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'98 Freestyle Lyrics
One-two, one-two
Kinda tired
Big L, 'bout ta get into some shit
Aight 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 niggaz 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 shoulda swallowed you
You on some tag a long flunkie 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 blood shed
Turn your tux red, I'm far from broke, got enough bread
And mad hoes, ask Beavis I get nuttin' Butt-head
My game is, vicious and cool
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 niggaz got they whole style from?
(YEAH!) So what you actin for?
You ain't half as raw, you need to practice more
Somebody tell this nigga sum'un, '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 niggaz like, "Damnit this nigga done done it again"
I throw slugs at idi-ots, 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 niggaz
I might pull out this gun on your niggaz
And rob every last one of you niggaz
Kinda tired
Big L, 'bout ta get into some shit
Aight check it out
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 niggaz 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 shoulda swallowed you
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 blood shed
Turn your tux red, I'm far from broke, got enough bread
And mad hoes, ask Beavis I get nuttin' Butt-head
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 niggaz got they whole style from?
(YEAH!) So what you actin for?
You ain't half as raw, you need to practice more
Somebody tell this nigga sum'un, '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 niggaz like, "Damnit this nigga done done it again"
I throw slugs at idi-ots, 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 niggaz
I might pull out this gun on your niggaz
And rob every last one of you niggaz
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