Big L – Holdin’ it Down

[Big L]

Yea yeah, Flamboyant Entertainment (no doubt)

Yo, y’all fellas like to stress them chicks

Impress them chicks, spend money to dress them chicks

I sex them chicks and send them home

Corleone is known to be stoned

When I bone, I’m rubbered up in case that shit full blown

The other night around 8 P.M.

Pockets crazy slim, jumped out the gray BM

Went to the ATM, took a thou’ out

then later on I had to wild out

In the club, knock some coward and his pal out

Then afterwards went to the restroom, pissed Cristal out

Now I’m thinkin – which chick number I could dial out

Cause it’s L, the Harlem pimp baby, for real

I got more dimes than that Sprint lady

And that’s ill, playa haters be givin me harsh looks

but I’m tryin to sell records like Garth Brooks

So eff ’em all, when it’s cold I throw the skelly on

Illegal chips keep my celly on

Mega-ice is what I’m heavy on

If it ain’t Cristal boo, I guess it’s Perignon

If the na-na’s too tight, I throw some jelly on

Yo try to tax and watch the nine mill burst

I’ve been off the scene over three years

and cats is still thirst – to hear Big L drop an ill verse

So all you unsigned cats that want to battle;

get a deal first – I sport the bulletproof, fitted hat

That attitude – you better get rid of that

Wherever you floss is where you gon’ get it at

What? I stay strapped, I go to sleep with my steel

Makin figures while you broke cats keepin it real

L is rap’s most livest cat

I’m gettin stacks while you askin people,

“Do you want fries with that?”

I rob fags in the staircase, no mask, bare-faced

The one police wouldn’t dare chase

Keep my gear laced – do I walk around without papes? No way pal

Wword up – my money longer than the OJ trial

Chorus: Miss Jones

Harlem world keep holdin it down, for Big L

Nigga long overdue – niggaz wanna know,

do you still got it got it? (“It’s so amazin’!”)

Yeah yeah yeah.. Harlem world keep holdin it down, for Big L

Nigga long overdue – niggaz wanna know,

do you still got it got it? (“It’s so amazin’!”)

[Stan Spit]

Stan Spit, yo, uh

Yo what the hell y’all can tell Spit? Not shit

I did a flick and bounced on L’s shit

Well shit, expect me to go platinum

That’s the only reason why I’m rappin

And since L passed, niggaz expect me to make it happen

with no release date, I sell in each state

I’m the type to drive to Philly, for a cheesesteak

So what I’m a Harlem king, doin my thing

My name ring – chains and dames what the fame bring

After platinum it’s the same thing

And niggaz’ll never learn

til I pull the steel and make they lover burn

You don’t get another turn, game’s over

Here’s my flamethrower

Rearrange your Rover, Harlem soldier

Wait til I get older – and we won’t stop

I thought Mase told ya

Nigga Stan he do what he gotta

And these haters can’t do me nada

Be in Nevada, with a lot of enchilada

Chorus

[A.G.]

Yo, yo move the fuck, A bring the heat, when I touch tracks

These niggaz beef then wanna chill? Fuck that

These rap niggaz with the mills, we deduct that

I asked all my ghetto cats, where my love at

Now where the brews, and the drugs at?

Corrupt cats kept slug hats

Asked the feds where the bugs at

Puff with the dread, cause I puff black

High, til I die, and you can trust that

All I wanna know – is the club packed?

I see the haters sweatin shorty, but I dug that

She put my nutsac, back where her lungs at – little hoe

And them niggaz who owe, give up that

Huh, it’s me and Corle’, like Eddie and OT

Go ‘head and provoke me

Heard you rap, wanna rhyme? Better be dope B

Still “Diggin”, still livin, still givin

y’all the ill written, still fuckin like Bill Clinton

Chorus 2X

[A.G.] Big L..