Big L - '92 Rock N. Wills Audition (Hardpack Tape Freestyle Live on 125th) lyrics

[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 f*g 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 sh** 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 sh** and couldn't k** 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 sh**, 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 f** 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 a** for bein' a crook Hit with a vital hook and get your title took [Big L] Yeah, I'm a pa** 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 bullsh**, ya get had son f** 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 k** 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 sh** Jack LaLanne ain't tried yet Ask any female, bet you she'll say I'm good That's why I'm Finesse, p**n 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 sh** anyway Cause when it comes to lyrics I always find somethin' That make brothers press the rewind bu*ton 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, sh** 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 f** you thought it was? I lounge and chill but still could get ill I'm live and real with sk** beyond sk** Pull girls like a la**o, keep the crazy cash flow A n***a beat me on the mic? Don't be an a**hole I'm indestructible so bring in a substitute What's up with a battle? Yo I can't f** 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 pa** 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' s**ers out of it, yeah I talk a lot of sh** But when it comes to rhymes I deserve a f**in' scholarship Won't front or perp the role, I get the most of hoes I'm so cool, I've got p**y on remote control Whether you're a virgin or a bad lookin' hot sister I'm baggin' up b**hes like a shoplifter So Lord Finesse is not the one to fool I was gettin' s** 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, s**ers 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 f**in' 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' sh** 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 a** muthaf**er I'm doin' MCs as ya hire 'em Bustin' they a** and make 'em sign up for retirement Without doubt I'm a brother with all the clout Whoever said I'm wack, what the f** is they talkin' about? Yeah, you don't stop, so L, my man my brother Tear sh** up you bad muthaf**er [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 n***as playin' hard rock, hopin' they might scare The B-I-G-L but I'm not to be f**ed wit' You're tryin' to take your idol's title? You on some bugged sh** I keep the women fiendin' and screamin' for my smooth sh** My rhymes are mad thick and yours is thin as a pool stick f** 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 n***as 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' n***as 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, peace