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Intro: |
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Uh, The uptown connec' is very powerful |
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What we need to do is |
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Build somethin, so powerful |
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And nobody can fxxk with us |
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See what I mean? |
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Okay, fxxk those ****roaches |
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Mase: |
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Yeah, check it out |
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Here come Mase, the muthafxxkin' Big L |
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My n1gga gruff, 'bout to bring it to you ******s |
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So when this sh1t drop |
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Y'all n1ggas be ready to go for your guns, n1gga |
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Check it out, 1-2 |
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Hit em one time, yo, yo |
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Verse 1: Mase |
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Yo, I barely know you |
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But the way you front, make you wanna blow you |
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You rappin, but you local, my sh1t is goin global |
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N1ggas ain't ready, nah, fxxk figures that petty |
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I want bricks so thick, you cut em with machetes |
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Any n1gga met me know I'm bout gettin cheddy |
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Ain't nothin fancy, settle for 1500 chevy |
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I watched my man get banned tryin to plan scams |
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Done ran grams on a pan am to san fran |
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We want the money, so it's a must we get paid |
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I puff in the shade, rock clothes custom-made |
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Send bricks to papi, be big as liberacce |
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You don't believe me? n1gga, watch me |
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Unfold your phone and call up all your soldiers at home |
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Tell em you saw mase in rolling stone holdin a chrome |
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Now he probably out in a poconos strokin hoes |
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Smokin those, celebratin, open the mo's |
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A cool guy, even a cool guy can't get too high |
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Even his boo'll try to set him for his moolah |
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The cops take us to where a cell block await us |
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I watch my capers clock and paper rock on glaciers |
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Yo L, I ain't got to tell you what to do, man |
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Big L: What up, what up? - M: Just lace them n1ggas |
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Big L: Aight, you know how we gon' do this - M: Word up, dun |
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Big L: Harlem nyc style, B.I.G. style |
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MVP style, Baby, check it out |
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Verse 2: Big L |
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Check it, I got more papers than the new york post |
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Packin toast, this host is quick to roast the mic, then I'm ghost |
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I'm not a soprano like that italiano sammy gravano |
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Mc's be gettin knocked off like Paulie Castellano |
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This little menace be guzzlin hennessy |
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Props from here to tennessee, police wanna finish me |
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You know I hate jakes, they mad cause I make papes |
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I'm large like the great lakes, with drxg spots in 8 states |
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Chillin, makin sure this money is right |
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Sippin sunny delite, hittin every honey in sight |
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Playboy, tracks I like rough, ain't that right, gruff? |
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I might puff some green sh1t, but no white stuff |
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I shoot the gift like a quick fix, front and get your sh1t stitched |
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I drop slick hits (go l) get off my ****, b1tch |
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When I was broke, you ain't wanna see me get rich |
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Now I kill tracks and flip bricks and murder nitwits |
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And I'm all about big bankrolls, clothes and hostin shows |
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Smokin foes and strokin hoes in the Poconos |
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Without cash you ain't meant to live |
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Signin out corleone, the uptown representative |
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Hey yo, gruff, man, this is yo track, man |
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What you waitin for? Rip this sh1t |
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Verse 3: McGruff |
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Yo, now my life somethin finer |
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It wasn't when I was a minor |
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See, but now I'm pumpin china |
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White, n1gga, yeah, right out the diner |
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For this sh1t here I could get time in either |
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Facility, locked up where all the villains be |
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Make your first move if you're bored of grillin me |
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from harlem world, take care of your mob and your girl |
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Too much dom, gruff can't starve in this world |
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.38 revolve with the pearl |
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My wolves hollerin at the moon as the earth revolve in a twirl |
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Blood thirst, n1gga with dough get rushed first |
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Get him, a thug search, tell him these slugs hurt |
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Do you in, hooligans, timbs and rough shirts |
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Bust jerks, better duck when gruff ******s |
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Leave n1ggas in more pain than when your **** hurt |
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Give n1ggas the business, done-done much dirt |
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|
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Alright, alright, you see what I'm talkin about? |
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That's what I'm talkin about |
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Who started this? Uptown |
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Who made this? Harlem |
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Soon the whole world will behind |
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Everything's sugarless, baby, now okay |