Stretch & Bobbito '95 Pt. I

[Big L]

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

[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, pullin R&B bitches wearin hoodies

They don't be knowin the way I be flowin

When I be goin, 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 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 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

Your 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 (death)

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