[Intro]

One-two, one-two

Kind of tired

Big L about to get into some shit

Aight, check it out

[Verse]

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 (Mmm, woo)

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' but head

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 their whole style from? (Yeah)

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 hunnid and fifty rocks

I'm makin' wonderful figures, I don't fuck with none of you niggas

I might pull out this gun on you niggas and rob every last one of you niggas

[Outro]

Yeah

What?

Aight

Was somebody tired? That wasn't too bad