’92 Rock N. Wills Audition (Hardpack Tape Freestyle Live on 125th) lyrics

[Intro: Big L]
Yo one two, one two, go 'head, you can drop it

Yeah one two one two, I go by the name of the Big L, ya know what I'm sayin'. Rock this with Rock N. Wills, the hardpack tape, aight it go like this

[Verse 1: Big L]
Ayyo I got the gift o' gab
To lift and grab
The mic
And recite hype rhymes
That'll rip and rag
And drag
A fag MC
Who likes to nag a lot
And brag a lot
Talkin' about the lyrics that he have are hot
Step to this and get lit like a candle troop
Rhymes I hook up, MCs I cook up
Like Campbell's Soup
I throw rhymes like a quarterback
Front and you'll get bust and dust and crushed
Bum rushed and all o' that
Rhymes never sound wack
Cause I got 'em down pat
Your rulin' time is over
So gimme your crown jack
I get hype fast
And MCs might last
A minute with me
Because their rhymes are light as
A feather
And mines are heavy like a big brick
Rappers catch a fit quick
When I start to kick sh*t
And I record my battles on a camcorder
So I can sit back and watch me manslaughter
MCs that tried to get wit' me hops
That's why they all got tooken out like a Bensi box
The crown is still mine cause I kick ill rhymes
A lotta rappers talk that murder sh*t and couldn't kill time
Or beat eggs or whip cream
I'm smoother than Vaseline
And I'm a stone cold rappin' fiend
A lot of new jacks are comin' out, but that's cool
Cause I'm the principal of the new school
Alright check this out, another joint like this…

[Verse 2: Big L]
Yeah, aight, check it out…
I control the microphone like a robot
My lyrics are so hot, props I got a whole lot
Cause wit' a pen and some paper this man makes
Rhymes that're so damn great, with flavor like pancakes
I'm kickin' rhymes like a game of kickball
I'm rough like a brick wall, MCs take a big fall
For tryin' to get with this, I'm too swift with this
A microphone murderer full with magnificence
A def rapper and also a swell one
In a battle I cook MCs well done
My hits are consecutive
I'm a lyrical executive
Bite my rhymes and I won't let you live
So to be safe on the microphone homes
Recite your own poems or get your dome flown
Or put in a boot camp, L is the new champ
I'm not the type to go out like a food stamp
I'm throwin' rhymes like a pitcher throws a, curve ball
And I'm a serve all punks that try to brawl
So stop sleepin' on me, don't even doze hops
Or I'm a heat you up and eat you up like Stove Top
Stuffin', I'm bum rushin', shorts I'm takin' none
My rhymes weigh a ton, I'm not fakin' son
You're the one who's fakin', tryin' to be a duplicate
Can't kick stupid sh*t, tell you the truth, you should quit
Rappin', start snappin', cause all you is a joke
Battle L and get smoked
Yo I overthrow ya and have ya screamin' like a rollercoaster
Guzzle you down like a small cup o' Coca-Cola
I'm goin' through MCs like a ransack
Stand back, as I cruise smooth like a Am-Trak
Your rhymes are rusty g, you can't f*ck with me
That's why you're hidin' in protective custody
L's not the one and I keep MCs runnin'
I hurt 'em like bunions, make 'em cry like onions
I'm a lyrical fighter and I'm brighter than Einstein
Try to bite my lines and you'll get a size nine
Foot put in your ass for bein' a crook
Hit with a vital hook and get your title took
[Big L]
Yeah, I'm a pass it to my man

[Lord Finesse]
Haha, said he got flavor. Yeah you keep that flowin', enjoy baby, you wanna kick some flavor

[Verse 3: Lord Finesse]
Now check it out, I'm a get paid for the nineteen nineties
I don't care who likes me or who stands behind me
The man to peep, far from weak so don't sleep
From stage to streets I still go one deep
So save that off the wall bullsh*t, ya get had son
f*ck around, grab the mic and catch a bad one
I come correct and strapped to bust a ill rap
Me take a loss to who? Ya oughta kill that
Back up, slack up, give a brother some head room
Hype on the mic, amazin' in the bedroom
Girls like me cause I'm straight and don't sidestep
I do sh*t Jack LaLanne ain't tried yet
Ask any female, bet you she'll say I'm good
That's why I'm Finesse, porn star of the neighborhood
Yeah, cause I kick slicker raps
It's Lord Finesse, so bow and tip your hat
And make way cause I get plenty say
And those who don't like me I don't give a sh*t anyway
Cause when it comes to lyrics I always find somethin'
That make brothers press the rewind button
I'm a get mine, tell me what you're gonna do?
Cause ya couldn't see me if ya wanted to
Get who you want, sh*t you could call the cops
But for now, I'm gettin' all my props
I reign terror, whatever's clever
I'm cooler than The Mack and Shaft put together
So chill, don't try to get ill dummy
Me get stomped by who? Be for real, money
I'm not havin' it so go on and get your best group
You'll see why they call me Lord Finesse, troop
I eat 'em like sandwiches, send 'em home in bandages
Gimme that mic, I'll show you what doin' damage is
Nice, swift and deeper than quicksand
I'm takin' out opponents like a hit man
I get the crowd hype like a sorta drug
It's Lord Finesse, who the f*ck you thought it was?
I lounge and chill but still could get ill
I'm live and real with skill beyond skill
Pull girls like a lasso, keep the crazy cash flow
A n*gga beat me on the mic? Don't be an as*h*le
I'm indestructible so bring in a substitute
What's up with a battle? Yo I can't f*ck with you
[Lord Finesse]
Yo it's like that y'all, it's like that-tha-that it's like that y'all
I'm a let my man flip that beat for me
Ya don't stop…I'm gonna kick this last rhyme then I'm gonna pass it back to my man

Keep it flowin'…Got my man Big L in the house. Lord Finesse, for the hardpack, got my man Will in the house, you know what I'm sayin', my man Wick Wise in the house, Rock out there makin' the money, I don't know where Mo at but she on the slow jam tip you know what I'm sayin', we gonna get this flowin' in a minute…aight check it out…Keep this flowin', ya know what I'm sayin'…Here it is, we gonna check it out like this and ya don't stop, now keep it on 'til the break o' dawn

[Verse 4: Lord Finesse]
I'm intellectual, gettin' the best of you
I eat MCs like the food at a festival
Drop science and math; stand tall like a giraffe
Completin' the…task, breakin' rappers in half
Puttin' suckers out of it, yeah I talk a lot of sh*t
But when it comes to rhymes I deserve a f*ckin' scholarship
Won't front or perp the role, I get the most of hoes
I'm so cool, I've got pus*y on remote control
Whether you're a virgin or a bad lookin' hot sister
I'm baggin' up b*tches like a shoplifter
So Lord Finesse is not the one to fool
I was gettin' sex since they first invented Underoos
So set it off, no time to rehearse the rappin'
It's Lord Finesse, so prepare for the worst to happen
Mics get ripped up, good times get tucked
Throw your hands in the air, suckers keep your lips shut
Cause ya'll wanna waste time sayin' them fake rhymes
Gimme my respect and props or I'm a take mine
Cause I ain't nothin' to play with
And f*ckin' with me ya need more than a first aid kit
So it's better that ya chill and max with me
I'm sendin' out warnin's quicker than a fax machine
I get funky and kick it so let's get wit' it
Opponents who think they can hang, y'all can forget it
I sit and write rhymes, makin' up hype lines
Achievin' sh*t you couldn't do in a lifetime
So don't care me and compare me to those other brothers
I'm Lord Finesse and I'm one bad ass muthaf*cker
I'm doin' MCs as ya hire 'em
Bustin' they ass and make 'em sign up for retirement
Without doubt I'm a brother with all the clout
Whoever said I'm wack, what the f*ck is they talkin' about?
Yeah, you don't stop, so L, my man my brother
Tear sh*t up you bad muthaf*cker

[Verse 5: Big L]
Yo I'm the microphone murderer
And I'm known for bustin' mad caps
I was in rag tracks with rhymes that backslap
'causin' a nightmare, I don't fight fair
n*ggas playin' hard rock, hopin' they might scare
The B-I-G-L but I'm not to be f*cked wit'
You're tryin' to take your idol's title?
You on some bugged sh*t
I keep the women fiendin' and screamin' for my smooth sh*t
My rhymes are mad thick and yours is thin as a pool stick
f*ck it, bust it, I like it rough and rugged
Your style is wick wack and played out like nugget
Bracelets, face this, you can't erase this, escape this
Break this, take this, cause I bake this
I get so loose on beats that I produce
n*ggas be frontin' crazy hard and got no juice
They softer than paper plates, the lyrics I make is great
A few sheets of loose leaf and a Erasermate
Is all I need to write rhymes that are extra fly
Mics I wreck and fry, rappers I petrify
Pack a fo' fif' with eight shots
With one you get popped
And now you're locked in a box, dead, with no props
I'm not jokin', there's no time for snappin'
n*ggas that be yappin', I'm puttin' caps in
So base up or get sprayed up to the waist up
You'll get found faced up, police can't trace up
Fingerprints, why? Because I leave no evidence
Big L's the name, one three nine is the residence, peace