was gonna come at ten
+The bitch came, but one problem, she brought a friend
+You know I'm not a rude brother yo
+But I let Joelle in and slammed the door on that other ho
+So we was sittin in the livin room kickin it
+And all I thought about was stickin it
+She was mean, cause you know I wouldn't fuck wit a sleazy ho
+Yo we was coolin, watching some TV show
+I was crackin sex jokes, tryin to get the puss'
+And this bitch was kickin scripts beatin round the bush
+Talkin bout rhyme for me L man fuck rhyming
+Cause my dick, is hard enough to cut diamonds
+I said, "I hope you ain't tryin to dick tease
+Ayyo, cause Big L's quick to tell a bitch leave."
+Ayyo my game started fuckin wit her head soon
+Next thing ya know we went straight to the bedroom
+I knocked the boots from New York to Santa Fe
+And that bitch burnt me like a gamma ray
+I caught a cab, on 139 & Lenox
+Ayyo, I took it to the neighborhood clinic
+Because she gave me gonorrhea
+Yo, I'mma kill that bitch, the next time that I see her
+[Hook x2]
+I shoulda used a rubber, before I went up in it
+And then ya monkey ass won't be sittin in a clinic
+
+One afternoon I was cruising on the Westside
+Bumpin my system, lounging back in a fresh ride
+Hoes be hotter than a sauna
+So I put the system on max, and bumped my shit on the corner
+I saw this girl walkin by who was hype as hell
+She was mad point-blank, she was right for L
+But she tried to play me like a statue black
+I said, "Sweeheart whats your name?"
+"I gotta man," "I ain't ask you that."
+She said in order to be with me you gotta be rich
+You won't be able to switch, I said, "Fuck you bitch."
+Another girl walked by, I called her
+"Excuse me what's your name" "Lorraine, what's yours"
+Ayyo, game I kicked well
+I said honey my names Lamont, but I'm known as Big L
+I was looking smooth with the jewelry
+She said, "L's for Lamont, but what's the Big for?" "You'll see."
+Ayyo, my pockets were extra thick
+"So what you doin later, oh nothing, then lets catch a flick."
+Yeah, I bagged that ho well
+Took her to the triple M, movies, meal, and motel
+And when it comes to this I'mma a professor
+I didn't molest her I caressed her, undressed her then sexed her
+But I must be getting older
+Cause I didn't put a helmet on my mother fucking soldier
+I started stickin up quick
+And the next time I took a piss
+A motherfuckin flame shot out my dick
+[Hook 4x]
+I shoulda worn a rubber, before I went up in it
+And then ya monkey ass won't be sittin in a clinic
+
+[?]
+Ayyo L these bitches be burnin’ the dog shit outta niggas, know what I’m sayin’?
+
+[Big L ]
+Who you tellin’ man? These bitches nowadays’d have a nigga dick drippin’ lava
+
+[Laughter.]
+
+[Big L]
+You know what I’m sayin’? Ayyo, these bitches’ll have a nigga, give a nigga’s balls a heat rash or somethin’ man
+
+[?]
+Okay…
+
+[Big L]
+Man fuckin’ with these hoes without a rubber nowadays is like bungee jumpin’ with a rope around your neck. That’s like playin’, that’s like playin’ Russian roulette with a shotgun. Ayyo word, ayyo, ayyo man, fuck a rubber man, I’m a start puttin’ balloons on my dick, dog, ayyo I’m a start puttin’ suntan lotion on my dick or somethin’. Ayyo these bitches is triflin’ dog
+
+[?]
+Oh man these hoes is triflin'
+
+[Big L]
+Ay I’m gettin’ the fuck up out of here man
+[?]
+Aight, let’s bounce
+
+[Big L]
+AightEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Tony Touch “139”[Lord Finesse]
+Big L
+
+[*scratched during the intro* Notorious B.I.G.]
+1-3-9
+
+[Intro: Big L]
+Where I'm from
+Yeah, Tony Touch in the house, yeah
+Big L Harlem on the rise, 1-3-9
+You ain't know!?
+One love to my nigga McGruff, Mase Murda, Killa Kam
+Rest in peace to my man Bloodshed
+Live on baby, the spirit live on
+Yeah BBO in the house
+Yeah my men stand I'ma rock this shit
+Check it out!
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Yo I be dat smooth cat you never seen rollin' wit clowns
+One of the few from uptown thats holdin' it down
+Bitches be on me like I'm welfare, een rich ones
+That live in Bel Air is this Big L yeah, hell yeah!
+Word up I use a chrome gat, to push domes back
+Watch how you talk when you call me feds got my phone tapped
+This rap game, Iput my life in it, chain got mega ice in it
+Push an Infinit, chrome rims light tinted
+And you can see pal, it's all about me now
+20 g's a show, bitch 3 thou just to freestyle
+I made this cheese, it didn't grow on trees
+Can you hold somethin?, sure you can hold on these
+Yo I'm phat like a old crayon smooth as rayon
+L is who the ladies stay on, baby play on
+I stay jeweled up pockets swelled up
+From banks I held up, plenty bitch-ass niggas Big L stuck
+I never catch cold feet, when I hold heat, we roll deep
+In a triple-black dark-tinted OG
+I catch a fag 3 o lock in the mon'
+On the block all alone, then put a Glock to his dome
+Tell him give it up quick, you nitwit, dont try to get slick
+Or I'mma let this four-fifth spit, and leave your shit split
+Prick, it ain't nothin decent about me
+A true thug for real, you can ask the precinct about me
+A rap junkie, dont try to play like some flunky
+Jewels be chunky, pockets lumpy, attitude grumpy
+And mad niggas be frontin a lot
+Popping mad shit, trying to be something they not
+Your faggot ass better stay to dancing, don't even look at me
+I might break your jaw just for glancing, I'm sick like Manson
+In '97 Harlem kids is blowing
+And we don't trip, we'll let a bitch starve til her ribs are showingEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Harlem Nights(Bloodshed)
+Yo, I'm mad vexed, give me your address
+And I'll deliver, stand and watch you shiver
+As the bullets travel through your liver
+This nigga bloodshed is mad rough
+Battling me is like jumping inside a river while you're handcuffed
+My fist is more nastier than Travel Fox
+My silhouette inside intensive care, because I like to shadowbox
+My gat makes more noise then Roman candles
+I stay in murder scandles, and dust the fingerprints of burner handles
+And I left Jehovah slain, I don't cry over pain
+Cause I puff fat dimes of novacaine
+Murder astrologist, mad cases of manslaughter
+I rape this man's daughter, then put the shit on cam corder
+Put it for sale on 2-5th and 8th
+Her pops tried to flex and bass, then the tech correct
+And spit in his face, her brother dice tried to get shiest
+So I took his life, with a knife, then asked him twice about his fucking son and wife
+After that, I load the gat and let the lead start flying
+That shit is death defying, now you need dental records to identify him
+I had beef with this Priest his name was father Clyde
+This how he died, I had seven put on his side, and fulled him with formaldehyde
+I get more high then frequencies, no one gets ass deep as me
+Your worst nightmare, don't sleep on me
+
+(Chorus)
+"It ain't where you're form it's where you at" - Rakim
+So when you walk through Harlem faggot watch your back
+"It ain't where you're from it's where you at" - Rakim
+So when you walk through Harlem faggot watch your back
+(Cam'Ron)
+Yo, I'm a cat with 9 live, but everyday I risk them
+Pop shots the Glock at the cop and missed him now he's all up in the system
+Upstate, buying for crime, slaving the time
+My mother down here praying for mine
+Cause I'm like Snider, living one day at a time
+Harlem's a rough route, get snuffed out in a tough bout
+The streets is full of smoking guns from people getting puffed out
+I scrap them like a sculpture, living out my fucking culture
+My crews a bunch of vultures with the .38s and holsters
+And I quick to hurt a fool, cause money got that murder pull
+And don't leave my house without the guns, mask and surgicals
+Don't tell me how I act and sound, I pack a mack and pound
+And strap them down to clap them clowns, I never seen a cap and gown
+And I'm a basketcase, I'll bash your face, and blast your waist
+In a casket trace, cause me and this bastard Mase, drop at a tragic place
+Cause uptown it ain't nothing sweet, it's just guns a grief
+Tons of beef, and little niggas run the streets
+And pop the boots for lots of loot
+Even sell a cop a deuce, on top of roofs
+But be careful cause the Glocks is loose
+And I'ma choke you like a capsule, niggas wanna scrap? Boat
+And I'ma end the shit on that note
+
+(Chorus)
+"It ain't where you're form it's where you at" - Rakim
+So when you walk through Harlem faggot watch your back
+"It ain't where you're from it's where you at" - Rakim
+So when you walk through Harlem faggot watch your back
+(Big L)
+My click is quick to pull a bullet through a stranger's dome
+You should've known not to roam through the danerzone
+In Harlem is where the thugs rest
+In a slugfest, we sending faggots "All the Way to Heaven" like Doug Fresh
+Big L grow up in the slums of greed
+I'm known for drawing guns with speed, and selling tons of weed
+Cause I got sons to feed
+And it's a must that I commence to slain
+Any faggot MC that goes against the grain
+And I'ma smoke Pataki's ass and Rudolph Giuli' like a Woolie
+Keep a toolie for any moolie who act fooley
+So if a nigga disrespect L, to hell is where I'm send them
+After I skin him, And spit some venenom in him
+Run with introduers, looters and sharpshooters
+Who spark buddah and fuck thick bitches with large hooters
+Beat niggas with lead pipes, leave trails of dead mics
+Cause where I'm from niggas jewels get run like red lights
+Old folks get mugged and raided, crimes are drug related
+And we live by the street rules the thugs created
+Clowns get smoked about a thousand volts
+So front and get a tech shoved down your throatEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Cluemanati (’97 DJ Clue Freestyle)[Herb McGruff]
+I drop hot rhymes
+Take it hot '97slot time
+I shine like a icon
+Hund' Thirty-Ninth, don
+V12 600 gas put my Nike on
+Put a mic on
+Put it piped on
+Strong armed like 'Nam
+Desert storm never fight calm
+Four-fifths shook my right arm
+Pearl white palm
+Murder your life on
+Make more noise than a night storm
+Heavy artillery, hand grenades, and pipe bombs
+Like Tron
+Man there's no telling who I might harm
+Time Wall Street business men in their white blond
+It's like on
+Bullet holes buck fifty life longs
+Fight strong, Don Juan, ill trife con
+Write hype shit, my gang can make a dyke like dick
+And my crew bigger than your crew twice as thick
+Niggas be lookin' for some ice to stick
+Nice and slick
+And pipe the dick
+And all the bad righteous chicks
+My niggas locked up, we light them flicks
+Send you commissary all types of kicks
+My man L got 25 to life taught me life's a bitch
+Said hold your head 'Gruff son and write them hits
+[Big L]
+Ya'll niggas like to stress them hoes
+Impress them hoes
+And spend money to dress them hoes
+I sex them hoes and send them home
+Corleone is known to be stoned
+When I bone I'm rubbered-up 'case the bitch full blown
+The other night around 8PM
+Pockets crazy slim
+Jumped out the grey B.M
+Went to the ATM
+Took a thou' out
+Later on had to wil' out
+In the club knocked some nigga and his pal out
+Afterwards went to the restroom and pissed Cristal out
+Now I'm thinkin' what bitch number I can dial out
+Cause it's L, the Harlem pimp baby, for real
+I got more dimes than that Sprint lady, that's ill
+Playa hatas be givin me harsh looks
+But I'm trying to sell records like Garth Brooks
+So fuck 'em all
+When it's cold I throw the skully on
+Illegal chips keep my celly on
+Mega ice is what I'm heavy on
+If it ain't Cristal bitch I guess it's Pérignon
+If the pussy hole to tight I throw some jelly on
+Try to tax, watch the 9 mil' burst
+I've been off the scene over two years and niggas is still thirst
+To hear Big L drop an ill verse
+All you unsigned niggas that wanna battle, get a deal first
+I sport the bullet-proof fitted hat
+That attitude you better get rid of that
+Where ever you floss is where you gonna get it at
+I stay strapped, I go to sleep with my steel
+Makin' figgas while you broke niggas keepin' it real
+L is rap most livest cat
+I'm getting stacks while you askin' niggas - "Do you want fries with that?"
+I rob fags in the stair case
+No mask, bare face
+The one police wouldn't dare chase
+Keep my gear laced
+Do I walk around without papes?
+No way pal
+Word up, my money longer than the O.J. Trial
+[Herb McGruff]
+Yo, I rhyme with my heart and my soul
+Shine like a carton of gold
+Got M.C.'s startin' to fold
+Leave 'em cold
+Better play their part and their role
+Leave 'em shook like a hustler with knocks on the stroll
+What you know about slangin' in the park in the cold
+Puffin buddha with your buddies
+Gooses and the skullies
+Rockin' Tim' boots and all the honeys
+And when it's sunny
+We sport linen spending money
+Of course we some men who hungry
+Society forced us to attend to ugly
+And scorin' like Bugsy
+I rather die than keep the feds cumfy
+I read Nicky Barnes yeah plus I read Bumpy
+Harlem World's where I'm from see
+Picture 'Gruff comin' clumsy
+I'm from the home of the money maker bum is junkie
+DJ Clue pull up something funky
+I'm kinda of tired off this weed and this Brass Monkey
+
+[Big L]
+Uh
+Ears studded out
+Playa hatas cut it out
+Chain flooded out
+Sexin' hoes tell I'm nutted out
+You on the mixtape, talkin 'bout you flip weight
+You fishcake holdin' your dick and still couldn't piss straight
+I got heavy dough
+And that's something that you already know
+Clue heard me once and said "I bet he blow"
+I rock the Presi' Rol'
+You want beef let me know
+I be in Mexico chillin' with a sexy ho
+How cool can one MC be?
+Ya'll still envy me cause I'm M.V.P
+Cruise through Harlem in a bullet-proof MPV
+Man, you fuck around and get plugged like MTV
+I'm a pretty pimp with mad gear
+I put my hoes on the moon if there was cash there
+You feel me?
+I buy hot jewels and ice it down
+While you go to the jewelry store with short dough trying to bring the prices downEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Kay Slay Freestyle[Intro: Big L]
+Yeh check this shit out
+1,2 1,2 check me the fuck out
+Big L, Corleone
+Yeh chillin' wit my nigga Kay Slay from around the way, uhuh
+Flamboyant Entertainment nigga
+Comin' live it's the danger zone Harlem, USA nigga
+Bout to rip this shit
+Check us out, check it out, yeh, check it out, yeh yeh
+Flamboyant Entertainment
+Yeh yeh Flamboyant Entertainment
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Yo while we hold gats, you hold knifes
+When you sold 8's, we sold pies
+When you rode bikes, we drove 5's
+It's no comparison son, it's just embarrisin'
+Im runnin' with some of the baddest niggas in the whole New York
+We hold the fort, y'all bitch niggas is holdin' dicks
+Playa hatin' pushin' stolen whips
+We at the dice game rollin' tricks
+OT, throwin bricks, takin' ova
+Cookin' up coke with baking soda
+Yeah, you better spread with them 30 dollar kicks on
+Or get whipped on, knocked out cold and pissed on
+L is a heavy waiter, with steady paper
+You the type that go to jail for a petty capor
+Then come home on good behaviour
+Talkin' about you know longer hard now
+Cause you a man of God now
+It was amazin', L is blazin' always been
+Before I put the braids in, I used to let the waves spin
+Shit you be sayin' don't impress me at all
+And those chicks you be J'in don't be sexy at all
+Word life, everything that I recite stand out
+Go ahead and front so I can try this right hand out
+Across your jaw, L never losed a war
+No respect for them faggots who enfore the law
+You got suttin' to say cough it out
+Cause niggas be wanted beef
+But when you pull out the heat they ready to talk it out
+What is there to talk about, you was just frontin'
+Now it ain't nuttin', ain't that suttin'
+I should start bustin' anyway and put one of you punks in the ground
+Y'all niggas be killin' me with y'all faces around, jumpin' around
+Like you scarin' L not even
+Cause I'mma be a thug 'till I stop breathin'
+Plus I'm runnin' with a smooth ass crew
+That will shoot at you
+You wan't to knuckle up, then fuck it we can do that do, nigga
+I never hesitate to buck my gun
+Harlem World, y'all know where the fuck I'm fromEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Nigga Please[Stan Spit]
+(Hey yo, hey yo)
+You would scream too if you know what I did last summer
+Came through frontin' in the glass hummer
+No shirt mad ice screaming fuck is this nice
+Shit spit got a six and I'm fucking ya wife
+Yo this time around its just me 'Gruff and L
+So get you some henny and blaze a fuckin L
+This time its platinum and it ain't hard to tell
+Yo a lotta niggas got on fuckin wit L
+Those niggas slippin 'Gruff tell me if I'm slippin
+Cause I'm quick to load the clip and let the slugs start rippin
+Your flesh and your soul gettin torn apart
+Shit my ice so bright that it glow in the dark
+And to the cat who killed L, up north he won't live
+I want his ass cut from his ears to his ribs
+Cut his fingers off and send the pieces to his kids
+Harlem World Danger Zone thats just the way shit is
+.22's .45's and .357's, two .38's and four Mac .11s
+138 and yo 'Gruff I'm dumb crazy
+Rather pull the trigger than fight I'm dumb lazy
+Talkin out your mouth'll get you buried down south
+Me 'n L got the range so you know what we about
+Hey yo, watch what you say for I watch where you lay
+Cause sooner or later my Glock got to spray
+And guns, are meant to bust
+Thats what I truly resent and us inventors, shit not us
+We put 'em in the ghetto and we put 'em to the test
+Matter fact nigga we put 'em through your vest
+Send a message to the presindent tell 'em we shady still
+Still cop guns despite the Brady bill
+And as far as guns go I'mma let my guns blow
+Should they ban guns the answers hell no
+[McGruff]
+Nigga Please, fuck talk let the trigger squeeze
+Nigga Please, fuck a nigga go to Beleize
+Nigga Please, my desert E's kill like disease
+?Dont let a nigga breathe...?
+Harlem backbone pack crome
+139 Lennox ave. thats home
+Crack domes, well to all my niggas thats gone
+Kerry, Nate the Skate, Reggy White, L Corleone
+We still the dangerzone
+Where no man can withstand to hold his own
+Nigga Please, know when you home alone
+Shoot through your peephole blow out your chromosones
+Nigga Please, 'Gruff kill niggas for real
+And I kill you right know, but these niggas gon' squeal
+Nigga Please, squirts slugs that hurt thugs
+Rap's secondary, murder's my first love
+Nigga Please, always get the last laugh
+Stash math anything in my path smash
+'Bout fast cash niggas be splittin shit half-half
+Staff laugh puttin up them gats and masks (nigga please)
+
+[Big L]
+Y'all fellas like to stress them chicks
+Impress them chicks
+Spend money to dress them chicks
+I sex them chicks and send 'em home
+Corleone is know to be stoned
+When I bone I'm doubled up in case that chick full blown
+The other night around 8pm, pockets crazy slim
+Jumped out the gray BM, went to the ATM
+Took a thou out, then later on I had to wil' out
+In the club, knocked this coward and his pal out
+Then afterwords went to the restroom pissed cristal out
+Then I'm thinkin' what chick number I can dial out
+Cause its L, the harlem pimp baby
+For real, I got more dimes than that sprint lady
+And thats ill, player haters be givin me harsh looks
+But I'm tryin to sell records like garth brooks
+So F' 'em all, when its cold I keep the skelly on
+Illegal chips keep my celly on
+Mega ice is what I'm heavy on
+If it ain't cristal boo, I guess its perignon
+If the na-nas too tight, I put some jelly on
+Yo try to tax and watch the nine mil burst
+I've been off the scene for over three years
+And cats is still thirst
+They hear Big L droped a ill verse
+So all you unsigned cats who wanna battle get a deal first
+I sport the bulletproof fitted hat
+That attitude you better get rid of that
+Wherever you floss is where you gon' get it at
+I stay strapped I go to sleep with my steel
+I'm makin figgas while you broke cats is keepin it real...
+Flamboyant Records baby...EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Devil’s Son (Live From Amsterdam)[Big L]
+Throw that shit on
+
+"When I was twelve I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus"(3x) - Nas - Live @ The BBQ
+"I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns" - Nas - BackTo The Grill Again
+
+Ohhh uh uh uh uh uh
+Yeah yeah
+Check it out now check it out now
+Turn the mic up
+Yo rewind it back
+I like the way that went down
+Rewind that shit one more time, fuck that
+Let's go, one more time
+WHEN I WAS TWELVE
+
+"When I was twelve I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus" (3x)
+"I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns"
+
+I explain the story, check it out
+Aiyyo five slash three o slash seven fo' (5-30-74)
+A little bro' was born with the mind of a psycho
+They first knew I was a crazy nigga
+When my mother came home and found out I killed the babysitter
+I did more crime in due time
+Started my life of crime, about nine going out for mine
+I made every little kid from my hood run
+I was just like that little bastard from the Good Son
+And my mind was past bugged
+Dropped the blowdryer in the water while my moms in the bathtub
+Then I just saluted as she electrocuted
+They got booted cause that's another I executed
+I was a child runnin' wild like a goosechase
+Punish my dad I put poison in his toothpaste
+Then I picked my infant sister up gave her a quick spank
+Then dropped the little bitch in the fish tank
+I invited company, murdered the four guests
+Put a cap in each whore chest and ate their raw flesh
+I tell the truth I ain't lyin' man
+And right now I got my cousin Brian hand in a fryin' pan
+YeahEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+560 Tape Freestyle[Big L]
+I walk through the ruggedest blocks
+With jewels flooded with rocks
+Hustlin' on hot corners that be smuggled with cops
+I must warn, my Harlem crew roll strong
+Word bond, we leave mics torn,y'all niggas slept too long now it's on
+L Corleone'll never flop, rap style's forever hot
+Front on me you better not, I keep the Baretta cocked
+I got more papers than a New York Post
+Packin' toast, this host is quick to roast a mic then I'm ghost
+I'm not a soprano like that Italiano Sammy Gravano
+MCs is gettin' knocked off like Paulie Castellano
+This little menace be, guzzlin' Hennessy
+Props from here to Tennessee, police wanna finish me
+I run with cliques, pushin' luxury whips
+Who be callin' chicks on Motorola flips, with illegal chips
+Don't sleep troop, it's a fact I keep loot
+Dime bitches be all over Big L like a cheap suit
+The rap veteran, hot beats is the medicine
+Niggas'll never win, in a battle, cause I'm better than
+Ninety percent o' them, front and death'll be your minimum
+The grave is where I'm sendin' 'em, clowns, like Mack 10 and 'em, uh!
+I'm from the East Coast, this is how we roll in New York
+A bunch of rowdy niggas holdin' the fort
+Jackin' creeps, packin' heat
+These Harlem streets is for keeps
+Much love to all my peeps who got covered with sheets
+And uh, where I be dwellin' at snitches get killed
+On the real side, I probably fucked more bitches than Wilt, nigga
+In clown hearts I put a lotta fear
+One love to Fat Joe and 560 yeah, I'm outta here
+Yo McGruff, yo my mellow, my man
+Ayo uh, grab the mic and do the best ya can...EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+’92 Rock N. Wills Audition[Big L]
+Ayyo, I got the gift of gab
+To lift and grab, the mic
+And recite hype rhymes
+That'll rip and rag, and drag
+A fag MC, who likes to nag a lot
+And brag a lot, talkin' about the lyrics that he have are hot
+Step to this and get lit like a candle troop
+Rhymes I hook up, MCs I cook up
+Like Campbell's Soup
+I throw rhymes like a quarterback
+Front and you'll get bust and dust and crushed
+Bum rushed and all of that
+Rhymes never sound whack
+Cause I got 'em down pat
+Your rulin' time is over
+So gimme your crown jack
+I get hype fast
+And MCs might last
+A minute with me
+Because their rhymes are light as
+A feather
+And mines are heavy like a big brick
+Rappers catch a fit quick
+When I start to kick shit
+And I record my battles on a camcorder
+So I can sit back and watch me manslaughter
+MCs that tried to get wit' me hops
+That's why they all got tooken out like a Bensi box
+The crown is still mine cause I kick ill rhymes
+A lotta rappers talk that murder shit and couldn't kill time
+Or beat eggs or whip cream
+I'm smoother than Vaseline
+And I'm a stone cold rappin' fiend
+A lot of new jacks are comin' out, but that's cool
+Cause I'm the principal of the new school
+[Big L]
+Yeah, aight, check it out
+I control the microphone like a robot
+My lyrics are so hot, props I got a whole lot
+Cause wit' a pen and some paper this man makes
+Rhymes that're so damn great, with flavor like pancakes
+I'm kickin' rhymes like a game of kickball
+I'm rough like a brick wall, MCs take a big fall
+For tryin' to get with this, I'm too swift with this
+A microphone murderer full with magnificence
+A def rapper and also a swell one
+In a battle I cook MCs well done
+My hits are consecutive
+I'm a lyrical executive
+Bite my rhymes and I won't let you live
+So to be safe on the microphone homes
+Recite your own poems or get your dome flown
+Or put in a boot camp, L is the new champ
+I'm not the type to go out like a food stamp
+I'm throwin' rhymes like a pitcher throws a curve ball
+And I'm a serve all punks that try to brawl
+So stop sleepin' on me, don't even doze hops
+Or I'm a heat you up and eat you up like Stove Top
+Stuffin', I'm bum rushin', shorts I'm takin' none
+My rhymes weigh a ton, I'm not fakin' son
+You're the one who's fakin', tryin' to be a duplicate
+Can't kick stupid shit, tell you the truth, you should quit
+Rappin', start snappin', cause all you is a joke
+Battle L and get smoked
+Yo I overthrow ya and have ya screamin' like a rollercoaster
+Guzzle you down like a small cup o' Coca-Cola
+I'm goin' through MCs like a ransack
+Stand back, as I cruise smooth like a Am-Trak
+Your rhymes are rusty g, you can't fuck with me
+That's why you're hidin' in protective custody
+L's not the one and I keep MCs runnin'
+I hurt 'em like bunions, make 'em cry like onions
+I'm a lyrical fighter and I'm brighter than Einstein
+Try to bite my lines and you'll get a size nine
+Foot put in your ass for bein' a crook
+Hit with a vital hook and get your title took
+Yeah, I'm a pass it to my man
+
+[Lord Finesse]
+Now check it out, I'm a get paid for the nineteen nineties
+I don't care who likes me or who stands behind me
+The man to peep, far from weak so don't sleep
+From stage to streets I still go one deep
+So save that off the wall bullshit, ya get had son
+Fuck around, grab the mic and catch a bad one
+I come correct and strapped to bust a ill rap
+Me take a loss to who? Ya oughta kill that
+Back up, slack up, give a brother some head room
+Hype on the mic, amazin' in the bedroom
+Girls like me cause I'm straight and don't sidestep
+I do shit Jack LaLanne ain't tried yet
+Ask any female, bet you she'll say I'm good
+That's why I'm Finesse, porn star of the neighborhood
+Yeah, cause I kick slicker raps
+It's Lord Finesse, so bow and tip your hat
+And make way cause I get plenty say
+And those who don't like me I don't give a shit anyway
+Cause when it comes to lyrics I always find somethin'
+That make brothers press the rewind button
+I'm a get mine, tell me what you're gonna do?
+Cause ya couldn't see me if ya wanted to
+Get who you want, shit you could call the cops
+But for now, I'm gettin' all my props
+I reign terror, whatever's clever
+I'm cooler than The Mack and Shaft put together
+So chill, don't try to get ill dummy
+Me get stomped by who? Be for real, money
+I'm not havin' it so go on and get your best group
+You'll see why they call me Lord Finesse, troop
+I eat 'em like sandwiches, send 'em home in bandages
+Gimme that mic, I'll show you what doin' damage is
+Nice, swift and deeper than quicksand
+I'm takin' out opponents like a hit man
+I get the crowd hype like a sorta drug
+It's Lord Finesse, who the fuck you thought it was?
+I lounge and chill but still could get ill
+I'm live and real with skill beyond skill
+Pull girls like a lasso, keep the crazy cash flow
+A nigga beat me on the mic? Don't be an asshole
+I'm indestructible so bring in a substitute
+What's up with a battle? Yo I can't fuck with you
+[Lord Finesse]
+I'm intellectual, gettin' the best of you
+I eat MCs like the food at a festival
+Drop science and math; stand tall like a giraffe
+Completin' the…task, breakin' rappers in half
+Puttin' suckers out of it, yeah I talk a lot of shit
+But when it comes to rhymes I deserve a fuckin' scholarship
+Won't front or perp the role, I get the most of hoes
+I'm so cool, I've got pussy on remote control
+Whether you're a virgin or a bad lookin' hot sister
+I'm baggin' up bitches like a shoplifter
+So Lord Finesse is not the one to fool
+I was gettin' sex since they first invented Underoos
+So set it off, no time to rehearse the rappin'
+It's Lord Finesse, so prepare for the worst to happen
+Mics get ripped up, good times get tucked
+Throw your hands in the air, suckers keep your lips shut
+Cause ya'll wanna waste time sayin' them fake rhymes
+Gimme my respect and props or I'm a take mine
+Cause I ain't nothin' to play with
+And fuckin' with me ya need more than a first aid kit
+So it's better that ya chill and max with me
+I'm sendin' out warnin's quicker than a fax machine
+I get funky and kick it so let's get wit' it
+Opponents who think they can hang, y'all can forget it
+I sit and write rhymes, makin' up hype lines
+Achievin' shit you couldn't do in a lifetime
+So don't care me and compare me to those other brothers
+I'm Lord Finesse and I'm one bad ass muthafucker
+I'm doin' MCs as ya hire 'em
+Bustin' they ass and make 'em sign up for retirement
+Without doubt I'm a brother with all the clout
+Whoever said I'm whack, what the fuck is they talkin' about?
+Yeah, you don't stop, so L, my man my brother
+Tear shit up you bad muthafucker
+
+[Big L]
+Yo I'm the microphone murderer
+And I'm known for bustin' mad caps
+I was in rag tracks with rhymes that backslap
+'Causin' a nightmare, I don't fight fair
+Niggas playin' hard rock, hopin' they might scare
+The B-I-G-L but I'm not to be fucked wit'
+You're tryin' to take your idol's title?
+You on some bugged shit
+I keep the women fiendin' and screamin' for my smooth shit
+My rhymes are mad thick and yours is thin as a pool stick
+Fuck it, bust it, I like it rough and rugged
+Your style is wick whack and played out like nugget
+Bracelets, face this, you can't erase this, escape this
+Break this, take this, cause I bake this
+I get so loose on beats that I produce
+Niggas be frontin' crazy hard and got no juice
+They softer than paper plates, the lyrics I make is great
+A few sheets of loose leaf and a Erasermate
+Is all I need to write rhymes that are extra fly
+Mics I wreck and fry, rappers I petrify
+Pack a fo' fif' with eight shots
+With one you get popped
+And now you're locked in a box, dead, with no props
+I'm not jokin', there's no time for snappin'
+Niggas that be yappin', I'm puttin' caps in
+So base up or get sprayed up to the waist up
+You'll get found faced up, police can't trace up
+Fingerprints, why? Because I leave no evidence
+Big L's the name, one three nine is the residence, peaceEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+NY Freestyle[Big L]
+Check it out now
+Big L Corleone (no doubt), Flamboyant Entertainment (uh-huh)
+One love to my big brother Big Lee (no doubt)
+Holdin it down from the inside right now (come on)
+When you come home it's on (watch this)
+Herb McGruff (yo), Universal, Harlem World shit
+Yeah (no doubt), 1-3-9 and Lennox shit (you know how we do)
+Uh, danger zone shit, check it out
+
+I be twistin bitches alot, have em sit on this cock
+I wasn't prepared for this, I wrote my shit on the spot
+I be droppin like early August, late July
+Wit tracks that'll make you cry, hate you die
+Stop frontin, you got no dough, might a had, but not no mo'
+You mad cuz I knocked yo' ho
+While cops watch me, I got cats that watch po-po
+My block loco, don't need a crew I rock solo (what)
+Or wit my nigga Gruff
+These faggot niggas ain't as rich as us
+I need chicks to lust, smoke my weed mixed wit dust
+Go ahead and let your crew soup you up
+In the ambulance, gon' have to come and scoop you up
+Fuck wit my last soul, my new shit is goin past gold
+And if you don't agree, you's a asshole
+Mark my word, you gon' make me pump the bird
+And spark this herb, 'til homicide chomp the curb, ya heard?
+I never hesitate to bust my gun
+Harlem World, y'all know where the fuck I'm from
+[McGruff]
+The game of life, got ups and downs, downs and ups
+Kingpin cats lose they crowns in cuffs
+Some get murdered, some get shot (boaw boaw boaw)
+So lay on, nigga her-oin, cocaine, pot it don't stop
+Rise to the top, nigga stop despisin my pops
+Yeah I rap, but still got them pies on the block
+Bitches lookin at the size of my rocks, size of my knotts
+Keep a stash box, ride wit them Glocks
+Smoke 'dro, fuck po-po, fly from the cops
+(What) I'm Gruff and I'mma die for my props
+Die by the gun, thou shall come but for now have fun
+Fuck bitches, party, Cristal on my tongue
+Violence is young, wild as they come
+Catch me in Harlem World smokin silence wit sons, what
+Aiyyo cats wanna talk trash, yo I talk cash
+And take it, make they ass get naked
+It's a stickup (get on the floor),y'all niggas crash the pavement
+Pass yo' chains, pass yo' Rollies, pass yo' bracelets
+Or feel them hollow laced tips nigga
+I spray clips at the punks that be runnin they lips
+Not gunnin they bitch, gunnin them
+Squeeze off, don't miss none of them
+Shoot po-po right in front on them
+Double-M, goddamn niggas shouldn't have fucked wit him
+Y'all niggas sufferin, I'm thug hustlin
+Rushin in, in coke spots, cold bustin in
+Yeah it's us again, stuck you before
+Tied your monkey-ass up, took the bucks and the raw
+Nigga what, yeah Harlem World, Big L, Herb McGruff
+Nigga holdin it down, 9-8 shit, fuck that, word up
+[I Born]
+Aiyyo holy war, chrome four-four
+Twelve shots call, I came deep
+One-hundred-one wolves at your front door
+Mouths foamin, rubber grips laid on my hip
+Cock it and spit, slit his whole shit, empty the whole clip
+Pretty kid, broke a few ribs, did a murder bid
+Four-five, got hit wit two more, then the god slid
+Why try, watched men die, let the slugs fly
+Stay high, I'm from the streets Murderville, NY
+I told y'all I was comin, niggas thought I was frontin
+I want it all, in nine-bill I'm sayin something
+MC's petro, me lose hell no, you're wet no
+My verbal techno, spit it for dire out the Expo
+Me and D-O, on the lee-low, lay low
+Call Grago, Boriquas call em Flaco
+The latest Timb's, I got those
+Burn that ass like tobassco, you know my name
+Hot hell, Fidel Castro, ask no
+Questions, fuck you and your weapon
+You're pussy, your gun ain't went off since '87
+My Mac-11 shot thirty-three in your direction
+Where I come from, bums bust guns, what you expected
+Well connected, from the slums where life's hectic
+Niggas starvin, need paper, jackal's is desparate
+Aiyyo movin like Israeli, sippin Henny in Bentley's
+Got a deal now, I'm signed what the fuck can you tell me
+What, Murderville, all square beware
+Hot-hell nigga tortured
+[C.L. Smooth]
+Ha, listen closely, to how C.L.'s focus be
+Who wrote me, a diamond-gold ball rosary
+Had supposedly, tarnished his name and status
+Draw the fastest, force him go to the mattress
+Imagine this, in my technique's
+This swervin authentic version M.D. Mount. to Vernon
+Touchin anybody like that lime in Bacardi
+To whippin all the watercrafts down in Yardie
+Half-steppin, hardly make it son, perfectly clear
+My yacht master pay your rent for the year
+The buck stops here, ain't a damn thing funny
+Barbershop niggas always bad-mouthin money
+Or maybe, I'm the whole key to you shtick
+Hearin cats talk about me like a chick
+They gotta be sick, ad-libbing we singin
+Went from day one over there we bring it
+Or scrap like hockey, cock-ing, blow it ?a-key?
+The poss-e, car shows under the marquee
+Dressed up, caked out, and vest up
+Better rest up, pop bottles till I'm messed up
+Paper chase, play clubs like a vacation
+On occasion, politicin my situation
+Every broad care, what he drive, what he wear
+Wit a bonier whisperin the shit in my ear
+Yeah, the bombshell, trapped in the Caramel
+Get the parcel, iced down the cartel
+Knowin C.L.,do know you mack slow
+Bitches act though, bigger niggas call me Fatso
+Heavy-weight, regulate the tri-state
+My team can't wait, for the date to navigate
+Let me demonstrate, through time my man handsome
+To keep all the pretty girls dancin, HA
+Yeah yeah yeah yeah, I go around the world wit this yaknowim sayin?EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+’93 FreestyleYou better flee hops, or get your head flown three blocks
+L be keepin’ niggas hearts pumpin’ like Reeboks
+It's the nigga that bitches suck and sweat
+Faggots I buck and wet
+Disrespect and I'm a break your fuckin’ neck, I'm known to put a cap in a duck face
+I’m known for givin’ whack guys black eyes
+It's called Uptown; Front and get bucked down
+Walk through with jewels on, that ass'll get stuck clown
+I got styles you can't copy, bitch
+IIt's the triple six in the mix
+Straight from H-E double hockey sticks
+I'm the devil's son, like my song said
+I smash niggas like cornbread
+You can't kill me, I was born dead
+I wet shit up like a floodage
+Me and my crew peel caps and carry gats like it's luggage
+I'm nowhere near trash, so step to the rear fast
+Before I have your queer ass cryin’ like tear gas
+Every day I gain clout and my game sprout’
+Some niggas'll still be virgins if crack never came out’
+The Big L's hard to kill
+When my squad gets ill
+You better guard your grill, before you get scarred for real
+Big L is a large boss
+Known for puttin’ more holes in a nigga body than a golf course
+I'm crazy quick to knock a duck off
+I'll pull out then buck off
+And tear a nigga grill right the fuck off
+You'll get smoked like a Phillie fast
+And it’s a fact I pack a joint or two
+And right now you hearin’ shit from the Big L’s point of view
+‘cause your shit is really trash
+Fuck around, I’ll swing on ya silly ass
+It's Big L the crime converter
+Sayin’ peace to all the niggas in jail doin’ time for murder
+I wreck the mic, plus the whole stage
+Rockin’ cornrow braids
+I'm killin’ muthafuckers like old age
+Known to have a hottie open
+I keep a shotty smokin’
+Front and get half the bones in ya body broken
+I never false teach, so listen as the boss preach
+I only rock leathers by Marc Buchanan and North Beach
+I'm makin’ rap hits, I snap flicks at mack chicks
+Just the slim ones, you won't see L with no fat bitch
+Yo I'm the nigga that they call A.W.O.L
+Punks, I slay all, on my spare time I play ball
+In the playgrounds, I spray clowns with trey pounds
+Makin’ gs from transportin’ kis on Greyhounds
+My shit is kickin’ like a sensei
+I'm smoother than Ben Gay
+Comprende?
+I'm outtie like M.J
+So Herb McGruff
+My mellow, my nigga
+Get on the mic and pull the MC triggerEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Right To The Top[Royal Flush]
+Everybody stand up
+Flush is the man so let the grams cut
+One shot in ya butt, my guns never tucked
+Don't want a slut, finessed by the art of the cut
+Like Harlem World i'm doublin' up
+Feds wanna challenge us
+Off balance with silencers, locked up for calenders
+Made men reversed my life, started again
+Gone in the wind, respect niggas rhyming ten
+Stuck on the grind, with two nines hugging ya spine
+Addicted to crime, new car sitting on two dimes
+With two dime, New York niggas, we love shine
+Whether it's yours or mine by the night yours is mine
+That's shilling week anyway, fuck it, it's more shine
+I'm 24, your part time you ain't killing niggas
+Walking round and grilling niggas
+Acting like we ain't feeling niggas
+Pop bottle, roll with gorillas and breed drug dealers
+North, South, East to West ya'll gonna feel us
+
+[Hook]
+Word, we getting a job
+Hustle up, double up
+Cheddar starts kid, get that cheddar large
+Pedal Hard, and daily par
+Sky's the limit, die for this shit
+Living at
+Right to the top baby!
+[Big L]
+Fuck them other cats I'm running with my own wolfpack
+Keep fronting like you'se a thug and get your dome pushed back
+Coz you don't get down that tough shit you talk is profound
+You'se a clown
+Fuck around, come up town and get found
+I keep a pocket full, none of you niggas can touch my funds
+I don't fight no more all I do is bust my guns
+While you home relaxed i'm squeezin' Macs busting off caps
+Those coward cats with all their platinum plaques get taxed
+And I do Jooks, and slang Pies to make cream rise
+It's all about these green guys, front your whole team dies
+How I'm. Living so far? Swell you can't scar L
+Headed to cartel, selling more cakes than carvel
+And I'm labeled a kind thug, police got my line bugged
+Hope I see the grave from old age and not a nine slug
+I'm quick to bust a mean nut in some teen slut
+Big L is clean cut, with more jewels than King Tut
+
+[Hook]
+Word, we getting a job
+Hustle up, double up
+Cheddar starts kid, get that cheddar large
+Pedal Hard, and daily par
+Sky's the limit, die for this shit
+Living at
+Right to the top baby!
+[Kool G Rap]
+You know it's, dough for hoes
+Bank rolls, Rovers and clothes
+And shots blow all them cowards and foes
+Giacanna proud with the pros, foul mode
+We quick reachers, spear with the fearless til you drip liters
+Flip divas, them chicks, eager to strip to they tits and beaver
+Sip Cris' and sniff coke off the beater
+Yeah we ball big baby, look off the meter
+You should see us, it's movie star status
+Scar lackers lost cabbage, drip the Pablo Escobar fabrics
+Froze the road we chose, not a pretty route, let it out
+Grimey and grittied out, stack dough, jiggy out
+Dime bitches behavin like ya sex slave skizzied out
+Some nigga dizzy south, til he's out, busy mouth
+Swerve to the curb, hit the bird split the kitties out
+We kidnap for trap blackmail for a gang a mill
+Spot banger himself, fishscale rocks under the fingernails
+The blood trail lead to a corpse
+Treat my appetite for greed with a torch
+For keys to a Porsche, to breeze in the loft
+Roll up my hand sheets with the force
+We squeeze off, no need for remorse, playa
+Forty wild goons, we forty Calhouns
+You die forty foul dooms for forty coward moves
+Bless sparkle, and spark until my shorty style rules
+Giancanna dead? Widespread, I'll be a 40 mile tune baby
+
+[Hook]
+Word, we getting a job
+Hustle up, double up
+Cheddar starts kid, get that cheddar large
+Pedal Hard, and daily par
+Sky's the limit, die for this shit
+Living at
+Right to the top baby!EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Exclusive 2003 Shit[Intro: Big L & DJ Ron G]
+Big L, Harlem's finest
+Yeah, the nigga who hold it down for uptown
+(My nigga Big L!)
+Who gets down for the count
+(Rest in peace, my nigga! Love you)
+To drop something
+
+[Verse 1: Big L & DJ Ron G]
+I keep a stash full of cash, puffing grass with a dash of some hash
+Jeans be saggin' off half of my ass
+I keep it ghetto, still, I'm a fly fellow
+I love the cuties, no matter if they dark-skin or high yellow
+My iceberg sweaters and leathers are raw
+I'm getting cheddar galore like never before
+I can pull a dime quicker than Dillinger can pull a heist
+I rock the blue face presidential for the ice (Woo!)
+Me and my crew is sick like the flu
+So what you gon' do, boo, when we come for you, huh?
+It ain't no calling time out once I climb out the garbage can
+Get two nines out, and blow your spine out
+
+[Interlude: DJ Ron G]
+Don't forget y'all, Ron G
+You only gonna hear it right here, exclusive
+Big, big shout-out to the whole 39th, 40th
+You heard?
+[Chorus: Nas, Freeway, 50 Cent]
+How could you call yourself MC?
+If you from the hood, I know you feel me
+How could you call yourself MC?
+I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned
+How could you call yourself MC?
+If you from the hood, I know you feel me
+How could you call yourself MC?
+I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned
+
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Ayo, my whole entourage is large from here to Vegas
+Imitators hate us 'cause we sport gators and flavors
+Put snitches in boxes, coppers and federals watch us
+They tried everything in this world to lock us but can't stop us
+I'm known for rockin' tours, picture me moppin' floors
+Only fuck with ki's and not the kind that be lockin' doors
+What I recite be takin' hours to write
+So if you bite, just tell your man what kind of flowers you like
+I be that buck wild, foul criminal who make the women smile
+It's time to drop something new, it's been a while
+And L is that nigga you expect
+To catch wreck on any cassette deck
+I'm so ahead of my time, my parents haven't met yet
+
+[Chorus: Nas, Freeway, 50 Cent]
+How could you call yourself MC?
+If you from the hood, I know you feel me
+How could you call yourself MC?
+I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned
+How could you call yourself MC?
+If you from the hood, I know you feel me
+How could you call yourself MC?
+I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned
+[Outro: Big L & Ron G]
+Word up, man
+Nowadays these cats don't be representin' the microphone like they supposed to
+Word up, so we gotta take it back
+Only real niggas with skills should get deals, word up
+One love to the whole Harlem clique
+Herb McGruff, Mase Murda, C.O.C., Killa Cam, Bloodshed
+You know how we do, Ron G, make it hot
+Uh, uh, uh, uhEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+98' Halftime RadioYa'll cats like to stress them chicks, impress them chicks
+Spend money to dress them chicks, I sex them chicks
+And send them home, Corleone known to be stoned
+When I bone, I'm rubbered up in case that chick full blown
+The other night around 8pm, pockets crazy slim
+Jumped out the gray bm, went to the atm
+Took a thou' out and later on I had to wild out
+In da club knock some kid and his pal out
+Afterwards, went to the restroom, pissed Cristal out
+Now I'm thinkin' what chick number I can dial out
+Cuz its L, the Harlem pimp baby, for real
+I got more dimes then that sprint lady, and thats ill
+Playa haters be givin me harsh looks, but I'm tryina sell records like Garth Brooks
+So F em all, when it's cold I throw the skelly on
+Illegal chips, keep my celly on, mega ice is what I'm heavy on
+If it ain't Cristal boo, I guess its Perignon
+If the nana's too tight, I throw some jelly on
+Try to tax and watch the 9 mil burst
+I've been off the scene over 2 years, and cats is still thirst
+They hear Big L drop an ill verse, so all you unsigned cats that wanna battle get a deal first
+I sport da bulletproof, fitted-hat, that attitude you betta get rid of that
+Whereava u floss is where u gon get it at
+What, stay strapped, go to sleep wit my steel
+Makin figures while u broke cats is keepin it real
+L is raps most livest cat, gettin stacks while u askin people "do u want fries with that"?
+I rob fags in da staircase, no mask, bare face
+The one police wouldn't dare chase, keep my gear laced
+Do I walk around without cash? No way pal
+Word up, my money longer than the OJ trial
+Yo while we hold gats, you hold knives
+When you sold 8's, we sold pies
+When you rode bikes, we drove 5's
+There's no comparison son, it's just embarrasing
+I'm runnin with some of the baddest men in the whole New York
+We hold the fort while you crap cats is holdin
+Playa hatin, pushin stolen whips
+We at the dice game rollin trips, out of town throwin bricks
+Takin over, cookin up coke with baking soda
+I buy hot jewels and ice it down, while you go to the jewelry store with short doe tryna bring the prices down
+You better spread with them 30 dollar kicks on
+Or get whipped on, knocked out cold, and pissed on
+L is a heavyweighter with steady paper
+You the type to go to jail for a petty caper
+Then come home on good behavior
+Talkin bout you no longa hard now cuz you a man of God now
+Yo it's amazin, L is blazin, always been
+Before I put the braids in, I use to let the waves spin
+What you be sayin don't impress me at all
+Them chicks you be jayin donit be sexy at all
+Word life, to everything that I recite stand out
+Go head and front so I can try this right hand out
+Across yo jaw, L neva lost a war
+No respect for them cowards who enforce the law
+You got sumthin to say, then cough it out
+Cuz cats be wantin beef, but when you pull out the heat
+They ready to talk it out
+What is there to talk about, you was just fronting now it ain't nuthin
+Ain't that sumthin, I should start bussin anyway
+Put one of you punks in the ground
+Ya'll cats be killin me with ya'll faces frown, jumpin around
+Like you scared of L, not even, cuz imma be a thug until I stop breathin
+Plus I'm runnin' with a real smooth crew that'll shoot at you
+You wanna knuckle up, whateva, we can do that tooEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Once Again[Chorus]
+And once again the man's back "Big L"
+Half ya'll niggas like damn it this niggas done, done it again
+And Once again the man's back "Big L"
+I got styles you can't copy bitch
+
+[1st verse]
+Aye yo, I should of been out
+I'm deadly when I pull the pin out
+Keep frontin' i'mma try your chin out, I knocked a lot of men out
+I left em on the floor spittin' phlegm out
+It's either that or I'mma squeeze the gat and pop 10 out
+You see Corleone, ice finnin, jigged out bright linen
+And if a bitch don't like me, she must like women
+Everytime I come around you see your wife grinnin
+Don't be mad coz your career's in the 9th inning
+It's over now nigga leave the game
+I'm from the danger zone where MC's get slain
+We're thugs that never hesitate to squeeze the flame
+Where niggas be taking drugs just to ease the pain
+Hustlers flip cokey, 48 hours like Nick Nolte
+When I was OT, yo bitch wrote me
+First day home I dived in it
+Left her thighs dented
+Now that bitch be pagin' me every five minutes
+Emcees I squash and disgrace, it's all about the Benjis
+So why your bills got Washington's face?
+A lot of cats be frontin'
+Mad singles wit' a fifty on top
+L tryin' to have the city on lock
+Peace to Biggie and Pac 'cuz they really were hot
+Rap game, heavy hitters, it's a shame they no longer wit' us
+Niggas wanna be L, ladies wanna see L
+If I go to jail you'll wear a shirt sayin' "Free L!"
+What
+[Chorus] x2
+And once again the man's back "Big L"
+Half ya'll niggas like damn it this niggas done, done it again
+And Once again the man's back "Big L"
+I got styles you can't copy bitch
+
+Aye yo I hear a lot of bitch in your talk
+See a lot of switch in your walk
+Only thugs get rich in New York
+Time is running out
+Niggas like L' when you coming out
+Because they sick of all this drag queen shit
+Your wife's missing im the nigga she was last seen with
+Me and Ron hit it up on some tag team shit
+A bunch of niggas got smoked for the cash
+Used to ride greyhounds with dime holes and stuff the coke in they ass
+Crazy beef's got provoked in the past, lot of wigs got split
+A lot of innocent kids got hit
+Harlem World be the place of my birth, believe me son
+We breed the smoothest niggas on the face of the earth
+Mics I steadily smoke, rhymes cleverly wrote
+As long as I can rock a crowd I'm a never be broke
+Some hoes treated me like a bum nerve when I was unheard
+Now I'm icey, I ain't gotta say one word, you dumb bird
+I push whips while you walk all day
+And I hate when strange niggas wanna talk all day
+Clown ass shit, hate to be around that shit
+You don't know me, just say whatsup, gimme a pound, that's it
+When I was at the steak house, pullin' cake out
+You was at some cheap Chinese shit gettin' take out
+How you make out, you took the fake route, you oughta break out
+You couldn't get a bitch before you put your tape out
+What
+[Chorus] x2
+And once again the man's back "Big L"
+Half ya'll niggas like damn it this niggas done, done it again
+And Once again the man's back "Big L"
+I got styles you can't copy bitchEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Zone of Danger[Verse 1: Big L]
+The microphone is through when this rap legend grab it
+Sendin' poems to have them faggots
+Diggin' hoes like Reverend Swaggart
+L's the nigga that crime follows
+I'm hittin' fine models and stabbin' punks with broken wine bottles
+I beat chumps 'til they head splits
+Then break 'em like bread sticks
+I sex chicks, I'll even fuck a dead bitch
+Always sprayin' TEC's, because I be stayin' vexed
+Some nigga named Dex was in the projects layin' threats
+I jumped out the Lincoln, left him stinkin'
+Put his brains in the street
+Now you can see what he was just thinkin'
+I'm chokin' enemies 'til they start turnin' pale
+Satan said I'm learnin' well, Big L's gonna burn in Hell
+Front and get scarred 'cause your rap style ain't even hard
+I run with a heathen squad, and none of us believe in God
+
+[Hook: McGruff + Big L]
+(McGruff:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lennox is the Danger Zone
+(Big L:) Where no man can withstand or hold his own
+(Big L:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lennox is the Danger Zone
+(McGruff:) Where no man can withstand or hold his own
+
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+I got styles you can't copy, bitch
+It's the triple six in the mix, straight from H-E-double-hockey sticks
+Every Sunday, a nun lay from my gun spray
+Fuck Carlito, we doin' shit the Devil Son's way
+Every minute, my style switches up
+They said a real man won't hit a girl
+Well, I ain't real, 'cause I beat bitches up
+I use words that's ill, L got nerves of steel
+I'm cool, but every now and then I get a urge to kill
+I'm takin lives for a great price
+I'm the type to snap in Heaven with a MAC-11 and rape Christ
+And I'm fast to put a cap in a fag chest
+The Big L's mad stressed, 'cause Hell is my address
+I'm on some satanic shit strictly
+Little kids be wakin' up cryin'
+Yellin', "Mommy, Big L is comin' to get me!"
+[Hook: McGruff + Big L]
+(McGruff:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lennox is the Danger Zone
+(Big L:) Where no man can withstand or hold his own
+(Big L:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lennox is the Danger Zone
+(McGruff:) Where no man can withstand or hold his own
+
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+I keep a cutie with a soft booty
+Hoes be runnin' up, "Can I get your autograph, L?"
+No, bitch, I'm off duty
+I'm breakin' hottie hearts, niggas drop when my shotty sparks
+It ain't no food in my fridge, just body parts
+I keep the gear fresh, I keep the braids rugged
+I never wear rubbers, bitch – if I get AIDS, fuck it!
+A beef with me, you better prevent it 'cause in a minute
+I'll jump out a tinted rented, and leave a nigga body dented
+And my swoll knob your main girl cold-slobbed
+And gave a blow job to my whole mob, with no prob'
+Ayo, crazy bitches slept with L
+Then they niggas got mad and tried to step to L
+But I'm sicker than a nigga that's in special ed
+So I suggest you spread, pretzelhead
+'Fore I turn your white sweatsuit red
+
+[Hook: McGruff + Big L]
+(McGruff:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lennox is the Danger Zone
+(Big L:) Where no man can withstand or hold his own
+(Big L:) 'Cause one-three-nine and Lennox is the Danger Zone
+(McGruff:) Where no man can withstand or hold his ownEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Day One ’99 (Live From Amsterdam)[Talk]
+[A.G.] We here, I'm here. Big L here. I'm here. We representin DITC
+So you know we gotta come take it on some DITC shit
+[Big L] Hey hold up, hold up, hold up
+[A.G.] The crew ain't here but we always represent for the crew
+[Big L] Hey hold up, before we get into this next shit
+Y'all know the chorus to this shit or what right
+I know y'all know the chorus to this shit, right
+
+[A.G.] Most these rap cats
+[Big L] Don't know where it started, where it came from
+We been reppin this shit
+[Both] since Day One
+Diggin In The Crates originators
+Why niggas playa hate us
+Knowin damn well they can't fade us
+[Big L] Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
+[Both] Like that y'all
+[Big L] I'mma change my verse up, fuck that
+I'mma kick the '99 version of this shit
+Check it out. Let y'all know I ain't to be fucked with
+Check it out
+[A.G.] My nigga Big L
+
+{Big L}
+My whole clique thievin
+The wolves out because it's sic season
+This ain't the time to have your wrists freezin
+I might throw the big gat
+To your six pack
+Click clack
+Let me get that
+Make it quick black
+Fuck the chit chat
+Why y'all test
+Knowin these hot slugs will fry y'all flesh
+Taxin faggots like the I-R-S
+I used to front
+But never really rich
+You silly bitch
+Push willy whips
+Like the white Volva
+Front on Corleone, ya life's over
+I bought my main girl an ice choker
+Catch her cheatin and I might smoke her
+I make the right words blend
+Pimp these hoes like I'm Iceberg Slim
+And if I go to jail I might serve ten
+Clowns I disrespect
+Throw this gun in they face, make 'em kiss the tek
+Then I snatch the ice off they wrists and neck
+You better not budge when I point the semi at you
+What's that? A karat in ya ear, then
+Gimme that too
+Shit, I'm takin it all
+I'm not leavin a cent
+When everything out yo pockets faggot
+Even the lint
+You know the game plan
+AG, that's my main man
+We never bring luggage
+We go shoppin when the plane lands
+Still run with the same clan
+Used to be a Kane fan
+Everytihng I rock is name brand
+Element, ya dame swallow
+Your ice don't shine and your chain hollow
+While you front in clubs for hours with the same bottle
+Takin midget's sips
+I run with the richest cliques
+Fuck the thickest chicks
+Plus drop the sickest hits
+You know nuthin about L
+So don't doubt L
+What this motherfucking rap game without L
+Yeah, that's like Jews without ice
+That's like China without rice
+Or the Holy Bible without Christ
+Or the Bulls without Mike
+Or crackheads without pipes
+The Village without dykes
+Or hockey games without fights
+AZ: (Day One chorus, fade out)EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+MVP (Summer Smooth Mix)[Big L answering machine message]
+Ayo, what's up, this is Big L, know'm'sayin'
+Calling you to see how that joint, you know'm'sayin', came out
+
+[Intro: Miss Jones & Biz Markie sample]
+I'd like to introduce myself
+It's Big L
+I'd like to introduce myself
+It's Big L
+I'd like to introduce myself
+It's Big L
+I'd like to introduce myself
+It's Big L
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Ayo, spark up the phillies and pass the stout
+Make it quick money grip or your ass is out
+In a street brawl, I strike men quicker than lightning
+You seen what happened in my last fight friend? A'ight, then
+L's a clever threat, a lyricist who never sweat
+Comparing yourself to me is like a Benz to a Chevrolette
+And clown rappers I'm bound to slay
+I'm saying hi to all the cuties from around the way
+Yeah cause I got all of them sprung, Jack
+My girls are like boomerangs
+No matter how far I throw 'em they come back
+I'm coming straight out the NYC
+I'm down with Diggin' In The Crates and I'm MVP
+[Chorus: Miss Jones & Indo]
+If rap was a game he'd be MVP
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+I said if rap was a game he'd be MVP
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Yo, it's a must that I get papes
+Peace to all the DJ's who gave me love on they mixtapes
+And once again the man's back with a dance track
+So here's your chance Jack to get loose and let your hands clap
+I got juice like Boku, mad crews I broke through
+Brothers be mad 'cause I hit more chicks than they spoke to
+And every time I'm jammed I always find a loophole
+I got a crime record longer than Manute Bol
+And my raps are unbelievable like aliens and flying saucers
+No more iron horses 'cause I'm buying Porsches
+Coming straight out the NYC
+Peace to the Kid Capri, I'm MVP
+
+[Chorus: Miss Jones & Indo]
+If rap was a game he'd be MVP
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+I said if rap was a game he'd be MVP
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+[Bridge: Miss Jones & Biz Markie sample]
+I'd like to introduce myself
+It's Big L
+I'd like to introduce myself
+It's Big L
+
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+Battles, I lose none, I make crews run
+I get fools done, got ten fingers but only use one
+I run up like Machine Gun Kelly with a black skully
+Put one in your belly, leave you smelly, then take your Pelle Pelle
+I'm the neighborhood lamper, punani vamper
+Mess around you'll find my silk boxers in your mommy's hamper
+And nowadays girls want you for your money
+I'm like Hev, I got nothing but love for you, honey
+And since I'm looking slick and my pockets are thick
+I need surgery to get chicks removed from my (chill)
+I'm coming straight out the NYC
+Rap's my J-O-B, and I'm MVP
+
+[Chorus: Miss Jones & Indo]
+If rap was a game he'd be MVP
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+I said if rap was a game he'd be MVP
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+If rap was a game he'd be MVP
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+I said if rap was a game he'd be MVP
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+[Bridge: Miss Jones & Biz Markie sample]
+I'd like to introduce myself
+It's Big L
+I'd like to introduce myself
+It's Big L
+I'd like to introduce myself
+It's Big L
+I'd like to introduce myself
+It's Big L
+Big L
+Big L
+
+[Outro: Miss Jones]
+If rap was a game he'd be MVP
+I said if rap was a game he'd be MVP
+If rap was a game he'd be MVP
+I said if rap was a game he'd be MVP
+If rap was a game he'd be MVP
+I said if rap was a game he'd be MVP
+If rap was a game he'd be MVP
+I said if rap was a game he'd be MVPEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Uptown Reps[ Intro: Man ]
+The uptown connec' is very powerful
+What we need to do is
+Build somethin, so powerful
+That nobody can fuck with us
+See what I mean?
+Okay
+Fuck those cockroaches
+
+[ Mase ]
+Yeah
+Check it out
+Here come
+Mase
+The muthafuckin big l
+My nigga gruff
+Bout to bring it to you faggots
+So when this shit drop
+Y'all niggas be ready to go for your guns, nigga
+Check it out
+1-2
+Hit em one time, yo
+
+[ Verse 1: Mase ]
+Yo, I barely know you
+But the way you front, make you wanna blow you
+You rappin, but you local, my shit is goin global
+Niggas ain't ready, nah, fuck figures that petty
+I want bricks so thick, you cut em with machetes
+Any nigga met me know I'm bout gettin cheddy
+Ain't nothin fancy, settle for 1500 chevy
+I watched my man get banned tryin to plan scams
+Done ran grams on a pan am to san fran
+We want the money, so it's a must we get paid
+I puff in the shade, rock clothes custom-made
+Send bricks to papi, be big as liberacce
+You don't believe me? nigga, watch me
+Unfold your phone and call up all your soldiers at home
+Tell em you saw mase in rolling stone holdin a chrome
+Now he probably out in a poconos strokin hoes
+Smokin those, celebratin, open the mo? s
+A cool guy, even a cool guy can't get too high
+Even his boo'll try to set him for his moolah
+The cops take us to where a cell block await us
+I watch my capers clock and paper rock on glaciers
+Yo l, I ain't got to tell you what to do
+[ Big L ] (what up, what up? )
+Man, just lace them niggas
+[ Big L ] (aight, you know how we gon' do this)
+Word up, dun
+[ Big L ]
+Harlem nyc style
+B.I.G. style
+MVP style
+Baby, check it out
+[ Verse 2: Big L ]
+Check it, I got more papers than the new york post
+Packin toast, this host is quick to roast the mic, then I'm ghost
+I'm not a soprano like that italiano sammy gravano
+Mc's be gettin knocked off like Paulie Castellano
+This little menace be guzzlin hennessy
+Props from here to tennessee, police wanna finish me
+You know I hate jakes, they mad cause I make papes
+I'm large like the great lakes, with drug spots in 8 states
+Chillin, makin sure this money is right
+Sippin sunny delite, hittin every honey in sight
+Playboy, tracks I like rough, ain't that right, gruff?
+I might puff some green shit, but no white stuff
+I shoot the gift like a quick fix, front and get your shit stitched
+I drop slick hits (go l) get off my dick, bitch
+When I was broke, you ain't wanna see me get rich
+Now I kill tracks and flip bricks and murder nitwits
+And I'm all about big bankrolls, clothes and hostin shows
+Smokin foes and strokin hoes in the Poconos
+Without cash you ain't meant to live
+Signin out corleone, the uptown representative
+
+Hey yo, gruff, man
+This is yo track, man
+What you waitin for?
+Rip this shit
+[ Verse 3: McGruff ]
+Now my life somethin finer, it wasn't when I was a minor
+See, but now I'm pumpin china
+White, nigga, yeah, right out the diner
+For this shit here I could get time in either
+Facility, locked up where all the villains be
+Make your first move if you're bored of grillin me
+From harlem world, take care of your mob and your girl
+Too much dom, gruff can't starve in this world
+.38 revolve with the pearl
+My wolves hollerin at the moon as the earth revolve in a twirl
+Blood thirst, nigga with dough get rushed first
+Get him, a thug search, tell him these slugs hurt
+Do you in, hooligans, timbs and rough shirts
+Bust jerks, better duck when gruff squirts
+Leave niggas in more pain than when your nuts hurt
+Give niggas the business, done-done much dirt
+
+Alright, alright
+You see what I'm talkin about?
+That's what I'm talkin about
+Who started this?
+Uptown!
+Who made this?
+Harlem!
+Soon the whole world will be high!
+Everything's sugarless, baby
+Now okay!EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Don’t Sleep[Big L]
+Yeah, I got two of my muthafuckin' peoples from Children of the Corn about to represent
+It's the Big L, and we gon' do a lil summin' like this
+So check it out yo
+Aiyyo, knock, knock
+
+[Killa Kam]
+Guess who
+
+[Bloodshed]
+Bloodshed to your rescue
+I'm rougher than the projects that niggas don't walk next to
+My mental, sense is drenched from the Beck's brew
+Eyes chinky like an oriental; far from gentle
+
+[Killa Kam]
+You'd rather douche B, before you mush me
+Or even push me black, in fact I call you Cujo, B
+Cause all y'all some pussy cats
+Give me the gun, and watch this trooper spark it, I maneuver targets
+Cause I be packing like the minions in the supermarkets
+
+[Bloodshed]
+Yo, my style is mastered, blunts; never pass it
+Stay blasted, Jurrasic type cash up the ass split
+I'm mad sick, when shit get hectic, I wet shit
+When my TEC spit, it's redruM cause I'm dyslexic
+Out of my crew I am the loc'est one, so don't provoke the strung
+Or my smoking gun'll leave you soaking son
+I speak the truth, so you should all figure
+My double four trigger's +Above The Law+ like that Seagal nigga
+And I'm a buddah head until I'm dead
+It ain't no changin' Bloodshed
+Tough bread, enough said
+[Killa Kam]
+Aiyyo, check it out
+It ain't no fools in rappin
+Nigga play me, pull out the tool and clap him
+I don't care if the kid's quadruple platinum
+My peeps ain't cheap, they deal coke
+And when my steel smokes, you will choke
+You feel dope? You won a hundred battles, and you still broke
+You a joke loc, nothin' but a slow poke
+Your ass couldn't paddle in a row boat, you know ho
+Let me tell you a few things, don't care who your crew brings
+Cause when my trey-deuce sings, you'll get laced up like shoestrings
+Nobody can touch my rhythm
+My brother Hud'll get 'em, and I bring Blood to victims
+When they get stuck like stick 'ems
+
+[Hook x2 - Big L]
+Aiyyo, my crew never fights fair
+(SO DON'T SLEEP MUTHAFUCKAS)
+Cause it's your worse nightmare
+
+[Killa Kam]
+Aiyyo, this kiko will dismantle cancers
+Handle dancers, voodoo do y'all Kangol dancers
+Handle wraths, get put inside ambulances
+My gat'll screech each adder scenes, now up in magazines
+Heavy D fucked up my black, coffee got to have that cream
+[Bloodshed]
+Check it, yo move
+Mics I be tearing them, from here to Maryland
+I'm known to bury men, and drug mics with more dope than heroin
+I clear the block like one time, plus street sweepers combined
+My gun rhymes make niggas wonder why I'm still unsigned
+
+[Killa Kam]
+And never see me run, believe me hun
+It ain't no freebees sons, go out with BB guns
+Then niggas say, "Can we be chums?"
+
+[Bloodshed]
+You must've went to the Wizard and got some heart
+To fuck with Bloodshed because I spark with mints in the dark
+
+[Killa Kam]
+Yeah, and I'm the 'nnihilator
+You couldn't figure out with a calculator
+You sweet like candy, eat you Now and Later
+
+[Bloodshed]
+I extort dough like broken phones
+I'm on my smoking bones, and tokin' chromes
+To have you croaking with soaking domes
+[Killa Kam]
+Yeah, and bitches see me, they run double-fast
+They got trouble? Laugh
+Cause I make niggas' mouth foam up like a bubblebath
+
+[Bloodshed]
+On my block, niggas get licked quick
+My man Caroni got his wig split
+He could've signed, but had no time for legit shit
+
+[Killa Kam]
+You play like punk rock, I catch wreck when the funk drop
+You a chump hops, and I stunt cops, whenever I let my trunk pop
+And devour turbans, who this coward hurtin'?
+See me every hour flirting, with a nine to wet niggas up like shower curtains
+
+[Bloodshed]
+That goes to all the niggas faking the Jacks
+I be like Jason, racing through your block with a axe
+And I be chasin', til I meet your crew face to face and
+The first nigga basin', I'm wastin', closed casin' nigga
+
+[Hook x4 - Big L]
+Aiyyo, my crew never fights fair
+(SO DON'T SLEEP MUTHAFUCKAS)
+Cause it's your worse nightmare
+
+[Outro - Big L]
+Word up, the Children of the Corn is puttin' it on from now on
+Word up, muthafuckin' flavor's in Harlem act like you know
+Word up, Children of the Corn, represent
+
+[Bloodshed]
+Yanamsayin, I wanna give a shoutout to, the whole downtown 110th
+
+[Killa Kam]
+Aiight, fuck y'all dumbass bitches, b
+
+[Bloodshed]
+Word to mother, all the way back up to thirt-EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Stretch & Bobbito ’92Word, check it out, check it out
+Check it out, bust it
+
+M.C.'s get taught a lesson when the mic is in my po-session
+Rap's my pro-fession, L is nice. No question
+It's a fact I stay geared it shouldn't be weird
+That I'm feared, cuz my raps are rougher than a nappy beard
+I cook rappers like a chef
+I'm Def like Jef, right to left
+My raps are badder than mornin breath
+For niggas deaths I'm the number one suspect
+Cuz I catch much wreck, 'specially when I'm upset
+Suckers I'm a stiggedy star
+Breakin 'em up and then takin they heart
+You better believe that Big L is the man that be rippin the microphones
+Apart
+I hold a 40 right because I'm the naughty type
+When I strike the mic, niggas be like, "Shorty hype!"
+I'm smoother than velvet, my lyrics is well writ'
+You sayin L's dis and L's dat, get off L dick
+Rhymes I create and knock out ya gold tooth
+Battlin me's like fightin a gorilla in a phone booth
+I wreck mics and drop the cool speeches
+Nowadays rappers think they motherfuckin school teachers
+1-2, 1-2, Rappers I run through
+Fuck Karate, I practice Gun-Fu
+The Big L is an assassinator
+I grab the mag and leave a fag leakin like Activator
+I'm the nigga that you never even thought of beatin
+Black, white, or Puerto Rican
+I'm gonna slaughter each an'
+Every crap M.C. that runs up when the battle comes up
+Gimme two thumbs up
+PeaceEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Sandman 118[Intro]
+Ayo, check out, 1-2, 1-2, it's the Big mothafuckin' L
+And I'm 'bout to catch wreck off this dirt man shit
+Yo, check it out, this that Sandman 118 shit
+And it's the B-I-G-L, straight from 139 in fucking Lenox
+Harlem, the danger zone, I gotta represent it
+Somebody gotta do it, you know what I'm sayin'?
+Ayo, I got a new single out, It's called "M.V.P."
+The most valuable poet, you know what I'm sayin'?
+'Cause I'm the most valuable poet when it come to this shit
+And I'ma prove it right now, check it out
+
+[Verse]
+My clique is quick to put a bullet in a strangers dome
+You should of known not roam through the danger zone
+In Harlem is where the thugs rest, in a slug fest
+We sendin' faggots all the way to heaven like Doug Fresh
+Big L grew up in the slums of greed
+Known for drawing guns with speed
+And selling tons of weed 'cause I got sons to feed
+And it's a must that my toast smokes
+I'm not like most folks
+Fuck 10's and 20's, I carry ghost notes
+And it's a must that I commence to slayin'
+Any faggot emcee who goes against the grain
+I'ma smoke Pataki ass and Rudolph Giuli like a wooly
+I keep a tooly for any mooly who act fooly
+So if a nigga disrespect L, to hell is where I'ma send him
+After I skin him and spit some venom in him
+I run with intruders, looters and sharp shooters
+Who spark buters and fuck thick bitches with large hooters
+Yo, I'm that nigga that be jumpin' on your stereo
+When I walk the streets, your bitches tappin' they friends like, "There he go"
+Never had rules to follow, none of my jewels are hollow
+Try to tax mines and you'll be on the news tomorrow
+'Cause I was never the type to start beefs
+But I spark creeps on dark streets and stop they heart beats
+To hell with silly games, I play survival sports
+Sometimes I be in the crib stressed the fuck out with suicidal thoughts
+All my life I've been a lady bruiser
+A wrong chooser, school refuser
+Drug abuser, born loser
+Clothes bummy, nose runny, it wasn't funny
+A little dummy who tried to kill his mother for insurance money
+Now  me and the devil are on the same team
+I'm a hit the mainstream with ill raps that's poison like gangrene
+I'm better than every rapper that you thought was raw
+Peace to all of my peoples out in Baltimore
+I'm not a coward, and frontin' on me, I won't allow it
+I'm high-powered, fuckin' freak bitches like Nadina Howard
+Front and get your belly torn, I keep a Peli on
+I'm fuckin' with Grey Poupon and Dom Pérignon
+On the ave with punk rocks, quick to give a chump knocks
+You ain't tough, the only thing you shootin' is jump shots
+My style is hard like strong lumber
+Cute chicks get the dick, ugly bitches get the wrong number
+[Outro]
+And that's how we doin' itEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+’95 Hot97 TF5 MC Show Freestyle[Big L]
+Ayo, spark up the Phillies my man and pass that Moet
+Big L representin' with the Presidential Rolly
+Y'all brothas know me, I step in parties with minks and fly links
+Givin' all the ladies eye winks as I buy drinks
+As soon as I pick up a mic and start flowin' the people yell
+I'm rugged as hell, brothas could tell, that none of ya rappers are rougher than L
+My rappin' skills was a great gift
+The other night some snake rift and got a hot lead face lift
+All through high school I had braids, kept mad blades
+Stabbin' teachers to death that gave me bad grades
+I cook the mic like a beefsteak
+Cause my technique's great /
+And I'm the brotha police hate in each state
+
+Yeah, that's a little somethin'. Now I'm a drop one mo' for my man T cause he up in here. Check it out, check it out yeah and ya don't stop, Big L represents, check it out
+
+Yo, I walk around with six thou', sippin' on Cris-tal
+My whole clique's foul
+I'm rich pal, no more sticks, I'm makin' hits now
+The type o' brother that be gamin' yo' freaks
+While you out workin' hard, I'm puttin' stains in yo' sheets
+And clown hearts, ya put a lot of fear
+L is the brotha you better not even try to scare
+Cause some hot lead will get you outta here
+While I'm rockin' tours you moppin' floors /
+And I always deal with kis and not the kind that be lockin' doors
+On one three nine and Lenox brothers are bananas
+We got bad manners, cops can't stand us, that's why they try to jam us
+But I hate jakes, they mad cause I make papes
+I'm larger than the Great Lakes with drug spots in eight states
+Used to be Little, now I'm double X
+Pushin' a bubble Lex', I got connects with foreigners who smuggle tecs
+I'm chillin', makin' sure this money is right
+Sippin' Sunny Delight, hittin' every honey in sight
+I'm the man with all the cream and clout
+Cash I'm never seen without, make the ladies scream and shout
+Big L is the brotha you dream about
+And every girl I got looks like a model
+If you ever see me with a chickenhead, she must a hit the lotto
+And Uptown is where L rest, I stay well dressed
+I write rhymes more than Jamaican niggas sell ses'
+Aight, little somethin', little somethin'. I can't hang with my man but I still represented. You know. Yeah, word upEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Flamboyant Pt. II(Verse 1:Royal Flush)
+Yo we gon explain something right now
+It's Royal Flush and Big L we gon let y'all know bout my niggas comin out
+Queens most my doggs ... right
+
+Yo check it
+A Yo the way I feel for these niggas, I die for niggas
+Queens most wanted cockin back and pull triggers
+From Lex to Viggers, drug dealers slash rap diggas
+From OB to QB my war rest in peace to bandit
+Take a chance to this game of life
+We bust of trife sold mad dick to your wife
+Jack D with no ice from south side to the desert
+We bustin pesserts and let my bitches hold my weapons
+I'm world wide like my first jam, understand, Royal Flush has takin over LB
+Fam
+
+(Verse 2:Big L)
+Yo it's Corleone and Queen's Most, we bust til your whole team ghost
+Everywhere we go, we must bring toast forever
+Popping the chrome, always dropping a poem
+I can write it or recite it off the top of the dome
+However you want it is how I'm gonna give it to you, Big L style
+They brought it back to the streets cause that shit sell now
+So pal back up a bit, give me elbow space
+I represent Harlem World, not Melrose Place
+So I'm a lace the jewels up with nice baguettes
+Flamboyent is the label that writes the checks
+Y'all niggas better stop fronting cause I might get vexed
+And I'm a run up on y'all and slice y'all necks
+With the machete, pockets heavy, slang more cane than Eddie
+I represent uno trece nueve
+Time is money so I stay late, I'm quick to slide a playmate
+Bust off like a tre-eight then vacate, uhEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+88 HipHop Radio Freestyle (1998)[Intro]
+I dunno how I'mma do this
+Check it, check it out, uh
+Check it out, check it, yo
+Check it
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Yo, while we hold gats you hold knives
+When you sold eighths, we sold pies
+When you rolled bites, we drove 5's
+There's no comparison, son, just embarrassin'
+I'm running with some of the baddest men in the whole New York
+We hold the fort, while you crab cats is holdin'
+Player hatin', pussy-stolen whips
+We at the dice game rollin' trips
+Out of town, throwin' bricks, takin' over
+Cooking up coke with baking soda
+I buy hot jewels and ice it down
+While you go to the jewelry store with short dough, tryin' to bring the prices down
+You better spread with them 30 dollar kicks on
+Or get ripped on, knocked out cold and pissed on
+L is a heavy weight, it was steady paper
+You the type to go to jail for a petty caper
+Then come home on good behavior
+Talkin' about "You no longer hard now, 'cause you a man of God now"
+Yo, it's amazin', L is blazin', always been
+Before I put the braids in, I used to let the waves spin
+What you be sayin' don't impress me at all
+And them chicks you be datin' don't be sexy at all
+Word life, everything that I recite stand out
+Go ahead and front, so I can try this right hand out
+I'll cross your jaw, L never lost a war
+No respect for them cowards who enforce the law
+You got somethin' to say? Cough it out
+Cause cats be wantin' beef, but when you pull out the heat, they ready to talk it out
+What is there to talk about? You was just frontin'
+Now it ain't nothin', ain't that somethin'?
+I should start busting anyway, and put one of you punks in the ground
+Y'all cats be killin' me with y'all faces round jumping around
+Like you scarin' L, not even, word
+Cause I'ma be a thug until I stop breathing
+Plus I'm runnin' with a smooth crew that'll shoot at you
+You wanna knuckle up?
+Then we can do that tooEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+If You Not AwareEy yo, what's up this is Big L, know what I'm sayin'
+Calling to see how that joint, know what I'm sayin', came out
+
+Hey yo fellas... Keep our eye open... watch out
+Cause females be playing a whole lot of games like these
+
+Aiyyo fellas, you gotta be careful today
+Watch out for games that these females play
+Cause some break the rules and some don't play fair
+You might get caught out there if you're not aware
+
+Aiyyo fellas, you gotta be careful today
+Watch out for games that these females play
+Cause some break the rules and some don't play fair
+You might get caught out there if you're not aware
+
+I know this lady by the name of Katie
+If you broke, she's shady
+You got cash? She's ready to have your baby
+The type of female the fellas stress
+Stay fresh to death, well dressed
+In Chanel, Guess, nothing less
+Body got more curves than an S
+I smoke her boots like Sess
+And I confess the sex was the best (yes)
+Within a week she had keys to my res
+And then later my man Squeezer gave her gees to invest
+Then one day I overheard her talking to friends
+Saying how she didn't like me, all she want is the ends
+Yo honey was sheisty
+Had me thinking she was wifey, tricking ridiculous
+Given her dues that was icey
+I said it's over
+And what I gave you, you can have that
+It wasn't even her - it was myself I was mad at
+Letting that dame use me for my name and my fame
+That's lame, but it's a shame how I fell for the game
+Aiyyo fellas, you gotta be careful today
+Watch out for games that these females play
+Cause some break the rules and some don't play fair
+You might get caught out there if you're not aware
+
+Aiyyo fellas, you gotta be careful today
+Watch out for games that these females play
+Cause some break the rules and some don't play fair
+You might get caught out there if you're not aware
+A year ago I did a show for some dough
+Puffed a bag of hydro then broke out on the low
+And on my way out, it was a female on my trail
+Who followed me from the stage to the Benz SL
+I asked honey her name, she replied, "Monique"
+Soft and sweet, from her head to feet, hotter than heat
+Jump in the passenger seat, let's go get somethin to eat
+She said I was that Roc-a-Fella she'd been dyin to meet
+I tried to hit it first night, she said she wasn't a freak
+Yeah right - it's all good, so I waited a week
+Then one night to my crib she decided to creep
+Knocked on a nigga door and woke me outta my sleep
+I let her in before you know it we was doin our thang
+I drove her home, and said tomorrow give me a ring
+It was about a month later when she gave me a call
+With some bogus ass story that was off the wall
+Claimin she's pregnant with my child, I think that's quite foul
+How is that? I wore a Lifestyle
+So watch out fellas... Watch out
+You better watch out fellas
+Yeah, you better watch out
+Watch out fellas... You better watch out
+F'real
+
+So watch out fellas... Watch out
+You better watch out fellas
+Yeah, you better watch out
+Watch out fellas... You better watch out
+F'realEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Give It To ’Em “L” (Original Mix)[Verse 1]
+I'm serious, I'm not the type to joke a lot
+Dressed in all black, never seen in polka dots
+No other write rhymes like these
+I'm cool as a light breeze
+Playin' rappers out like striped Lee's
+I'm smoother than velvet
+My rhymes are well writ
+You're sayin' L's this and L's that, get off L dick
+Battles I refuse to lose
+I choose to cruise smooth, like the blues
+I never hear boos cause I amuse
+Grab the brew and take a sip
+I stay lookin' dip, mics I rip
+Don't flip, we on the party tip
+But you better leave L alone
+Before I reach out and touch you, but not with a telephone
+I'm the brother that you never even thought of beatin'
+Black, white or Puerto Rican
+I'm gonna slaughter each and
+Every crab MC that runs up
+When a battle comes up, give me two thumbs up
+
+[Chorus]
+It's Big L, y'all, I'm living swell, y'all
+I do my thing, that's why my name ring bells, y'all
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em L
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em L
+It's Big L, y'all, I'm living swell, y'all
+I do my thing, that's why my name ring bells, y'all
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em L
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em L
+[Verse 2]
+I damage all opponents as soon as the bell ring
+It's all about me, yo it's a B-I-G-L thing
+The crown is still mine, I drop ill rhymes
+A lotta rappers talk that murder stuff and couldn't kill time
+And rockin' a crowd, I got it pat down
+While D-Wiz rip shop in the background
+Rhymes I make'll knock out your gold tooth
+Fightin' me is like fightin' a gorilla in a phone booth
+My style gets scarier
+Battles? The more the merrier
+You can't compare me ta, brothers from the area
+Or brothers from other states, because this brother makes
+Outstandin' lyrics that suffocates
+Brothers from New York to the Bahamas
+Rappers talkin' 'bout breakin' jaws when they couldn't break a promise
+The Big L's quick to make a chick lift her skirt up
+Step to this and get hurt up
+Word up
+
+[Chorus]
+It's Big L, y'all, I'm living swell, y'all
+I do my thing, that's why my name ring bells, y'all
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em L
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em L
+It's Big L, y'all, I'm living swell, y'all
+I do my thing, that's why my name ring bells, y'all
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em L
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em L
+[Verse 3]
+MCs get taught a lesson when the mic is in my po-ssession
+Rap's my pro-fession...no question
+It's a fact I stay geared
+It shouldn't be weird, that I'm feared
+Cause my raps are rougher than a nappy beard
+I cook rappers like a chef
+I'm def like Jeff
+Right to left, my raps are badder than mornin' breath
+Basin' in my face, I won't accept that
+You better step back, before your eye be jet black
+And suckers I'm a stiggedy star
+Breakin' 'em up and then takin' they heart
+You better believe that Big L is the man that be rippin' the microphones apart
+I hit hard from New York to Miami
+Pockets stay swolled up like a eye jammy
+I'm dropping science on wax while you kickin' riddles
+I'm a Big Mac, you and your whole crew are Chicken Littles
+To be safe on the microphone homes
+Recite your own poems
+Or get your dome flown
+MCs want no parts o' L
+As I rip shop with Hip-Hop, the crowd starts to yell
+
+[Chorus]
+It's Big L, y'all, I'm living swell, y'all
+I do my thing, that's why my name ring bells, y'all
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em L
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em L
+It's Big L, y'all, I'm living swell, y'all
+I do my thing, that's why my name ring bells, y'all
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em L
+Let 'em have it L, give it to 'em LEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Slaying The Mic[Intro: Big L]
+Yeah
+Check this shit out
+One, two, one two
+Check me the fuck out
+(One, two, one two,)
+Big L, Corleone
+(Yeah 139 Linux, Corleone)
+Chilling with my nigga Kay Slay from around the way
+Flamboyant Entertainment nigga
+Coming live, this is the danger zone
+(Harlem, USA dawg,)
+About to rip this shit
+Check us out, uh
+Check it out yeah
+(uh, uh, uh, uh,)
+Check it out yeah
+Flamboyant Entertainment
+(yeah, yeah, yeah,)
+Flamboyant Entertainment
+
+[Verse One: Big L]
+While we hold gats, you hold knives
+When you sold Eights, we sold pies
+When you rode bikes, we rode Five's
+There's no comparison son, it's just embarrassing
+I'm running with some of the baddest men in the whole New York
+We hold the fort, y'all bitch niggas is holding dicks
+Player hating, pushing stolen whips
+We at the dice game rolling tricks
+OT, throwing bricks, taking over
+Cooking up coke with baking soda
+Yeah
+You better spread with them thirty dollar kicks on
+Or get whipped on, knocked out cold and pissed on
+L is a heavy waiter, with steady paper
+You the type that go to jail for a petty caper
+Then come home on good behavior
+Talking about you no longer hard now cause you a man of God now
+Though it's amazing
+L is blazing
+Always been
+Before I put the braids in, I used to let the waves spin
+Shit you be saying, don't impress me at all
+And them chicks you be jaying, don't be sexy at all
+Word life
+Everything that I recite stands out
+Go ahead and front, so I can try this right hand out
+Across your jaw
+L never lost a war
+No respect for them faggots who enforce the law
+You got something to say? Cough it out
+Cause niggas be wanting beef, but when you pull out the heat
+They ready to talk it out
+What is there to talk about? You was just fronting
+Now it ain't nothing, ain't that something?
+I should start busting anyway and put one of you punks in the ground
+Y'all niggas be killing me with your face around
+Jumping around
+Like you scared of L
+Not even
+Cause imma be a thug 'till i stop breathing
+Plus I'm running with a smooth ass crew
+That will shoot at you
+You want to knuckle up? Then fuck it, we can do that too
+Nigga
+I never hesitate to buck my gun
+Harlem World, y'all know where the fuck I'm fromEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Fed Up Wit the Bullshit( VERSE 1 )
+Yo, on the scene is the brother that's big, I'm not a little kid
+I'm a nig who don't dig a muthafuckin pig
+Cause to me they ain't nothin but harassers
+That misuse they badges to whip niggas' asses
+Then one day they slow rolled through the hood
+With the .38s cocked, 2 deep, up to no good
+They say that my skin was black so they attacked
+Threw me on the back and stuck a gat to my fuckin cap
+One murdered my man like it was okay
+For the life he ended he got suspended with no pay
+But if a man woulda took the cop life, he woulda got life
+And never again see the street lights, and that's trife
+Around my way they shot many teens
+And them cops better stop, or I'ma stop em, by any means
+The Big L won't hesitate to cold diss em
+And if you ask me, muthafuck the whole system
+There are too many young black brothers doin life bids
+Cause justice means 'just us white kids'
+So take heed to the rhymes I kick
+I'm about to flip, cause I'm fed up with that bullshit
+
+I'm fed up with that bullshit (bullshit)
+I'm fed up with that bullshit (bullshit)
+I'm fed up with that bullshit (bullshit)
+I'm fed up (Aw, shit)
+( VERSE 2 )
+Whether it's the hot, warm, cool or cold season
+Pigs be fuckin with a nigga for no reason
+You're just gettin home from work
+And gotta get searched and treated like dirt by a fuckin jerk
+Niggas in the streets got tough luck
+First they get cuffed up
+Then get roughed up, and that's fucked up
+This every day, not every other week
+Listen when this brother speak
+Muthafuck turnin the other cheek
+Or you'll be layin in a pine box
+Bad enough they got .38s, now them clowns gettin nine Glocks
+I'm not only fed up with the cops
+I'm only fed up with them punk-ass cab drivers who don't stop
+They don't care if it's snowin
+First they slow down, then they see your skin is brown, then they keep goin
+Cause I wasn't white, the cab took flight
+But I caught him at the light
+And put a bullet right through his windpipe
+I keep a tool with a full clip, the trigger I pull quick
+Cause I'm fed up with that bullshitEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Flamboyant Pt. I[Intro: Big L]
+Yeah yeah, Big L, Corleone
+My nigga C-Town, my big brother Big Lee holding it down
+Flamboyant baby, for life
+We taking over, coming to a theater near you
+Check it out, come on check it
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Make sure my mic is loud and my production is tight
+Better watch me round your girl if you ain't fucking her right
+You damn playa haters never want to see me blow
+Flamboyant Entertainment CEO
+Yo the spotlight is mine, it ain't his no more
+When Lee come home, niggas can't live no more
+And ... I'm straight, keep a Harlem World mindstate
+I never lounge where you find Jake
+Suprise niggas like a blind date, L rhyme great
+And I'm a increase the crime rate for old time's sake
+Run with me and I'm a make you a star
+When me and my crew hit the clubs, we go straight to the bar
+Leave 'em empty, I cruise through Harlem in an M3
+Never pay for parties, say my name and I'm in free
+I'm on some 100-G car shit, superstar shit
+Selling niggas that wet shit right out the jar shit
+I'm dumb hot, I'll wreck you and your young flock
+Keep the gun cock, represent one block
+139 nigga, the Danger Zone
+We quick to put a bullet in a stranger's dome
+I'm known to kick a rough rhyme and rock much shine
+Yo I'm out, I done took up enough time
+We out, no doubt, you know how we do, Flamboyent for lifeEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+AuditionYo. 1, 2, 1, 2. G'ahead, drop it
+Yeah 1, 2, 1, 2. I go by the name of the Big L. Know what I'm saying?
+Rock this for Rock N. Wills. Hardpack tape
+A'ight. Goes like this
+
+Ay yo. I've got the gift of gab
+To lift and grab
+The mic and recite hype rhymes
+That'll rip and rag
+And drag a fag MC
+Who likes to nag a lot
+And brag a lot
+Talking about the lyrics that he has are hot
+Step to this and get lit like a candle, troop
+Rhymes I hook up
+MCs I cook up
+Like Campbell's soup
+I throw rhymes like a quarterback
+Front and you'll get bust
+And dust
+And crushed
+Bum rushed
+And all of that
+Rhymes never sound wack
+Cause I've got them down packed
+For you the time is over
+So give me your crown Jack
+I get hype fast
+And MCs might last
+A minute with me
+Because their rhymes are light as
+A feather and mine are heavy like a big brick
+Rappers catch a fit quick
+When I start to kick shit
+And I record my battles on a camcorder
+So I can sit back and watch me manslaughter
+MCs that tried to get with me, hops
+That's why they all got taken out like a pizza box
+The crown is still mine
+Cause I kick ill rhymes
+A lot of rappers talk that murder shit and couldn't kill time
+Or beat eggs or whip cream
+I'm smoother than Vaseline
+And I'm a stone cold rapping fiend
+A lot of new jacks are coming out, but that's cool
+Cause I'm the principal of the new school
+A'ight. Check this out another joint like this
+A'ight. Check it out
+I control the microphone like a robot
+My lyrics are so hot
+Props: I've got a whole lot
+Cause with a pen and some paper this man made
+Rhymes: they're so damn great
+With flavor like pancakes
+I'm kicking rhymes like a game of kickball
+I'm rough like a brick wall
+MCs take a big fall
+For trying to get with this
+I'm too swift for this
+A microphone murderer form of magnificence
+A def rapper and also a swell one
+In a battle I cook MCs well done
+My hits are consecutive
+I'm a lyrical executive
+Bite my rhymes and I won't let you live
+So to be safe on the microphone homes
+Recite your own po'ms
+Or get your dome blown
+Or put in a boot camp
+L's the new champ
+I'm not the kind to go out like a Food Stamp
+I'm throwing rhymes like a pitcher throws a curveball
+And I'm a serve all
+Punks that try to brawl
+So stop sleeping on me
+Don't even dose hops
+Or I'm a heat you up
+And eat you up
+Like Stove Top
+Stuffing
+I'm bum rushing
+Shorts: I'm taking none
+My rhymes weigh a ton
+I'm not faking son
+You're the one whose faking, trying to be a duplicate
+Can't kick stupid shit
+Tell you the truth: you should quit
+Rapping
+Start snappin
+Cause all you is a joke
+Battle L and get smoked
+Yo. I over throw ya
+And have you screaming like a rollercoaster
+Guzzle you down like a small cup of Coca Cola
+I'm going though MCs like a ransack
+Stand back
+As I cruise
+Smooth
+Like an Amtrack
+Your rhymes are rusty G
+You can't fuck with me
+That's why you're hiding in protective custody
+L's not the one an'
+I keep MCs runnin'
+I hurt them like bunions
+Make them cry like onions
+I'm a lyrical fighter
+And I'm brighter
+Than Einstein
+Try to bite my lines
+And get a size nine
+Foot
+Put
+In your ass for being a crook
+Hit with a vital hook
+And get your title took
+Pass it to my man
+(Someone else)
+Ha ha. ??? got flavour
+Keep that flowing
+(Big L)
+I'm the microphone murderer
+And I'm known for busting mad caps
+I rip and rag tracks
+With rhymes that back slap
+Causing a nightmare
+I dont fight fair
+Niggas playing hard rocks hoping they might scare
+The B-I-G L, but im not to be fucked with
+You're trying to take your idol's
+Title
+You're on some buck shit
+I keep the women fiending for my smooth shit
+My rhymes are mad thick
+And yours are dead as a poo stick
+Fuck it
+Bus it
+I like it rough and rugged
+Your style is wick wack
+And played out like Nugget
+Bracelets
+Face this
+You can't erase this
+Escape this
+Break this
+Take this
+Cook or bake this
+I get so loose
+On beats that I produce
+Niggas be fronting crazy hard and got no juice
+They're softer than paper plates
+The lyrics I make is great
+A few sheets of loose leaf
+And an eraser mate
+Is all I need to write rhymes that are extra fly
+Mics I wreck and fry
+Rappers I petrify
+Pack a four fifth with eight shots
+With one you get popped
+And now your locked in a box
+Dead with no props
+I'm not joking. There's no time for snapping
+Niggas that be yapping
+I'm putting caps in
+So base up and sprayed up
+From the waist up
+You'll be found face up
+Cops can't trace up
+Fingerprints. Why? Because I leave no evidence
+Big L's the name, 139 is the residence
+PeaceEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Rock N. Wills Audition[Intro: Big L]
+Yo one two, one two, go 'head, you can drop it
+
+Yeah one two one two, I go by the name of the Big L, ya know what I'm sayin'. Rock this with Rock N. Wills, the hardpack tape, aight it go like this
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Ayyo I got the gift o' gab
+To lift and grab
+The mic
+And recite hype rhymes
+That'll rip and rag
+And drag
+A fag MC
+Who likes to nag a lot
+And brag a lot
+Talkin' about the lyrics that he have are hot
+Step to this and get lit like a candle troop
+Rhymes I hook up, MCs I cook up
+Like Campbell's Soup
+I throw rhymes like a quarterback
+Front and you'll get bust and dust and crushed
+Bum rushed and all o' that
+Rhymes never sound wack
+Cause I got 'em down pat
+Your rulin' time is over
+So gimme your crown jack
+I get hype fast
+And MCs might last
+A minute with me
+Because their rhymes are light as
+A feather
+And mines are heavy like a big brick
+Rappers catch a fit quick
+When I start to kick shit
+And I record my battles on a camcorder
+So I can sit back and watch me manslaughter
+MCs that tried to get wit' me hops
+That's why they all got tooken out like a Bensi box
+The crown is still mine cause I kick ill rhymes
+A lotta rappers talk that murder shit and couldn't kill time
+Or beat eggs or whip cream
+I'm smoother than Vaseline
+And I'm a stone cold rappin' fiend
+A lot of new jacks are comin' out, but that's cool
+Cause I'm the principal of the new school
+Alright check this out, another joint like this…
+
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Yeah, aight, check it out…
+I control the microphone like a robot
+My lyrics are so hot, props I got a whole lot
+Cause wit' a pen and some paper this man makes
+Rhymes that're so damn great, with flavor like pancakes
+I'm kickin' rhymes like a game of kickball
+I'm rough like a brick wall, MCs take a big fall
+For tryin' to get with this, I'm too swift with this
+A microphone murderer full with magnificence
+A def rapper and also a swell one
+In a battle I cook MCs well done
+My hits are consecutive
+I'm a lyrical executive
+Bite my rhymes and I won't let you live
+So to be safe on the microphone homes
+Recite your own poems or get your dome flown
+Or put in a boot camp, L is the new champ
+I'm not the type to go out like a food stamp
+I'm throwin' rhymes like a pitcher throws a, curve ball
+And I'm a serve all punks that try to brawl
+So stop sleepin' on me, don't even doze hops
+Or I'm a heat you up and eat you up like Stove Top
+Stuffin', I'm bum rushin', shorts I'm takin' none
+My rhymes weigh a ton, I'm not fakin' son
+You're the one who's fakin', tryin' to be a duplicate
+Can't kick stupid shit, tell you the truth, you should quit
+Rappin', start snappin', cause all you is a joke
+Battle L and get smoked
+Yo I overthrow ya and have ya screamin' like a rollercoaster
+Guzzle you down like a small cup o' Coca-Cola
+I'm goin' through MCs like a ransack
+Stand back, as I cruise smooth like a Am-Trak
+Your rhymes are rusty g, you can't fuck with me
+That's why you're hidin' in protective custody
+L's not the one and I keep MCs runnin'
+I hurt 'em like bunions, make 'em cry like onions
+I'm a lyrical fighter and I'm brighter than Einstein
+Try to bite my lines and you'll get a size nine
+Foot put in your ass for bein' a crook
+Hit with a vital hook and get your title took
+[Big L]
+Yeah, I'm a pass it to my man
+
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+Yo I'm the microphone murderer
+And I'm known for bustin' mad caps
+I was in rag tracks with rhymes that backslap
+'causin' a nightmare, I don't fight fair
+Niggas playin' hard rock, hopin' they might scare
+The B-I-G-L but I'm not to be fucked wit'
+You're tryin' to take your idol's title?
+You on some bugged shit
+I keep the women fiendin' and screamin' for my smooth shit
+My rhymes are mad thick and yours is thin as a pool stick
+Fuck it, bust it, I like it rough and rugged
+Your style is wick wack and played out like nugget
+Bracelets, face this, you can't erase this, escape this
+Break this, take this, cause I bake this
+I get so loose on beats that I produce
+Niggas be frontin' crazy hard and got no juice
+They softer than paper plates, the lyrics I make is great
+A few sheets of loose leaf and a Erasermate
+Is all I need to write rhymes that are extra fly
+Mics I wreck and fry, rappers I petrify
+Pack a fo' fif' with eight shots
+With one you get popped
+And now you're locked in a box, dead, with no props
+I'm not jokin', there's no time for snappin'
+Niggas that be yappin', I'm puttin' caps in
+So base up or get sprayed up to the waist up
+You'll get found faced up, police can't trace up
+Fingerprints, why? Because I leave no evidence
+Big L's the name, one three nine is the residence, peaceEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+We Got This[Intro: Big L, Mr Cheeks]
+
+[Mr. Cheeks]
+All right, let's get it on
+We don't bring nothin' but the phat shit in New York type shit
+Know what I mean?
+
+[Big L]
+No doubt
+
+[George Murdock, as Fatman from The Mack]
+I've told you before... you're too big! You're getting too big! The word has come down, it's not healthy to get too big!
+
+[Big L]
+Yeah! Flamboyant Entertainment
+
+[Mr. Cheeks]
+Bringin' nothin' but the street themes
+
+[Big L]
+One-three-nine
+Don't get it twisted, the hood come first
+
+[Mr. Cheeks]
+Ayyo Big L, come on
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Check it!
+My whole clique's theavin'
+We roam the streets, cause it's stick season
+This ain't the time to have your wrist freezin'
+I might put the big gat to your six-pack
+Click-clack, let me get that
+Make it quick black, skip the chit-chat
+I'm takin' it all, I'm not leavin' a cent
+Want everything out your pockets coward, even the lint
+You better not budge when I point the semi at you
+What's that, a carat in your ear? Then give me that, too!
+I'm like Death, you never know when I might pop up
+In your hood and let the Glock buck and shoot your block up
+Go ahead, call the cops, and I'll tear the cops up
+Cause I don't give a hot fuck if I get locked up
+Ya'll know nothin' about L, so don't doubt L
+What's this motherfuckin' rap game without L?
+That's like jewels without ice, that's like China without rice
+Or the Holy Bible without Christ, or the Bulls without Mike
+Or crackheads without pipes
+The village without dykes or hockey games without fights
+I never hesitate to buck my gun
+One-three-nine, ya'll know where the fuck I'm from
+
+[Hook: Mr. Cheeks]
+Ayyo, hittin' niggas with the real rap, remedy
+Remember the real niggas from the NY
+Me and my men high
+Stay with cash, bring nothin' but the hotness
+Ya'll niggas chill kid, we got this
+Hittin' niggas with the remedy
+Remember the real niggas from the NY
+Me and my men high
+Count the chedda, bring nothin' but the hotness
+Ya'll niggas chill kid, we got this
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Yo, I'ma real wolf
+That's why you always see my face in the hood
+Others is phony, so they ain't safe in the hood
+I'm from where the real hustlers pile dough
+The home of rich Rich Porter, AZ, Alpo
+Where they shoot dice and puff wild dro and talk fly
+Throwin' game at every chickenhead bitch that walk by
+That's how we live, everyday, all day
+From one-one-o' to one-five-five, from first Ave. to Broadway
+Harlem's soft? That's what they all say
+Until they get murdered in broad day in a project hallway
+You get cash, you get it your way
+I get mines the fast and sure way: ski-mask and four-four way
+Take some wolf to your crib and kick down your doorway
+Go to the Hill, stick a aww yay for a brick of raw weigh
+I'm like Gotti to him, I throw the shotty to him
+Niggas don't want it with L, they be like: Anybody but him!
+
+[Hook: Mr. Cheeks]
+Ayyo, hittin' niggas with the real rap, remedy
+Remember the real niggas from the NY
+Me and my men high
+Stay with cash, bring nothin' but the hotness
+Ya'll niggas chill kid, we got this
+Hittin’ niggas with the remedy
+Remember the real niggas from the NY
+Me and my men high
+Count the chedda, bring nothin' but the hotness
+Ya'll niggas chill kid, we got this
+[Outro: Big L, Mr. Cheeks]
+
+[Mr. Cheeks]
+We got this shit on lock
+You know me, I be up on Big L's block
+
+[Big L]
+One-three-to-the-nine, kid
+
+[Mr. Cheeks]
+We be hangin' with my niggas
+Every day I want the ex-po
+Yo, do a show Uptown, Boogie Down
+
+[Big L]
+Comin' straight from the streets
+
+[Mr. Cheeks]
+Back to Queens, be the same routines
+
+[Big L]
+Corleone and Mr. Cheeks
+
+[Mr. Cheeks]
+Hold the fort
+These niggas thought
+We ain't comin'?
+
+[Big L]
+Yeah, Flamboyant
+
+[Mr. Cheeks]
+Representin' the Boogie Down
+Man, tell me somethin'
+
+[Big L]
+Yeah, Flamboyant
+
+[Mr. Cheeks]
+We be comin' through
+What you see? What!
+
+[Big L]
+Uh, Flamboyant, ya'll
+
+[Mr. Cheeks]
+Somethin' in the rear?
+Yo we up in here!
+
+[Big L]
+Yeah, uhh, no doubt! Ha-ha!EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Back Up Off Me (Original)[Verse 1: N.O.T.S]
+Don't cross that line keep it in ya boundaries
+You frucker I'm like Bounty the quick to pick her up her
+A bottle full of liquor that shit I can't get enough of
+Don't let it happen again I understand much love
+Next time Mark Ferman won't even find my gloves
+Now you know better don't even wanna hold the grudge
+Was it worth it? You found out too late I was the wrong person
+Who ate while everybody was snatchin purses
+You bait, cause every time I see you you nervous
+You defeated your purpose now you seeing its worthless
+I gotta aks myself what the fruck I was doin'
+And I gotta aks myself who the fruck you was screwin'
+I'm ready for anything, off the top of the head
+I say anything, and I'mma get mines any means
+I'm in the cream I'm in the weed
+I'm in the position to take over
+I know y'all cowards will leave
+And if I get cut I know y'all cowards will bleed
+Every second every minute every hour it's cheese
+A bloody mess that's what I'mma leave what you expect?
+The hungriest has gotta eat, and that's N-O-T-S
+Complimentary ain't nothin for free a lot of men worry
+Baggy jeans NOTS search tensery
+My nigga L told me that a lot of men bury
+And when we go to court we not on trial we jury
+[Hook x2: N.O.T.S. Click]
+Back up off me baby let me see where it is
+A one way ticket to nowhere with nothing to blow here
+I want it all nigga from the chain to the money
+If it's something here that you want
+Then it's something here to die for
+
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Put the mic down and fight now
+That's up to you, I got no love for you or that counterfeit clown you with
+I might let this this four pound spit and leave your crown split
+Fuck you and fuck who you down with
+Yo, I clap at you then clap at you gang with accurate aim
+Blow off more than half of your brain for actin insane
+You whack in this game I can see me now macking ya dame
+Snappin' ya pockets and snatchin' ya chains
+Shit I roll with cats that will attack in the rain
+Be in the Benz or in the back of the train
+Or the city bus, crones be hideous no-one I really trust
+They call me Willie Hudge the way I mack these silly sluts
+And right now I'm on top of the world
+So when you see me comin through put a lock on ya girl
+What
+
+[Hook x2]
+[Verse 3: ?Leg?]
+Everything is clear, I can see now, no longer seem now
+Together we explode is lethal, we get stronger than re-clouds
+And it's allergic I think I send niggas to turgis
+We round up when it's urgin, four pound up and lurkin'
+Big your whole town up in hearses
+And it'll stay with you for like a thousand curses
+All I want is more cream all I want is more weed
+All I want is your cheese so we can throw the hands
+Or we can show the cans but you still no man
+I fear no man there's no chance
+Just be ready for that last slow dance
+Many come many run many gun
+But there's no warrant to city run
+Under the city son I pity none
+And I still knock down these hoes until I'm 51
+Mom said: Leg you don't care about anyone
+And on the scale of 1 to 10 she gave prrrt cause I'm a shitty son
+
+[Hook x2]EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+I Don’t Understand It (Demo Version)[Big L]
+There are too many MCs who are overrated
+You ask me, they wasn't even supposed to make it
+In the rap biz, they don't know what rap is
+So give it up, become an actor or a actress
+Or a producer, ‘cause you fail to use the
+Microphone right, so take flight before I bruise ya
+For sayin’ them bull crap whack raps on wax
+You need to get smacked, sit back and rip that contract
+I'm serious as cancer, I'm not playin’ games
+I should get foul and buckwild and start sayin’ names
+But deep down inside
+You know who you are
+Your rhymes are not up to par, you fake superstar
+And that really gets on my nerve
+When a rapper gets the credit that he don't deserve
+Goin’ platinum and don't have no soul
+Some rappers are mad nice and don't even go gold
+I don't like the way it's goin’ down
+Because it should be the other way around
+I don't understand it
+
+MCs, what's goin on?
+I can't understand, man, how rappers col’ transform
+One minute you're hardcore and raw
+And that's what you was known for, but not
+No more
+You changed and rearranged
+You're not the same, your raps are plain
+And that explains why you lost your fame
+Used to be on top, but you fell like rain drops
+You turned pop, now you no longer gain props
+Who fault is that? Nobody's but your own, black
+Used to make dope tracks, jack, but now you're stone whack
+So MCs, don't ever step out your range
+Remain the same and only change with the time
+Unless you get dropped like a dime
+Yo, go for yours like I'm goin for mine
+But if you're rough, stay rough, if you're dapper, stay dapper
+And never try
+To look or even sound like another rapper
+Just fulfill your own needs
+Some rappers wore gold chains but now they're wearin' beads?
+I don't understand it
+On the lyrical side, this is how it should be done
+I'm not the one, my raps are stronger than rum
+But some, MCs grab the mic and sound dumb
+Plus slum, how come? Rap skills, they have none
+And I wonder how the hell they get record sales
+They raps are stale and frail
+And forced like fairy tales
+Your technique and everything you speak is weak
+Got a little airplay because of your beats
+Your fame and your name, but your lyrics are lame, jack
+Step to this and get ran over like train tracks
+Your raps are poor and whack and you went on tour with that
+Crap, don't understand it, ‘cause rhyme skills you lack
+I got more soul than Nike Airs, givin’ MCs nightmares
+Rappers be frontin’ hard and rhymes they don't write theirs
+But they still call themselves MCs?
+Please, how could that be?
+I don't understand itEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Put It On (97' Live at the Subterranea in London)[Intro: Big L, O.C.]
+Uh! Uh! Uh! Yeah, yeah!
+Now everybody bounce, come on bounce!
+Everybody bounce, come on bounce!
+Everybody bounce, come on bounce!
+Come on, bounce! Check it out
+Now pump your fist! Pump your fist like this! C'mon!
+Pump your fist! Pump your fist like this! C'mon! C'mon!
+Pump your fist! Pump your fist like this! Check it out!
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Ayo, you better flee hops
+Or get your head flown three blocks
+L keep rappers' hearts pumpin' like Reeboks
+Every year I gain clout and my name sprouts
+Some niggas 'd still be virgins if crack never came out
+I got the wild style, always been a foul child
+My guns go boom boom, and yo' guns go pow pow
+I'm known to have a hotty open, I keep the shotty smokin'
+Front and get half the bones in your body broken
+When it comes to gettin' nookie, not a rookie
+Got girls that make that bitch Toni Braxton look like Whoopi
+I run with sturdy cliques, I'm never hittin' dirty chicks
+Got thirty five bodies nigga, don't make it thirty six
+Step to this you're good as gone, everybody in the house
+Come along, sing it on, come on!
+[Hook: Kid Capri, Big L, O.C.]
+So put it on Big L, put it on
+C'mon put it on and on and on
+C'mon put it on Big L, put it on
+C'mon put it on, represent, put it on c'mon!
+
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Nobody can take nothin' from Big L but a loss chief
+The last punk who fronted got a mouth full of false teeth
+Known to gas a hotty, blast a shotty
+Got more cash than Gotti
+You don't know? You better ask somebody
+Big L is a crazy brother and I'm a lady lover
+A smooth kid that'll run up in your baby mother
+I push a slick Benz; known to hit skins /
+Get ends and commit sins with sick friends
+Cause I'm a money getter, also a honey hitter
+You think you nice as me? Haha, you's a funny nigga
+I flows, so one of my shows, wouldn't be clever to miss
+I'm leavin competitors pissed
+To tell you the truth, it gets no better than this
+I'm catchin' wreck to the break of dawn /
+Everybody in the house sing along, come on!
+
+[Hook: Kid Capri, Big L, O.C.]
+Yeah, so put it on Big L, put it on
+C'mon put it on, big fella put it on and on
+Put it on Big L, put it on
+Represent and put it on, c'mon put it on…
+[Adlib: Big L]
+One more time, throw your hands up
+Uh, throw your hands up, everybody
+Change the verse, check it out
+
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+I keep the Teflon vest on, tattoo on my left arm
+L the next don, wild like a ex-con
+My life revolve around stars and hoes
+Ridiculous icy jewels, crazy cars and clothes
+Don't forget phat houses
+I love the way this track bounces
+Word, L fuck with kis, you fuck with half ounces
+I want money like Trump got
+I'm too lazy to work and never had a jump shot
+So I got bricks from José, I sip rozay
+This dick is not free anymore, I make them hoes pay
+Bitches love us, cause we stay laced
+When we rock, you should see they face
+I motivate crowds like DJ Ace /
+And I push a six with VA plates
+Runnin' shit like a relay race
+
+[Hook: Kid Capri]
+So put it on Big L, put it on
+C'mon put it on, big fella put it on and on
+Big L, you gotta put it on and on
+Put it on Big L, put it on and on
+[Adlib: Big L]
+A'yo, we came straight from NYC
+All the way across seas for y'all
+Sore throat and everything
+And we still gon' put it on
+
+[Shout Outs: Big L, (Kid Capri)]
+A'yo Lord Finesse
+(he be puttin' it on.)
+My man Buckwild
+(he be puttin' it on and on.)
+My man Fat Joe
+(he be puttin' it on.)
+My man O.C
+(yeah they be puttin' it on and on.)
+My Man Ogee
+(he be puttin' it on.)
+My man Mr Dave
+(yeah they be puttin' it on and on.)
+All my peoples in London
+(yeah I be puttin' it on.)
+Of course Big L
+(yeah we be puttin' it on and on…)
+
+[Outro: Big L]
+And I'm out…EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+We Got This [Alternative Lyrics][Verse 1: Big L]
+I'm comin through ya'll, with the Glock buckin'
+Your whole block duckin'
+Every bitch that I'm fuckin' with now is cock suckin'
+It's like I'm allergic to not fuckin'
+Ya'll niggas is faggots like Rock Hudson
+And Boy George
+I destroy frauds with one verse
+Nigga, we can knuckle up or we can let the guns burst
+L is the type to murder your sons first
+To get my point across
+Since ya'll wanna chitty-chat with the coppers, ya'll might as well join the force
+Where I'm from, believe me, snitches get killed
+Niggas be hustlin' daily, tryin' to fuck more bitches than Wilt
+Takin' pictures in silk, gator'd up
+Passport dated up, hair braided up
+I fucked your bitch, but I ain't rape the slut, she gave it up
+I'm runnin' wit' Cheeks, he runnin wit' me
+We runnin' together
+We get drunk and blunted together, but don't front
+The guns is under the leather
+Ready to ill, ready to kill, ready to peel
+Steppin' to Corle, you betta be real
+Cause none of my niggas be lettin' me chill
+My crew be deliverin' hot lead, when gats are clenched
+Rappers I jack and lynch
+Nobody can fuck with the way I been killin' up shit at rap events
+It's like as soon as I pick up a mic and start flowin' the people yell
+I'm rugged as hell, brothas can tell
+That none of you niggas is fuckin' wit' L
+When I'm that nigga you expect to catch wreck on any cassette deck
+I'm so ahead of my time my parent's haven't met yet
+[Hook: Mr. Cheeks]
+Hittin' niggas with the real rap, remedy
+Remember the real niggas from the NY
+Me and my men high
+Stay with cash, bring nothin' but the hotness
+Ya'll niggas chill kid, we got this
+Hittin' niggas with the remedy
+Remember the real niggas from the NY
+
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Yo, where I'm from, dudes get sliced
+Cause crews is trife
+And you might loose your life for your jewels and ice
+I'ma slide to the 'tely and abuse your wife
+If I got one rubber, I'ma use it twice
+I give young fools advice about the rules of heist
+When I rock gators, hoes be like "Them shoes is nice!"
+Dimes I'm willin' to hit, I stay drillin' a chick
+They all know I ain't shit, but they still on my dick
+And I never walk the streets without the vest and the chrome
+Cause all my jewels be Rocky like Sylvester Stallone
+I'll blast the TEC at your dome and leave you restin' alone
+Go home and puff a fat bag of ses' 'til I'm gone
+You got this nigga frontin' like he the main event
+When his album ain't even last long, it came and went
+I'm like Gotti to him, I throw the shotty to him
+Niggas don't want it wit' L
+They be like "Anybody but him!"
+[Hook]
+
+[Outro]
+We got this shit on lock
+You know me, I be up on Big L's block
+One-three-to the nine, kid
+We be hangin with my niggas
+Every day I want the ex-po
+Yo, do a show Uptown, Boogie Down
+Back to Queens, be the same roEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+EZ Elpee Uptown Freestyle[Intro: Big L]
+Awww, yeah!
+Yo, check it out. On the M-I-C, right about now is the B-I-G, period, capital L in effect! Word
+And on the wheels o' steels, it's no other than, the EZ Elpee. Word
+
+I wann' give a shout out to the whole one three nine crew
+Herb McGruff, he's in the house, word up
+Who else, who else? Lemme see... My man Antwon, he's in the house. Word up
+Ayo, I can't forget D-Wiz, he's in the house. Word up
+Who else? Ayo, uh, Tommy Rine, he's in the house, everybody in the house
+
+But check it out, it go like this...
+
+[Verse: Big L]
+Yo it's the L and you can tell by my style and my light voice
+You dig that I'm the youngest in charge, that's the right choice
+I'm a MC that should be left alone, I'm bad to the bone
+Flippin' and whippin' a rip and own the microphone
+And taking me out, you know that's dead
+Cause I got the rap biz sewed up like thread
+In the rap game, I'm numero uno
+Far from little, I'm bigger than a sumo
+And rappers that pop shit, the Big L drop quick
+I'm breaking niggas in half like a chopstick
+Don't ever step to this, "Why, L?"
+Cause I'm the foul type
+Throw up your hands and get floored with a wild right
+I'm getting rid of emcees without a tussle, I don't hustle
+And still pull bitches like a muscle
+I'm smoother than velvet, my lyrics are well writ
+You sayin' L's this and L's that, get off L's dick
+I'm the toughest and roughest in the industry
+Over the years my rap skills improved tremendously
+Rhymes I recite, on the mic
+Take flight, like a gear bike
+Me get tooken out? Yeah right
+Duck emcees at the mouth, they be poppin off
+Talkin' about steppin' to the L, they need to knock it off
+And slow the fuck down, before they get bucked down
+I'm rolling with my strong crew, straight outta Uptown
+When I'm in a rappin' mood, I grab the mic and get rude
+Me gettin' booed? What the fuck, is you food?
+You must be, or you're just plain dusty
+Smoking PCP now you think you can crush me
+But you'll get slayed, and get played, like ping pong
+And I'll stomp that ass out flat, like i was King Kong
+Rappers I ran past, but still many men ask
+Cause I be gettin' loose, like a ho in a dance class
+Raps are deadly and dangerous plus raw
+Some rappers get props, but the L gets much more
+Your rhymes are lightweight, mine's a heavy set
+You're try'na get ill, you better chill cause you ain't ready yet
+In rap battles I make rappers say "I quit"
+I drop metaphors, punchlines, all that fly shit
+My heads you couldn't fly, diss me, you wouldn't try
+I boast and brag a lot, but why shouldn't I?
+Rappers that be basin, I'm wastin', without hesitation
+Lyrics are so ill I had to put 'em on medication
+Brothers be amazed, for days
+The way L flow
+Can other emcees fuck around? Hell no
+Rhymes are extra ill, come on and test the skills
+And you'll be the next fool who I'm next to kill
+Believe me Chief, you don't want no trouble son
+Try to call my bluff and you'll be calling nine double one
+Emcees that act rude get chewed like Chattanooga
+Quote what I wrote and get smoked like a bag of buddha
+I never wear saggin' clothes, L be baggin' hoes
+Bo Knows that I flows, and I'm draggin' those
+Emcees that try to compete
+Stop bein' cheap and spend ya papes and buy this dope ass tape
+[Outro: Big L]
+It's like that y'all and ya don't stop
+The Big L gonna make your body rock
+Peace, I'm out. Word up
+
+Yeah. Word up, I'm comin' out soon
+You can catch me on a Lord Finesse twelve inch, on the flipside. You know what I'm sayin'?
+Return of the Funkyman album, droppin', it's gonn' be hot. You know what time it isEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Return Of The Devil’s Son (Freestyle)[Intro: Big L, Nas, Both]
+Throw that shit on, ooh-ooh
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus (Uh, uh)
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus (Uh, uh)
+I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns (Yeah, yeah)
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus (Yeah uh, uh, uh)
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus (Check it out now, and check it out now)
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus (And turn the mic up)
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus (Yo, ooh-ooh)
+I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns
+Wait, rewind it back
+I like how that went down
+Rewind that shit one more time, fuck that, let's go, one more time
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus
+I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns (Uh)
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus (Uh, yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah)
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus (Uh)
+When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus (I'll explain the story, check it out)
+I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns
+
+[Verse: Big L & Nas]
+Ayo, 5/3-0/7-4
+A little bro was born with the mind of a psycho
+They first knew I was a crazy nigga
+When my mother came home and found out I killed the
+Baby-sitter
+I did more crime in due time
+Started my life of crime
+About nine going out for mine
+I made every little kid from my hood run
+I was just like that little bastard from The Good Son
+And my mind was past bummed
+Dropped the blow-dryer in the water while my moms was in the
+Bathtub
+Then I just saluted as she electrocuted
+They got booted, 'cause that's another I executed
+I was a child runnin' wild like a goose chase
+Punish my dad, I put poison in his toothpaste
+Then I pick my aunt or sister up, gave her a quick spank
+Then dropped the little bitch in a fish tank
+I invited company, murdered the four guests
+Put a cap in each whore chest and ate their raw flesh
+I tell the truth I ain't lyin' man (When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus)
+And right now I got my cousin Brian' hand in a fryin' pan (When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus)
+YeahEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Accapella 1 (Platinum Plus)[Big L]
+I'm straight loco, to hell with you and your broke ho
+You ain't a big dog, you more like Toto, you got no dough
+I smoke dro mixed with cocoa, strong as Bolo
+I pack a fo'-fo', platinum Ro'-Ro'
+Anti-homo, that's a no-no, so fuck po'-po'
+I push the 740 and not the Volvo
+C-Town push the six-oh-oh, I'm with a bitch or I'm dolo
+Chips from here to Acapulco
+While y'all buck for legs, I buck for heads
+I even buck celebs, nigga, fuck the fedsEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+’97 Live In London FreestyleWe gonn' build like construction
+Real hot production
+No playa hatin'
+Just congratulatin'
+Open your eyes
+It's no surprise
+Word up
+Harlem World is on the rise
+My phone number's anonymous
+I get stacks and chickenheads can't get a dime of this
+Front on me you must go
+I just flow
+Puff 'dro
+It's all about the gusto
+L lust dough
+All you playa hatas stand up
+Ya'll just blow
+I stay freakin' off with a handcuffed ho
+If niggas wanna know
+Do L rock raw?
+Do a pimp got whores?
+Do Big L got balls?
+I'm in charge of all
+I just threw a party at the Taj Mahal
+Cause The Mirage was small
+Split heads like the Red Sea
+Peep the Craig G
+Chicks be on me like the feds be
+And I never pay to sex, B
+You can handle L? Let's see
+I'm a bust in your mouth, fill up your grill like Gillespie
+This chick Desti
+Looks sexy in the Lex-y
+Half black, half Mexi'
+Complexion Nestle
+Thighs gigantic
+Big enough to make a guy panic
+A few drinks and she go down like the Titanic
+Aight?EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Roc Raida Mixtape[Big L]
+You never know what my peeps might do
+To creeps like you, cause when we roll we be deep like Wu
+And I'm fast to grab a mic and drop a quick 16
+On the real my shit is hotter then that bitch Christene
+My click gets cream, heavy from New York to Spain
+Talk with slang, pimp cats who walk with cains
+Clown niggas you ain't got a chance at all
+Cause Big L, Corleone is to advanced for y'all
+And I be makin' major moves all across the world
+So please don't be upset if I toss your girl
+Eh yo I meet a chick, I give her sex then I leave her
+So much ice on my chain, it's like my necks in a freezer
+
+What, Flamboyant .. for lifeEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Accapella 2 (Fall Back)Ayo, I heard your single, you better make a whole new song
+If they said that shit is hot then they told you wrong
+Clown niggas, you ain't got a chance at all
+Big L Corleone too advanced for y'all
+I make moves and boss all across the world
+So don't be upset if I toss your girl
+I got cheddar to blow, pockets never get low
+Bitches sweat me wherever I go
+I cruise in a GS Lex', Cartier specs
+Nautica sweats with the fresh Gortex
+Jewels with baguettes, swingin like the Mets
+Throwin' the dice and takin' all side bets
+Never bummy; sip rummy, get money
+When I hit honey, she felt the dick in her tummy
+On the le-low I see dough from here to Rio
+Flamboyant Records, C to the E-O - what?EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Who You Slidin’ Wit’ (Buckwild Mix)[Intro: Big L]
+Yo what's the deal, miss?
+I'm sayin', let me know somethin' right now
+I mean, we've been dancin' all night
+I been buyin' you drinks all night and shit
+You goin' home wit a nigga or what?
+Tell me somethin'
+
+[Hook: Big L]
+Uhh!
+What up miss, who you hidin' wit?
+Who you slidin' wit?
+Who you ridin' wit?
+We can jump in the SL
+Rent a room at the best 'tel
+I make it last cause I sex well
+What up miss, who you hidin' wit?
+Who you slidin' wit?
+Who you ridin' wit?
+We can jump in the SL
+Rent a room at the best 'tel
+I make it last cause I sex well
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Hen', Rock an' Alize, I get drunk off
+What up miss? Get wit a real man and cut that punk off
+Everythin' gonna be all right
+I been watchin' you watch me all night
+I asked honey her name, and she told me: Celeste
+She had big breasts, honey had me harder than a Spanish test
+We on the dance floor, gettin' our boogie on
+I see the hatas watchin' me wit they hoodies on
+Tryin' to peep the ice under the sleeve, I'm like: It's time to breeze
+Told honey: Let's leave
+Took her to M&G's, got some eggs & cheese
+Grits, fish cakes, and orange juice, freshly squeezed
+When she finished her meal, I said: What's the deal?
+For real, you goin' home, or you tryin' to chill?
+She got close, whispered somethin' slow in my ear
+And it ain't hard to tell where we goin' from here
+Yeah!
+[Hook: Big L]
+Uhh!
+What up miss, who you hidin' wit?
+Who you slidin' wit?
+Who you ridin' wit?
+We can jump in the SL
+Rent a room at the best 'tel
+I make it last cause I sex well
+What up miss, who you hidin' wit?
+Who you slidin' wit?
+Who you ridin' wit?
+We can jump in the SL
+Rent a room at the best 'tel
+I make it last cause I sex well
+
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+If your game rusty, around your dame never trust me
+Cause soon as you blink I'ma slide her off and bust three
+And I only lay pipe to dimes
+A lotta niggas I know are takin' care of kids that might be mine
+I love to go low, I'm freaky like that
+I never get caught creepin' cause I'm sneaky like that Uhh!
+It ain't my fault your girl be ho hoppin'
+And matter fact, the last time you gave her loot to go shoppin'
+Honey picked me up some dope shirts
+It's because of me why she's walkin' crooked and her throat hurts
+I hate to wait cause I'm not on a patient tip
+Just hit me off, we don't need a relationship
+And when you mention my name, it ring a bell
+Ask any female, nobody do it like L
+I met this chick Rhonda, who pushed the black Honda
+Took her to the crib and bombed her with this big brown anaconda
+[Hook: Big L]
+Uhh!
+What up miss, who you hidin' wit?
+Who you slidin' wit?
+Who you ridin' wit?
+We can jump in the SL
+Rent a room at the best 'tel
+I make it last cause I sex well
+What up miss, who you hidin' wit?
+Who you slidin' wit?
+Who you ridin' wit?
+We can jump in the SL
+Rent a room at the best 'tel
+I make it last cause I sex well
+
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+Ayo I'm ready to get my flirt on
+Want honey wit' the skirt on
+She got knees that I would love to put some dirt on
+I feel ya
+I can't wait to get familiar
+Leave wit' me, will ya? Tell me what's the deal, huh?
+“I'm hidin' wit'chu, I'm slidin' wit'chu
+I ain't catchin' a train, so I'm ridin' wit'chu
+Just make the first move and I'ma follow ya lead
+I can't wait to break you off some and swallow your seed
+And I'm not jokin', Corleone you got me open
+Whenever you around, I can't quit scopin'
+And you the type of cat that have a bitch loc'in'
+Heart broken
+Stressed out and smokin'
+I can't front Playboy, you be rammin' it right
+Even though I got a husband, you my man for the night
+I've been watchin' you
+Got the hots for you
+Yo, I'll fuck around and leave my baby pops for you
+'cause I, love the way that you crash these walls
+All you need is me, fuck these other nasty whores
+And uh, whenever you want it, this ass is yours
+You can slam dunk this pussy like basketballs.” (I hear dat...)
+[Hook: Big L]
+Uhh!
+What up miss, who you hidin' wit?
+Who you slidin' wit?
+Who you ridin' wit?
+We can jump in the SL
+Rent a room at the best 'tel
+I make it last cause I sex well
+What up miss, who you hidin' wit?
+Who you slidin' wit?
+Who you ridin' wit?
+We can jump in the SL
+Rent a room at the best 'tel
+I make it last cause I sex well
+
+[Outro: Big L]
+Uhh.. Flamboyant Entertainment
+NFL.. one-three-nine, Lenox Ave
+Harlem shit, uhh
+That's how we do, yeah..EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Ebonics RemixYo, pay attention
+And listen real closely how I break this slang shit down
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Check it, my weed smoke is my lye
+A ki of coke is a pie
+When I'm lifted, I'm high
+With new clothes on, I'm fly
+Cars is whips and sneakers is kicks
+Money is chips, movies is flicks
+Also, cribs is homes, jacks is pay phones
+Cocaine is nose candy, cigarettes is bones
+A radio is a box, a razor blade is a ox
+Fat diamonds is rocks and jakes is cops
+And if you got rubbed, you got stuck
+You got shot, you got bucked
+And if you got double-crossed, you got fucked
+Your bankroll is your poke, a choke hold is a yoke
+A kite is a note, a con is a okey doke
+And if you got punched that mean you got snuffed
+To clean is to buff, a bull scare is a strong bluff
+I know you like the way I'm freakin' it
+I talk with slang and I'ma never stop speakin' it
+
+[Hook] {X2}
+"Speak with criminal slang" -Nas
+That's just the way that I talk, yo
+"Vocabulary spills, I'm ill" -Nas
+Remix Rex dawg, uh
+
+[Verse 2: T-Rex]
+Check it
+Your bank account is your funds
+A bunch of singles is ones
+Pussy is buns, toaks is your gun
+Your smoke box is your lungs and your doge is your son
+Spitting is rhyming, the bing is the island
+Bling bling is diamonds
+Stumped out is wylin'
+Acting silly is childish
+Beef is busting your man
+Masterbations fucking your hand
+The plot is a gun and a plan
+Relationship is a one-night stand
+Snitching is singing
+Fighting is banging, chilling is hanging
+My evil maintain it, from one crew to the next they're muturating
+The double is Satan, bleeding is payin'
+If you fly then you're stakin', a hoopties a Lincoln
+If you frontin' you faking, cops is bacon
+Pussy is drinking, cock-blocking is hating
+You can't forget if you fall then you're fainting
+OBT is the duds, DT's is cops
+Rest in peace TO Big L, man your soul never rot
+OGT
+[Hook] {X2}
+
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+The iron horse is the train and champaign is bubbly
+A deuce is a honey that's ugly
+If your girl is fine, she's a dime
+A suit is a fine, jewelry is shine
+If you in love, that mean you blind
+Genuine is real, a face card is a hundred dollar bill
+A very hard, long stare is a grill
+If you sneakin' to go see a girl, that mean you creepin'
+Smilin' is cheesin', bleedin' is leakin'
+Beggin is bummin, if you nuttin you comin
+Takin' orders is sunnin', an ounce of coke is a onion
+A hotel's a telly, a cell phone's a celly
+Jealous is jelly, your food box is your belly
+To guerrilla mean to use physical force
+You took a L, you took a loss
+To show off mean floss, uh
+I know you like the way I'm freakin' it
+I talk with slang and I'ma never stop speakin' it
+
+[Hook] {X3}EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Keep It Ghetto (Freestyle)[Intro: Big L]
+Big L, Harlem's finest
+Yeah, the nigga who hold it down for uptown
+Who gets down for the count
+To drop something
+
+[Verse: Big L]
+I keep a stash full of cash, puffing grass with a dash of some hash
+Jeans be sagging off half of my ass
+I keep it ghetto, still, I’m a fly fellow
+I love the cuties, no matter if they dark-skin or high yellow
+My iceberg sweaters and leathers are raw
+I'm getting cheddar galore like never before
+I can pull a dime quicker than Dillinger can pull a heist
+I rock the blue face presidential for the ice
+Me and my crew is sick like the flu
+So what you gon' do, boo, when we come for you, huh?
+It ain’t no calling time out once I climb out the garbage can
+Get two nines out, and blow your spine out
+
+[Chorus: Nas, Freeway, & 50 Cent]
+How could you call yourself MC?
+If you from the hood, I know you feel me
+How could you call yourself MC?
+I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned
+How could you call yourself MC?
+Bitches from the hood, I know you feel me
+How could you call yourself MC?
+I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Ayo, my whole entourage is large from here to Vegas
+Imitators hate us 'cause we sport gators and flavors
+Put snitches in boxes, coppers and federals watch us
+They tried everything in this world to lock us but can't stop us
+I'm known for rockin’ tours, picture me moppin’ floors
+Only fuck with ki's and not the kind that be lockin’ doors
+What I recite be takin' hours to write
+So if you bite, just tell your man what kind of flowers you like
+I be that buck wild, foul criminal who make the women smile
+It's time to drop something new, it's been a while
+And L is that nigga you expect to catch wreck on any cassette deck
+I’m so ahead of my time, my parents haven't met yet
+
+[Chorus: Nas, Freeway, & 50 Cent]
+How could you call yourself MC?
+If you from the hood, I know you feel me
+How could you call yourself MC?
+I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned
+How could you call yourself MC?
+Bitches from the hood, I know you feel me
+How could you call yourself MC?
+I'm the underground king, and I ain't been crowned
+
+[Outro: Big L]
+Word up, man, nowadays these cats don't be representing the microphone like they supposed to, word up, so we gotta take it back
+Only real niggas with skills should get deals, word up, one love to the whole Harlem clique
+Herb McGruff, Mase Murda, C.O.C., Killa Cam, Bloodshed
+You know how we do, Ron G, make it happenEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+In The GameIt's Flamboyant y'all
+Yeah, yeah yeah, Corleone y'all
+Me and my man was cruisin' through the streets
+And everything was flowin' nice the corner's crowded
+Niggas must be rollin' dice I parked the ride
+So my nigga Iroc can crash the lye spot and I'ma gamble
+Until he come back, why not? Click-clack, cock the gat back
+Gotta be strapped the game was mad packed
+Mad cats pockets was fat
+They playin' cee-lo, my dick get hard when I see dough
+I bets nothin' less than a G yo, you know my steelo
+First I was losin' then I started throwin' head crack
+After head crack, got my bread back, jumped in my red Ac'
+I'm waitin' for my nigga to come out of the spot
+I see niggas startin' to plot, and I'm far from my block
+Finally he walked out, told him, "Hop the fuck in"
+On my face he saw the grin and said, "How much did you win?"
+I estimated about, 45 maybe 50 G's
+My man was hungry so I dropped him off at Mickey D's
+Now I'm alone, headin' home to rest my dome
+Spotted some niggas trailin' so I picked up the phone
+Called Bones, I said, "Yo son, I'm on the run need your help
+Before I get done meet me downstairs, bring your big gun"
+I don't believe this, this nigga said he can't make it
+'Cause some bitch is in his house butt-naked and then he hung up
+And this supposed to be my man and he don't give a fuck
+That duck sold me out just to get a nut, what?
+I'm cruisin' fast and they still behind me
+The same nigga who I won the money from, and his grimy crimey
+It's about to get, real hasty grabbed the steel, took it off safety
+'Cause I refuse to let these niggas waste me
+I started to cruise fast, then stopped short and made 'em crash
+And now them fags is all bloody from the shattered glass
+And one of them had passed, when his face smashed the dash
+I was injured too, leakin' with a deep gash
+I ain't panicked, I was quite calm
+Couldn't use the right arm, so I grabbed the gat with the left
+Walked up to the car the creep was stuck in the seat
+Looked at him, shook my head then started buckin' my heat
+It's over now, cause both of these motherfuckers asleep
+I think I'm dyin', I'm feelin' weak out on my feet
+But before I got some medical help, I had to catch a cab first
+To one-forty-first and Bradhurst
+That's where Bones live, walked in the buildin', staggerin'
+Lookin' tore down, shot his door down and beat his whore down
+From the look in my eye, he knew he would die
+Started to cry, stuck the gat to his head and said, "Why?"
+Then he offered me, all of his cheese
+Then dropped to his knees and begged me please not to squeeze
+Then his brains got blast out, he's ass-out, then I dashed out
+Into the streets covered with blood, about to pass out
+The hospital's up, a couple of blocks, I'm on my way but
+Damn, here comes a couple of cops, I pulled out
+And started blowin' they started blowin' back I'm goin' all out
+I ain't holdin' back, I been to jail once and I ain't goin' back
+I kept shootin', one shot caught a cop dead in his top
+The other pig ducked behind a big truck
+I was bleedin' real bad, and couldn't stop it
+But still had the fifty thou' profit in my pockets
+The coast was clear, so I jetted to a park that was near
+Seen kids playin' everywhere then threw the cash in the air
+I watched all of them, run for they share and all I can do was stare
+I got weak and fell on my rear now I can hear the sirens
+That means here comes the Jakes but it's too late
+I'm knockin' on the pearly gates
+Yeah, casualties of a dice game
+Never gamble with snakes
+Let that be a lesson to ya
+Yeah, it's Corleone y'all
+Yeah, it's Flamboyant y'all
+Big L y'all, Flamboyant baby, yeah
+Big L, Big L, yeah, it's Flamboyant y'all, yeahEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+My Niggaz - Doo WopI'm comin through y'all, with the Glock buckin
+Ya whole block duckin
+Every bitch that I'm fuckin with now is cock suckin
+It's like I'm allergic to not fuckin
+Ya niggas is faggots like Rock Hudson and Boy George
+I destroy broads with one verse
+Nigga we could knuckle up or we could let the guns burst
+L is the type, to murder your son first, to get my point across
+Since y'all wanna chit or chat with the powers
+Y'all might as well join The Force
+Where I'm from believe me, snitches get killed
+Niggas be hustlin daily tryna fuck more bitches than Wilt
+Takin pitchers in silk, gayed it up
+Passport: dated up, hair braided up
+I fucked ya bitch but I ain't rape the slut she gave it up
+I runnin with Wop, you runnin wit me, we runnin together
+We get drunk and blunted together
+But don't front, the guns is under the leather
+Ready to ill, ready to kill, ready to peel
+Steppin to Corle' you better be real
+Cuz none of my niggas be lettin me chill
+My crew be deliverin hot lead
+When gats are clenched rappers I clap and lynch
+Nobody can fuck with the way I be killin up shit in rap events
+It's like, soon as I pick up a mic and start flowin the people yell
+I'm rugged as hell
+Brothers can tell, that none of y'all niggas is fuckin with L
+When I'm that nigga ya ex-pect, to catch wreck on any cassette deck
+I'm so ahead of my time my parents haven't met yetEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+’98 DOMSTR Germany Freestyle[Big L]
+Check it out
+It be Big L, I get hyper
+I be the fresh rhyme writer
+Peace to my man, DJ Schneider
+And I got to say what's up to Mike, he Funky Fresh
+Big L, quick to lay a punk to rest
+I'm going off the top of the head, so if I fuck up, so what?
+Big L, I'll put a hole in you the size of a donut
+I go nut, on a ball court
+Play all sports
+It's Big L, I live swell
+Rhyme well
+Check it out, I roll with D.I.T.C
+You can believe me
+Chilling with the crew, it ain't easy
+I'm in Germany
+I'm quick to earn a G
+It ain't a rapper alive that's burning me
+I'm fucking up but I want you to keep it
+I don't do this shit often
+Put crab MCs in the coffin
+I'm rhyming off this, ill shit that I'm rhyming to
+It's the Big L and um, I've been dying to
+Freestyle, off the top of the head
+Put the Glock to your head
+Squeeze off, pop-pop-pop and you're dead
+I'm in Germany, kicking this shit right here
+Check it out, I be the best, I swear
+It's B-I, G-L, know I live swell
+Ah, Casey, come in, fuck yoEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Dj Chill Will FreestyleI’m standing strong with my squad behind me
+Whoever wanna see me, come to Harlem; it ain’t hard to find me
+You might catch me on Lenox Ave, hopping in a Hummer
+Look out for the new smash, dropping in the summer
+Mics I steadily smoke, rhymes cleverly wrote
+As long as I can rock a crowd I’m a never be broke
+Ya'll hoes see me on Soul Train, iced out gold chain
+To hell with a piece of the pie, I want the whole thang
+Rap I got sewn, front, get your spot blown
+Punk, don’t be mad at me cause you not known
+And right now I’m on top of the world
+So when you see me coming through, put a lock on your girlEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Platinum Plus (Original Riverside Mix)*Scratch* Champion Sound...
+*Scratch* Champion Sound...
+*Scratch* Champion Sound...
+
+[Verse 1: C-Town]
+I be that Harlem World party pleaser
+You might catch me on one-three-nine sippin' a Bacardi Breezer
+That's where I rest at, killin' tracks is what I'm best at
+Jealousy? I expect that, I don't stress that
+I want a cutie with some tight jeans on, that I can scheme on
+Treat her nice, take her out, and trick some cream on
+TV screens all over the U.S. I'm seen on
+It ain't all about me, I'm tryin' to put my team on
+'Casue it's good to have a crew to lean on, mics I fiend on
+You think you can do it like this? Dream on
+I'ma chrome my rims and ice my chain
+Fly clothes and pretty hoes is the price of fame
+
+[Hook: Big L]
+Ayyo, gats we bust, backs we crush
+Only hot tracks we lust, crazy stacks we clutch
+We need plaques to touch, that say platinum plus
+Cause half of you niggas that's rappin' now is wack to us
+
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Yo, fuck all the glamours and glitz, son I plan to get rich
+I'm from New York and never was a fan of the Knicks
+And I'm all about expandin' my chips
+You mad cause I was in the van with your bitch
+With both hands on her tits
+Corleone hold the throne, that you know in your heart
+I got style, plus the way that I be flowin is sharp
+A while back I used to hustle, sellin' blow in the park
+Countin G stacks and rockin' ice that glow in the dark
+Forever - hottie huntin', trigger temper I'm quick to body somethin'
+You lookin at me like I'm probably frontin'
+I fuck around and throw, three in your chest and flee to my rest
+I'm, older and smarter this is me at my best
+And I stopped hangin' around y'all, cause niggas like you
+Be prayin' on my downfall, hopin I flop
+Hopin' I stop, you probably even hope I get locked
+Or be on the street corner with a pipe, smokin' the rock
+I got more riches than you, fuck more bitches than you
+Only thing I haven't got is more, stitches than you
+Fuckin' punk, you ain't a leader what? Nobody Followed you
+You was never shit, your mother shoulda swallowed you
+[Hook: Big L]
+Ayyo, gats we bust, backs we crush
+Only hot tracks we lust, crazy stacks we clutch
+We need plaques to touch, that say platinum plus
+Cause half of you niggas that's rappin' now is wack to us
+Ayyo, gats we bust, backs we crush
+Only hot tracks we lust, crazy stacks we clutch
+We need plaques to touch, that say platinum plus
+Cause half of you niggas that's rappin' now is wack to us
+
+[Verse 3: C-Town]
+I stay sweatin' out a bitch perm
+I love it when the girl ass is fat, and they tits firm
+I take all the dough my chicks earn
+I watched Corleone do it, now it's Chris turn
+A hoodlum like Fishburne
+Act illy, get smacked silly with the Mac milli'
+You see me on MTV and Rap City
+Keep frontin' I'ma step out, mask on with the TEC out
+Squeeze shots and make you check out
+
+[Verse 4: Big L]
+And if you think I can't fuck with whoever, put your money up
+Put your jewels up, fuck it put your honey up
+Put your raggedy house up nigga, or shut your mouth up
+Before I buck lead, and make a lot of blood shed
+Turn your tux red, I'm far from broke, I got enough bread
+And mad hoes, ask Beavis I get nuttin Butt-head
+While I'm tourin' countries, you on the block poutin'
+I done fucked so many hoes, after two-thou' I stopped countin'
+[Hook: Big L]
+Ayyo, gats we bust, backs we crush
+Only hot tracks we lust, crazy stacks we clutch
+We need plaques to touch, that say platinum plus
+Cause half of you niggas that's rappin' now is wack to us
+Ayyo, gats we bust, backs we crush
+Only hot tracks we lust, crazy stacks we clutch
+We need plaques to touch, that say platinum plus
+Cause half of you niggas that's rappin' now is wack to us
+
+*Scratch* (The number one)...
+*Scratch* (The number one)...
+*Scratch* (The number one)...
+*Scratch* (The number one)...
+*Scratch* (The number one)...EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+’92 Rock N. Wills Audition (Hardpack Tape Freestyle Live on 125th)[Intro: Big L]
+Yo one two, one two, go 'head, you can drop it
+
+Yeah one two one two, I go by the name of the Big L, ya know what I'm sayin'. Rock this with Rock N. Wills, the hardpack tape, aight it go like this
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Ayyo I got the gift o' gab
+To lift and grab
+The mic
+And recite hype rhymes
+That'll rip and rag
+And drag
+A fag MC
+Who likes to nag a lot
+And brag a lot
+Talkin' about the lyrics that he have are hot
+Step to this and get lit like a candle troop
+Rhymes I hook up, MCs I cook up
+Like Campbell's Soup
+I throw rhymes like a quarterback
+Front and you'll get bust and dust and crushed
+Bum rushed and all o' that
+Rhymes never sound wack
+Cause I got 'em down pat
+Your rulin' time is over
+So gimme your crown jack
+I get hype fast
+And MCs might last
+A minute with me
+Because their rhymes are light as
+A feather
+And mines are heavy like a big brick
+Rappers catch a fit quick
+When I start to kick shit
+And I record my battles on a camcorder
+So I can sit back and watch me manslaughter
+MCs that tried to get wit' me hops
+That's why they all got tooken out like a Bensi box
+The crown is still mine cause I kick ill rhymes
+A lotta rappers talk that murder shit and couldn't kill time
+Or beat eggs or whip cream
+I'm smoother than Vaseline
+And I'm a stone cold rappin' fiend
+A lot of new jacks are comin' out, but that's cool
+Cause I'm the principal of the new school
+Alright check this out, another joint like this…
+
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Yeah, aight, check it out…
+I control the microphone like a robot
+My lyrics are so hot, props I got a whole lot
+Cause wit' a pen and some paper this man makes
+Rhymes that're so damn great, with flavor like pancakes
+I'm kickin' rhymes like a game of kickball
+I'm rough like a brick wall, MCs take a big fall
+For tryin' to get with this, I'm too swift with this
+A microphone murderer full with magnificence
+A def rapper and also a swell one
+In a battle I cook MCs well done
+My hits are consecutive
+I'm a lyrical executive
+Bite my rhymes and I won't let you live
+So to be safe on the microphone homes
+Recite your own poems or get your dome flown
+Or put in a boot camp, L is the new champ
+I'm not the type to go out like a food stamp
+I'm throwin' rhymes like a pitcher throws a, curve ball
+And I'm a serve all punks that try to brawl
+So stop sleepin' on me, don't even doze hops
+Or I'm a heat you up and eat you up like Stove Top
+Stuffin', I'm bum rushin', shorts I'm takin' none
+My rhymes weigh a ton, I'm not fakin' son
+You're the one who's fakin', tryin' to be a duplicate
+Can't kick stupid shit, tell you the truth, you should quit
+Rappin', start snappin', cause all you is a joke
+Battle L and get smoked
+Yo I overthrow ya and have ya screamin' like a rollercoaster
+Guzzle you down like a small cup o' Coca-Cola
+I'm goin' through MCs like a ransack
+Stand back, as I cruise smooth like a Am-Trak
+Your rhymes are rusty g, you can't fuck with me
+That's why you're hidin' in protective custody
+L's not the one and I keep MCs runnin'
+I hurt 'em like bunions, make 'em cry like onions
+I'm a lyrical fighter and I'm brighter than Einstein
+Try to bite my lines and you'll get a size nine
+Foot put in your ass for bein' a crook
+Hit with a vital hook and get your title took
+[Big L]
+Yeah, I'm a pass it to my man
+
+[Lord Finesse]
+Haha, said he got flavor. Yeah you keep that flowin', enjoy baby, you wanna kick some flavor
+
+[Verse 3: Lord Finesse]
+Now check it out, I'm a get paid for the nineteen nineties
+I don't care who likes me or who stands behind me
+The man to peep, far from weak so don't sleep
+From stage to streets I still go one deep
+So save that off the wall bullshit, ya get had son
+Fuck around, grab the mic and catch a bad one
+I come correct and strapped to bust a ill rap
+Me take a loss to who? Ya oughta kill that
+Back up, slack up, give a brother some head room
+Hype on the mic, amazin' in the bedroom
+Girls like me cause I'm straight and don't sidestep
+I do shit Jack LaLanne ain't tried yet
+Ask any female, bet you she'll say I'm good
+That's why I'm Finesse, porn star of the neighborhood
+Yeah, cause I kick slicker raps
+It's Lord Finesse, so bow and tip your hat
+And make way cause I get plenty say
+And those who don't like me I don't give a shit anyway
+Cause when it comes to lyrics I always find somethin'
+That make brothers press the rewind button
+I'm a get mine, tell me what you're gonna do?
+Cause ya couldn't see me if ya wanted to
+Get who you want, shit you could call the cops
+But for now, I'm gettin' all my props
+I reign terror, whatever's clever
+I'm cooler than The Mack and Shaft put together
+So chill, don't try to get ill dummy
+Me get stomped by who? Be for real, money
+I'm not havin' it so go on and get your best group
+You'll see why they call me Lord Finesse, troop
+I eat 'em like sandwiches, send 'em home in bandages
+Gimme that mic, I'll show you what doin' damage is
+Nice, swift and deeper than quicksand
+I'm takin' out opponents like a hit man
+I get the crowd hype like a sorta drug
+It's Lord Finesse, who the fuck you thought it was?
+I lounge and chill but still could get ill
+I'm live and real with skill beyond skill
+Pull girls like a lasso, keep the crazy cash flow
+A nigga beat me on the mic? Don't be an asshole
+I'm indestructible so bring in a substitute
+What's up with a battle? Yo I can't fuck with you
+[Lord Finesse]
+Yo it's like that y'all, it's like that-tha-that it's like that y'all
+I'm a let my man flip that beat for me
+Ya don't stop…I'm gonna kick this last rhyme then I'm gonna pass it back to my man
+
+Keep it flowin'…Got my man Big L in the house. Lord Finesse, for the hardpack, got my man Will in the house, you know what I'm sayin', my man Wick Wise in the house, Rock out there makin' the money, I don't know where Mo at but she on the slow jam tip you know what I'm sayin', we gonna get this flowin' in a minute…aight check it out…Keep this flowin', ya know what I'm sayin'…Here it is, we gonna check it out like this and ya don't stop, now keep it on 'til the break o' dawn
+
+[Verse 4: Lord Finesse]
+I'm intellectual, gettin' the best of you
+I eat MCs like the food at a festival
+Drop science and math; stand tall like a giraffe
+Completin' the…task, breakin' rappers in half
+Puttin' suckers out of it, yeah I talk a lot of shit
+But when it comes to rhymes I deserve a fuckin' scholarship
+Won't front or perp the role, I get the most of hoes
+I'm so cool, I've got pussy on remote control
+Whether you're a virgin or a bad lookin' hot sister
+I'm baggin' up bitches like a shoplifter
+So Lord Finesse is not the one to fool
+I was gettin' sex since they first invented Underoos
+So set it off, no time to rehearse the rappin'
+It's Lord Finesse, so prepare for the worst to happen
+Mics get ripped up, good times get tucked
+Throw your hands in the air, suckers keep your lips shut
+Cause ya'll wanna waste time sayin' them fake rhymes
+Gimme my respect and props or I'm a take mine
+Cause I ain't nothin' to play with
+And fuckin' with me ya need more than a first aid kit
+So it's better that ya chill and max with me
+I'm sendin' out warnin's quicker than a fax machine
+I get funky and kick it so let's get wit' it
+Opponents who think they can hang, y'all can forget it
+I sit and write rhymes, makin' up hype lines
+Achievin' shit you couldn't do in a lifetime
+So don't care me and compare me to those other brothers
+I'm Lord Finesse and I'm one bad ass muthafucker
+I'm doin' MCs as ya hire 'em
+Bustin' they ass and make 'em sign up for retirement
+Without doubt I'm a brother with all the clout
+Whoever said I'm wack, what the fuck is they talkin' about?
+Yeah, you don't stop, so L, my man my brother
+Tear shit up you bad muthafucker
+
+[Verse 5: Big L]
+Yo I'm the microphone murderer
+And I'm known for bustin' mad caps
+I was in rag tracks with rhymes that backslap
+'causin' a nightmare, I don't fight fair
+Niggas playin' hard rock, hopin' they might scare
+The B-I-G-L but I'm not to be fucked wit'
+You're tryin' to take your idol's title?
+You on some bugged shit
+I keep the women fiendin' and screamin' for my smooth shit
+My rhymes are mad thick and yours is thin as a pool stick
+Fuck it, bust it, I like it rough and rugged
+Your style is wick wack and played out like nugget
+Bracelets, face this, you can't erase this, escape this
+Break this, take this, cause I bake this
+I get so loose on beats that I produce
+Niggas be frontin' crazy hard and got no juice
+They softer than paper plates, the lyrics I make is great
+A few sheets of loose leaf and a Erasermate
+Is all I need to write rhymes that are extra fly
+Mics I wreck and fry, rappers I petrify
+Pack a fo' fif' with eight shots
+With one you get popped
+And now you're locked in a box, dead, with no props
+I'm not jokin', there's no time for snappin'
+Niggas that be yappin', I'm puttin' caps in
+So base up or get sprayed up to the waist up
+You'll get found faced up, police can't trace up
+Fingerprints, why? Because I leave no evidence
+Big L's the name, one three nine is the residence, peaceEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+MVP (97' Live at the Subterranea in London)[Intro: Big L]
+Say "M.V.P."
+Say "M.V.P."
+Say "M.V.P."
+Say "M.V.P."
+Say "Make money money, make money money money"
+Say "Take money money, take money money money"
+Check it
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Ayo spark up the Phillies and pass the stout
+Make it quick money grip or yo’ ass is out
+In a street brawl, I strike men, quicker than lightnin’
+You seen what happened in my last fight friend? Aight then
+L's a clever threat, lyricist who never sweat
+Comparing yourself to me is like a Benz to a Chevro-let
+Clown rappers I'm bound to slay
+Sayin’ hi to all the cuties from around the way
+Yeah, ‘cause I got all of them strung jack
+My girls are like boomerangs
+No matter how far I throw ‘em, they come back
+I'm comin’ straight out the N.Y.C.,
+I'm down with D.I.T.C. and I'm M.V.P
+
+[Hook: Big L]
+If rap was a game I'll be M.V.P.,
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+Ayo if rap was a game I'll be M.V.P.,
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Yo check it, it's a must that I get papes
+Peace to all the DJs who gave me love on they mixtapes
+Once again the man's back with a dance track
+Here's your chance jack to get loose and let your hands clap
+I got juice like BoKu, mad crews I broke through
+Niggas be mad ‘cause I hit more chicks than they spoke to
+And every time I’m jammed I always find a loophole
+I got a crime record longer than Manute Bol
+My raps are unbelievable like aliens in flying saucers
+No more iron horses ‘cause I'm buying Porsches
+Comin’ straight out the N.Y.C.,
+Peace to the Kid Capri, I'm M.V.P
+
+[Hook: Big L]
+If rap was a game I'll be M.V.P.,
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+I said if rap was a game I'll be M.V.P.,
+The most valuable poet on the M.I.C
+
+[Adlib: Big L]
+Now now:
+Throw ya hands up
+Uh throw ya hands up
+C'mon yeah, throw ya hands up...
+Check it out
+Ayo, I'm a switch the third verse, check it out...
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+I be that key niggy
+You see jiggy
+Push a V-Twiggy
+Large like Free Willy;
+Me broke? Don't be silly
+Youse a low life: no hoes, no ice
+Don't be, mad at me, cause I chose yo' wife
+With this rap shit I'm so nice
+Don't co-operate wit' po-lice
+On my spare time, I like to roll dice
+Not for petty change, I play for Gs and better
+You won't be rich as me, if your whole crew put y'all cheese together
+Cash I got plenty. Microphones? Rock many
+Everything I touch is in the top twenty
+Dumb hits, I'm the one that chicks be hawkin' a lot
+I stay drivin', you never see me walkin' a lot....
+
+[Outro: Big L]
+It's like that
+D.I.TC. baby. Uh-huh!
+Y'all know my man Kid Capri?
+He did-he did a single with me, it's called Put It On baby, and that's what I came to do...
+C'mon! C'mon, everybody! C'mon...EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Ebonics (Premo Mix)Yo, pay attention
+
+And listen real closely how I break this slang shit down
+
+Check it, my weed smoke is my lye
+
+A ki of coke is a pie
+
+When I'm lifted, I'm high
+
+With new clothes on, I'm fly
+
+Cars is whips and sneakers is kicks
+
+Money is chips, movies is flicks
+
+Also, cribs is homes, jacks is pay phones
+
+Cocaine is nose candy, cigarettes is bones
+
+A radio is a box, a razor blade is a ox
+
+Fat diamonds is rocks and jakes is cop
+
+And if you got rubbed, you got stuck
+You got shot, you got bucked
+
+And if you got double-crossed, you got fucked
+
+Your bankroll is your poke, a choke hold is a yoke
+
+A kite is a note, a con is a okey doke
+
+And if you got punched that mean you got snuffed
+
+To clean is to buff, a bull scare is a strong bluff
+
+I know you like the way I'm freakin' it
+
+I talk with slang and I'ma never stop speakin' it
+
+Chorus(x2):
+"Speak with criminal slang" -Nas
+
+That's just the way that I talk, yo
+
+"Vocabulary spills, I'm ill" -Nas
+
+Yo, yo
+
+A burglary is a jook, a woof's a crook
+Mobb Deep already explained the meanin' of shook
+
+If you caught a felony, you caught a F
+
+If you got killed, you got left
+
+If you got the dragon, you got bad breath
+
+If you 730, that mean you crazy
+
+Hit me on the hip means page me
+
+Angel dust is sherm, if you got AIDS, you got the germ
+
+If a chick gave you a disease, then you got burned
+
+Max mean to relax, guns and pistols is gats
+
+Condoms is hats, critters is cracks
+
+The food you eat is your grub
+
+A victim's a mark
+
+A sweat box is a small club, your tick is your heart
+Your apartment is your pad
+
+Your old man is your dad
+
+The studio is the lab and heated is mad
+
+I know you like the way I'm freakin' it
+
+I talk with slang and I'ma never stop speakin' it
+
+Chorus(x2)
+
+The iron horse is the train and champaign is bubbly
+
+A deuce is a honey that's ugly
+
+If your girl is fine, she's a dime
+
+A suit is a fine, jewelry is shine
+
+If you in love, that mean you blind
+
+Genuine is real, a face card is a hundred dollar bill
+
+A very hard, long stare is a grill
+
+If you sneakin' to go see a girl, that mean you creepin'
+
+Smilin' is cheesin', bleedin' is leakin'
+
+Beggin is bummin, if you nuttin you comin
+
+Takin' orders is sunnin', an ounce of coke is a onion
+
+A hotel's a telly, a cell phone's a celly
+
+Jealous is jelly, your food box is your belly
+
+To guerrilla mean to use physical force
+
+You took a L, you took a loss
+
+To show off mean floss, uh
+
+I know you like the way I'm freakin' it
+
+I talk with slang and I'ma never stop speakin' it
+
+Chorus(x2)
+
+Yeah, yeah
+
+One love to my big brother, Big Lee
+
+Holdin' it down
+
+Yeah, Flamboyant for life
+
+Yeah yeah, Flamboyant for lifeEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Stretch & Bobbito ’93Check it out, this the Big L yknowimsayin
+Chillin with my man Herb, we gon' drop like this
+Check it out, check it
+
+You better flee Hops, or get your head thrown three blocks
+L be keepin niggas hearts pumpin like Reeboks
+It's the nigga that bitches suck and sweat
+Faggots I buck and wet, disrespect and I'ma break ya fuckin neck
+I'm known to put a cap in a duck face, I spray guns, Fuck Face
+I'm a nutcase from a rough place, it's called Uptown
+Front and get bucked down
+Walk through with jewels on, that ass'll get stuck clown
+I got styles you can't copy bitch
+It's the triple six in the mix
+Straight from H-E double hockey sticks
+I'm the Devil's Son, like my song said:
+I smash niggas like cornbread
+You can't kill me - I was born dead
+I wet shit up like a floodage
+Me and me crew peel cats and carry gats like it's luggage
+I'm nowhere near trash, step to the rear fast
+'fore I have ya queer ass cryin like tear gas
+Every year I gain clout, and my game sprout
+Some niggas'll be virgins if crack never came out
+The Big L's hard to kill, when my squad gets ill
+You better guard your grill, before you gets scarred for real
+Big L is a large boss
+Known for puttin more holes in a nigga body than in a golf course
+I'm crazy quick to knock a duck off
+I'll pull out then buck off
+And tear a nigga grill right the fuck off
+You'll get smoked - like a Phillie fast
+Cuz ya shit is really trash
+Fuck around, I swing on ya silly ass
+It's Big L the crime converter
+Sayin peace to all the niggas in jail doin time for murder
+I wreck the mic, plus the whole stage, rockin cornrow braids
+I'm killin motherfuckers like old age
+Known to keep a hottie open
+I keep a shotty smokin
+Front and get half the bones in ya body broken
+I never false teach, so listen as the boss preach
+I only rock leathers by Martin Cannon and North Face
+I'm makin rap hits, I stab flicks and mack chicks
+Just the slim ones, you won't see L with no fat bitch
+Yo I'm the nigga that they call AWOL
+Punks - I slay all, on my spare time I play ball
+In the playgrounds I spray clowns with trey pounds
+Makin G's from transportin ki's on Greyhounds
+My shit is kickin like a sensai
+I'm smoother than Ben Gay
+¿Comprende?
+I'm outtie like M.JEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Tim westwood freestyle[Verse 1: Big L]
+Yo check it
+My clique is quick to put a bullet in a stranger's dome
+You shoulda known not to roam through the Danger Zone
+In Harlem is where the thugs rest, in a slug fest
+I'm sending faggots all the way to heaven like Doug Fresh
+Big L grew up in the slums with greed, known for drawing guns with speed
+And selling tons of weed, cause I got sons to feed
+It's a must that my toast smokes, I'm not like most folks
+Fuck tens and twenties, I carry ghost notes
+And it's a must that I commence to slain
+Any faggot MC who goes against the grain
+I'mma smoke Pataki ass and Rudolph Giuli' like a wooly
+I keep a tooly for any muli who act fooly
+So if a nigga disrespect L, to hell is where I'mma send ‘em
+After I skin ‘em and spit some venom in ‘em
+I run with intruders, looters and sharpshooters
+Who spark buddhas and fuck thick bitches with large hooters
+I'm the nigga that be jumping on your stereo
+So when I walk the streets the bitches be tapping they friends, like there he go!
+I never had rules to follow, none of my jewels are hollow
+Try to take mines and you'll be on the news tomorrow
+Cause I never was the type to start beefs
+But I spark creeps on dark streets and stop they heart beats
+To hell with silly games, I play survival sports
+Sometimes I be in the crib stressed the fuck out, with suicidal thoughts
+All my life I been a lady bruiser, a wrong chooser
+School refuser, drug abuser, born loser
+Clothes bummy, nose runny, it wasn't funny
+A little dummy who tried to kill his mother for insurance money
+Now me and the devil is on the same team
+I'mma hit the mainstream with ill raps that's poison like gangrene
+I’m better than every rapper that you thought was raw
+Peace to all of my peoples out in Baltimore
+I'm not a coward, so fronting on me, I won't allow it
+I'm high powered, fucking freak bitches like Adina Howard
+Front, get your belly torn, I keep a Pelle on
+I'm fucking with Grey Poupon and Dom Pérignon
+Cause on the Ave. I pump rocks, quick to give a chump knots
+You ain't tough, the only thing you shooting is jump shots
+My style is hard like strong lumber, cute chicks get the dick
+And ugly bitches get the wrong number
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+Genius Annotation  1 Contributor ?
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+Back in the hood, Big L would sell crack and beat people’s asses if they tried him, he was quick to whoop someones ass, no games
+
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+Propose an edit
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+Upvote +2 Downvote
+
+PYONG!
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+Suggest an improvement or correction to earn IQEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Put In On (Non-Prophets Remix)[Intro]
+Big L
+Big L
+You can't kill me, I was born dead
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Ayo, you better flee hops, or get your head flown three blocks
+L keep rappers’ hearts pumpin' like Reeboks
+And every year I gain clout and my name sprouts
+Some brothers'd still be virgins if crack never came out
+I got the wild style, always been a foul child
+My guns go "BOOM BOOM!" and yo’ guns go "pow pow"
+I'm known to have a hottie open
+I keep the shotty smokin'
+Front, and get half the bones in your body broken
+And when it comes to gettin' nookie I'm not a rookie
+I got girls that make that chick Toni Braxton look like Whoopi
+I run with sturdy cliques
+I'm never hittin' dirty chicks
+Got thirty-five bodies, buddy, don't make it thirty-six
+Step to this, you’re good as gone
+Word is bond, I leave mics torn when I put it on
+
+[Chorus: Kid Capri]
+So put it on, Big L, put it on!
+C’mon, put it onnn, and onnn, and onnn!
+C'mon, put it on, Big L, put it on!
+C’mon, put it on, represent, put it on, C'MON!
+[Verse 2: Big L]
+Nobody can take nothin' from Big L but a loss, chief
+The last punk who fronted got a mouth full of false teeth
+I'm known to gas a hottie and blast a shotty
+Got more cash than Gotti
+(You don’t know?) you better ask somebody
+Big L is a crazy brother, and I'm a lady lover
+A smooth kid that'll run up in your baby mother
+I push a slick Benz, I'm known to hit skins
+And get ends and commit sins with sick friends
+'Cause I'm a money getter, also a honey hitter
+You think you nice as me? Haha, you's a funny nigga
+I flows, so one of my shows wouldn't be clever to miss
+I'm leavin' competitors pissed
+To tell you the truth, it gets no better than this
+I'm catchin' wreck to the break of dawn
+In this song, yo, it's a must that I put it on
+
+[Chorus: Kid Capri]
+Yeah, so put it on, Big L, put it on!
+C'mon, put it onnn, big fella, put it on and on!
+Put it on, Big L!
+Put it on, represent!
+Put it on, c'mon, put it on!
+
+[Bridge: Patois Chatta]
+Some boys see me gun nozzle and take a we fi joke
+Boy, you gwan dead before you see me gun smoke
+See me gun nozzle and take me fi joke
+You gwan dead from a me you provoke
+[Verse 3: Big L]
+I drink Moët, not Beck's beer, I stay dressed in slick gear
+Peace to my homies in the gangsta lean, I see you when I get there
+And it's a fact I keep a gat in my arm reach
+I charm freaks and bomb geeks from here to Palm Beach
+I'm puttin' rappers in the wheelchair
+Big L is the villain you still fear
+'Cause I be hangin' in Harlem and shit is for real here
+If you battle L you picked the wrong head
+I smash mics like cornbread
+You can't kill me, I was born dead
+And I'm known to pull steel trigs and kill pigs
+I run with ill kids and real nigs who peel wigs
+My rap's steady slammin', I keep a heavy cannon
+It's a new sheriff in town and it ain't Reggie Hammond
+Peace to my peoples, the Children of the Corn
+'Cause we put it on, adiós, ghost, I'm gone
+
+[Chorus: Kid Capri]
+So put it on, Big L, put it on!
+C'mon, put it onnn, big fella put it on and onnn!
+Big L, you gotta put it on and on!
+Put it on, Big L put it on ond on!
+Word up, knahmsayin?
+My man Big L, runnin' things for the nine-four
+And nine-oh-s, you know what I mean?
+It's the Kid Capri, in full flair
+And we gon' put it on a little somethin' like this
+Big L, c'mon!
+[Outro: Big L (Kid Capri)]
+Lord Finesse (He be puttin' it on)
+My man Buckwild (He be puttin' it on and on)
+My man Fat Joe (He be puttin' it on)
+Showbiz and A.G. (Yeah, they be puttin' it on and on)
+I can't forget Diamond D (He be puttin' it on)
+The whole D.I.T.C. (Yeah, they be puttin' it on and on)EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Chill Will FreestyleIntro: Yeah yeah, you got Big L Corleone in the house, you got my little brother C-Town in the house, we about to rip this shit, this goes out to my big brother Big Lee, holdin’ it down in Oneida. Ain’t nothin’ goin’ down in Harlem without your permission
+
+[Big L]
+
+I’m standin’ strong with my squad behind me
+Whoever wanna see me, come to Harlem, it ain’t hard to find me
+You might catch me on Lenox Ave., hoppin’ in a Hummer
+Look out for the new smash, droppin’ in the summer
+Mics I steadily smoke, rhymes cleverly wrote
+As long as I can rock a crowd I’m a never be broke
+Ya'll hoes see me on Soul Train, iced out gold chain
+To hell with a piece of the pie, I want the whole thang
+Rap I got sewn, front, get your spot blown
+Punk, don’t be mad at me ‘cause you not known
+And right now I’m on top of the world
+So when you see me comin’ through, put a lock on your girl
+
+Outro: Chill Will, Masterpiece number ten, Big L and C-Town, representin’ Flamboyant Entertainment, Big L, C.E.O., one love to the one and only, legendary, N.F.L. crew, Big Stan, where the fuck you was at nigga, we was Chillin' Willin’...EmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Big L The PhenomenonSicasicaiscaEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Holdin’ It Down (Original Version)[Intro: Big L & Pete Rock]
+Yeah yeah, Flamboyant Entertainment
+Big L
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+Yo, y'all fellas like to stress them chicks
+Impress them chicks, spend money to dress them chicks
+I sex them chicks and send them home
+Corleone is known to be stoned
+When I bone, I'm rubbered up in case that shit full blown
+The other night around 8 P.M
+Pockets crazy slim, jumped out the gray BM
+Went to the ATM, took a thou' out
+Then later on I had to wild out
+In the club, knock some coward and his pal out
+Then afterwards went to the restroom, pissed Cristal out
+Now I'm thinkin - which chick number I could dial out
+Cause it's L, the Harlem pimp baby, for real
+I got more dimes than that Sprint lady
+And that's ill, playa haters be givin me harsh looks
+But I'm tryin to sell records like Garth Brooks
+So eff 'em all, when it's cold I throw the skelly on
+Illegal chips keep my celly on
+Mega-ice is what I'm heavy on
+If it ain't Cristal boo, I guess it's Perignon
+If the na-na's too tight, I throw some jelly on
+Yo try to tax and watch the nine mill burst
+I've been off the scene over three years
+And cats is still thirst - to hear Big L drop an ill verse
+So all you unsigned cats that want to battle;
+Get a deal first - I sport the bulletproof, fitted hat
+That attitude - you better get rid of that
+Wherever you floss is where you gon' get it at
+What? I stay strapped, I go to sleep with my steel
+Makin figures while you broke cats keepin it real
+L is rap's most livest cat
+I'm gettin stacks while you askin people
+"Do you want fries with that?"
+I rob fags in the staircase, no mask, bare-faced
+The one police wouldn't dare chase
+Keep my gear laced - do I walk around without papes? No way pal
+Word up - my money longer than the OJ trial
+
+[Hook: Pete Rock (Turntable Scratching)]
+Harlem world, holdin it down
+L rhyme great, Nigga Long overdue
+They want know if you still got it? ("It's so amazin'!")
+Harlem world, holdin it down ("Big L")
+L rhyme great, Nigga Long overdue ("Big L, so amazin'!")
+
+
+[Verse 2: Party Arty]
+Them lil' niggas that be rapping on my block'll diss you
+If you not official, when i cock the pistol
+Lick a shot and hit you, spit the ox and rip you, plot to get you
+Nigga fuck boxing with you
+Brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten
+And I'm still mad plottin', the big apples mad rotten
+The rap cocking, I'm that hot and my gat popping
+I rap with the black stocking cap, over my face
+Taking over the place, put the toast in your face
+Open the safe, gimme the money the sculpture and the vase
+I run with niggas that'll throw a key of coke in your face
+Niggas'll sign anything when that dough in your face
+I put two in your asshole, tryna ruin my rap flow
+I spit like I'm chewing tobacco, we stack dough
+And pack fo' in the Range Rover
+Party Arty the flamethrower, game over
+
+[Hook: Pete Rock (Turntable Scratching)]
+Harlem world, holdin it down
+L rhyme great, Nigga Long overdue ("Big L")
+They want know if you still got it? ("It's so amazin'!")
+Harlem world, holdin it down ("Big L")
+L rhyme great, Nigga Long overdue ("Big L, So amazin'!")
+
+[A.G.]
+Yo, yo move the fuck, A bring the heat, when I touch tracks
+These niggas beef then wanna chill? Fuck that
+These rap niggas with the mills, we deduct that
+I asked all my ghetto cats, where my love at
+Now where the brews, and the drugs at?
+Corrupt cats kept slug hats
+Asked the feds where the bugs at
+Puff with the dread, cause I puff black
+High, til I die, and you can trust that
+All I wanna know - is the club packed?
+I see the haters sweatin shorty, but I dug that
+She put my nutsac, back where her lungs at - little ho
+And them niggas who owe, give up that
+Huh, it's me and Corle', like Eddie and Nolte
+Go 'head and provoke me
+Heard you rap, wanna rhyme? Better be dope B
+Still "Diggin", still livin, still givin
+Y'all the ill written, still fuckin like Bill Clinton
+[Hook: Pete Rock (Turntable Scratching)] (x2)
+
+[Outro: Pete Rock]
+To my man Big L
+Big shout to my man Mike Heron
+No doubt
+A.G
+Party
+No doubtEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
+**************************************************
+Harlem World Universal[Intro: Big L]
+Check it out now
+Big L, Corleone
+Flamboyant Entertainment
+One love to my big brother Big Lee, holdin it down from the inside right now
+When you come home it's on
+Herb McGruff, Universal, Harlem World shit
+139 & Lennox shit, "Danger Zone" shit
+Check it out
+
+[Verse 1: Big L]
+I be twistin' bitches alot, have 'em sit on this cock
+I wasn't prepared for this I wrote my shit on the spot
+I be droppin' like early August late July
+With tracks that will make you cry, hate you die
+Stop frontin' you got no dough
+Mighta had but not no mo', you mad 'cause I knocked yo' hoe
+While cops watch me, I got cats that watch po po
+My block loco, don't need a crew I rock solo
+On wit my nigga Gruff, these faggot niggas ain't as rich as us
+I need chicks to lust, smoke my weed mixed with dust
+Go ahead and let your crew soup you up
+And the ambulance gon' have to come and scoop you up
+Fuck what my last sold, my new shit is goin' past gold
+And if you don't agree you's a asshole
+Mark my word, you gon' make pump the berg
+And spark this herb, 'till homicide chalk the curb, you heard
+I never hesitate to buck my gun
+Harlem World, y'all know where the fuck I'm fromEmbedShare Url:CopyEmbed:Copy
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