**************************************************
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
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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
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’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



































































































Genius Annotation  1 Contributor ?














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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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