🎵 Stretch and Bobbito ’93 Freestyle // by Big L

18 ContributorsStretch and Bobbito ’93 Freestyle Lyrics Big L was a frequent guest on the Stretch & Bobbito show. This is the session from ‘93 (October 28th to be exact) when Big L killed Diamond D’s You Can’t Front beat.… Read More  [Intro: Bobbito & Big L] *yet to be transcribed* [Verse 1: Big L] You better flee hops, or get your head flown three blocks L be keepin’ niggas hearts pumpin’ like Reeboks It's the nigga that bitches suck and sweat Faggots I buck and wet, disrespect and I'ma break your fuckin’ neck I'm known to put a cap in a duck face I spray guns, fuck mace, I'm a nutcase from a rough place It's called Uptown, front and get bucked down Walk through with jewels on, that ass'll get stuck clown I got styles you can't copy, bitch, it's the triple six in the mix Straight from H-E double hockey sticks I'm the devil's son, like my song said I smash niggas like cornbread You can't kill me, I was born dead I wet shit up like a floodage Me and my crew peel caps and carry gats like it's luggage I'm nowhere near trash, so step to the rear fast Before I have your queer ass cryin’ like tear gas Every year I gain clout and my game sprout Some niggas'll still be virgins if crack never came out The Big L's hard to kill, when my squad gets ill You better guard your grill, before you get scarred for real Big L is a large boss Known for puttin’ more holes in a nigga body than a golf course I'm crazy quick to knock a duck off I'll pull out then buck off And tear a nigga grill right the fuck off You'll get smoked like a Phillie fast ‘Cause your shit is really trash Fuck around, I’ll swing on ya silly ass It's Big L the crime converter Sayin’ peace to all the niggas in jail doin’ time for murder I wreck the mic, plus the whole stage Rockin’ cornrow braids I'm killin’ muthafuckers like old age Known to have a hottie open I keep a shotty smokin’ Front and get half the bones in ya body broken I never false teach, so listen as the boss preach I only rock leathers by Marc Buchanan and North Beach I'm makin’ rap hits, I snap flicks at mack chicks Just the slim ones, you won't see L with no fat bitch Yo I'm the nigga that they call A.W.O.L Punks, I slay all, on my spare time I play ball In the playgrounds, I spray clowns with trey pounds Makin’ gs from transportin’ kis on Greyhounds My shit is kickin’ like a sensei I'm smoother than Ben Gay Comprende? I'm outtie like M.J So Herb McGruff, my mellow, my nigga Get on the mic and pull the MC trigger [Break: Herb McGruff] Yeah, one, two and you don’t stop Alright, we gon’ keep it going like this, yo, ayo [Verse 2: Herb McGruff] It’s the murder man, call my bluff, god, I run with a rough squad Mad motherfuckers know McGruff hard Ayo, for those that try to thump, dead I’m known to pump lead when I get fed, in a chump head You catch a beef with the Gruff, your career is fitch When my finger itch, funeral parlors start getting rich I beat you down with a fat bat Then let my gat splat your brains out your dome, holmes, and that’s that I bounce through the streets like titties flop I like to ditty bop, shoot up city cops Plus, I load the Smitties, hobbes Ayo the Gruff kicks flav’ the best, I’m sick like Dave Koresh Sending chumps to they graves to rest Step to this, and you’re getting done with a spitting gun I’m not in a car, but it’s a hit-and-run I call my murders, “The Hits of Pain” The way I kill, yo, it’s insane, bloodshed and put your brains All over the street floors, you mad, you gon’ meet yours When these hot slugs from my heat pours How I’m living? Mighty fucking large And if your name’s on my hit-list, bitch you better duck and dodge I’m black and I’m amped to hurt a clan It’s Herb McGruff, ducks, the motherfucking murder man [Break: Bobbito, Big L, & Herb McGruff] Word, yeah Big L, what’s up, baby paw? What’s up? Chilling, yo (Woo!) Ayo, I gotta say peace to the NFL Crew The BBO Crew, you know what I’m saying? Gotta say peace to Big Twan, you know what I’m saying? His man, Terra, the whole Eastside Assassins, you know what I’m saying? Everybody (Word.) Wanna kick another verse, yo? (I got another one) Nah, I’m chilling, I’m chilling, I’m chilling Ahh, well that’s alright, cause you was up here a month ago— Yo, my man Herb wanna drop again, yo, go head, Herb Yeah, go head, Herb, you can get one more verse as like a bonus, you know what I’m saying? Like on a pinball machine Alright, alright, y’all Check it, yo, one, two, and you don’t stop Ayo [Verse 3: Herb McGruff] It’s Herb McGruff, representing the Big App’ The nig’ that who pull trig’s back, and blow a pig’s cap Cause where I’m from, ayo, your life ain’t worth a quarter, hops Niggas fall like water drops, police show, we slaughter cops The Big App’ is where dope get cooked in broke homes And that ain’t no joke, holmes, so turf, you gotta smoke domes I’m from a place in the Apple called Harlem 139 & Lenox Ave, but if you want, catch a fucking problem Motherfuckers know I’m one hype Nigga who’s ready for a gunfight, so you better come right If you don’t, then that’s your luck Cause my gat’ll buck your faggot ass for acting up Catching motherfuckers in the morning When niggas be sleeping, yawning, hit up they cribs with no fucking warning Cause that’s when they least expect it, and when shit get hectic I don’t care if you police protected, nigga Shooting up cops and all Then I’m popping y’all, til y’all motherfuckers drop and fall I’m not the type to be joking, check I give out broken necks, hit up coke and x with my smoking TECs And all the punks know the deal As long as I’m in this rap shit, I’m for the motherfucking real [Outro: Bobbito, Big L, & Herb McGruff] Yeah, and you don’t stop NFL Crew in the motherfucking house, word That’s my man, check him out on the album What’s the name of your album, L? Lifestylez Ov Da Poor N Dangerous True, true, well, alright, yo