Big L - 95 Session

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  • Опубліковано 2 жов 2024
  • Lyrics
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    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 yoking jacks
    And beatin them with smoking 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 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, niggaz 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 tech 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 hotty stare
    I keep a shotty near
    It's the nigga with notty hair who Gotti fear
    Tracks I'm know to roast
    Until the microphone is ghost
    Props I own the most
    I'm leaving niggaz 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 techniques 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
    -------------------------------------------------------------
    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 in 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
    Niggaz 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'ma beat your fagot ass half-dead
    I stomp white cops till the 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 Miss 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
    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

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