lirik lagu ’98 freestyle – big l
[big l]
one-two, one-two
kinda tired.
big l, ’bout ta. get into some sh-t
aight check it out
yo, f-ck 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 b-tch
with both hands on her t-ts
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 f-ck 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 n-gg-z 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, f-ck more b-tches than you
only thing i haven’t got is more, st-tches than you
f-ckin punk, you ain’t a +leader+ what? n-body +follow-ed+ you
you was never sh-t, your mother shoulda swallowed you
(mmmm. whoo!) you on some tagalong flunkie yes man sh-t
do me a favor, please get off the next man d-ck
and if you think i can’t f-ck with whoever, put your money up
put your jewels up, no f-ck it put your honey up
put your raggedy house up n-gg-, 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 b-tt-head
{-laughter-} my game is, vicious and cool
f-ckin chicks is a rule
if my girl think i’m loyal then that b-tch is a fool
how come, you can listen to my first alb-m
and tell where a lot of n-gg-z 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 n-gg- sum’un, ‘fore i crack his jaw
you runnin with boys, i’m runnin with men
i’ma be rippin the mics until i’m a hundred and ten
have y’all n-gg-z like, ‘d-mnit this n-gg- 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 f-ck with none of you n-gg-z
i might pull out this gun on your n-gg-z
and rob every last one of you n-gg-z
[bobbito] yeahhh! (what? )
[big l] i’m tired
[bobbito] for somebody tired, that wasn’t, that wasn’t too bad!
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