Big L + Jay-Z Freestyle
A'ight, Big L, pardon the, uh, technical difficulty (check it out)
Check it out (haha, woo), aight, check it out
How 'bout I put your man on, too? You can do it together
A'ight, a'ight, I'ma set it off like this, check it out
Yo, check it
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' 'em 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've seen what happened in my last fight, friend? A'ight, then
I beat kids with lead pipes, I leave trails of dead mics
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 are 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 motherfucker 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
Word up? (Say what, say what?)
'95 style (yeah), I got my man 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 to 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' Cristal, 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 jism
Just like the gods I start with knowledge then 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 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'll 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
Emcees' 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
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 probably 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 a 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 Miss 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', a'ight?
Check it out (haha, woo), aight, check it out
How 'bout I put your man on, too? You can do it together
A'ight, a'ight, I'ma set it off like this, check it out
Yo, check it
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' 'em 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've seen what happened in my last fight, friend? A'ight, then
I beat kids with lead pipes, I leave trails of dead mics
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 are 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 motherfucker 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
Word up? (Say what, say what?)
'95 style (yeah), I got my man 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 to 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' Cristal, 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 jism
Just like the gods I start with knowledge then 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 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'll 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
Emcees' 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
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 probably 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 a 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 Miss 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', a'ight?
Credits
Writer(s): Shawn Carter, Sean Combs, Allie Wrubel, Nashiem Myrick, Herbert Magidson, Christopher Wallace
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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