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One-two, one-two | Kinda tired | Big L, 'bout ta get into some shit
One-two, one-two Kinda tired Big L, 'bout ta get into some shit (Uh) a'ight check it out Yo, fuck all the glamours and glitz, I plan to get rich I'm from New York and never was a fan of the Knicks And I'm all about expandin' my chips You mad 'cause I was in the van with your bitch With both hands on her tits Corleone hold the throne, that you know in your heart I got style plus the way that I be flowin' is sharp A while back, I used to hustle, sellin' blow in the park Countin' G stacks and rockin' ice that glow in the dark Forever hottie huntin' Trigger temper, I'm quick to body somethin' You lookin' at me like I'm probably frontin' I fuck around and throw three in your chest and flee to my rest I'm older and smarter, this is me at my best I stopped hangin' around y'all 'Cause niggas like you be prayin' on my downfall Hopin' I flop, hopin' I stop You probably even hope I get locked Or be on the street corner with a pipe, smokin' the rock I got more riches than you, fuck more bitches than you Only thing I haven't got is more stitches than you Fuckin' punk, you ain't a leader, what? Nobody followed you You was never shit, your mother should've swallowed you You on some tag-along, flunky yes-man shit Do me a favor, please get off the next man dick And if you think I can't fuck with whoever, put your money up Put your jewels up, no, fuck it, put your honey up Put your raggedy house up, nigga, or shut your mouth up Before I buck lead and make a lot of bloodshed Turn your tux red, I'm far from broke, got enough bread And mad hoes, ask Beavis, I get nothin' Butthead My game is vicious and cruel, fuckin' chicks is a rule If my girl think I'm loyal, then that bitch is a fool How come you can listen to my first album And tell where a lot of niggas got they whole style from? So what you actin' for? You ain't half as raw, you need to practice more Somebody tell this nigga somethin', 'fore I crack his jaw You runnin' with boys, I'm runnin' with men I'ma be rippin' the mics until I'm a hundred-and-ten Have y'all niggas like, "Dammit, this nigga done done it again" I throw slugs at idiots, no love for city cops I sport a pretty watch, eight-hundred and fifty rocks I'm makin' wonderful figures I don't fuck with none of you niggas I might pull out this gun on your niggas And rob every last one of you niggas Yeah, what
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