Stretch and Bobbito ’95 Freestyle

Lyrics

[Intro: Bobbito & Big L] Aight, Big L Pardon the, uh, technical difficulties Check it out (Yeah, ha-ha) Check it out, aight (Woo) Check it out If you wanna put your man on too, you could do it together Aight, aight (Yeah) I'ma set it off like this, check it out Yo, check it [Verse 1: Big L & Bobbito] Yo, I got slugs for snitches, no love for bitches Puttin' thugs in ditches when my trigger finger itches I got a rep that make police jet, known to get a priest wet I never beg for pussy like Keith Sweat Is Big L slow? Hell no Bitches get fucked on the roof when I ain't got no hotel dough I'm known for yokin' Jacks And beatin' them with smokin' gats (Woo) Leavin' token blacks with broken backs and open caps So with that bullshit, step to the rear, son The last thing you want with Big L is a fair one (Ha-ha) 'Cause in a street brawl (Yeah) I strike men like lightnin' You seen what happened in my last fight, friend? Aight then I beat kids with lead pipes (Ah), I leave trails of dead mics Where I'm from, niggas jewels get ran like red lights Old folks get mugged and raided, crimes are drug-related And we live by the street rules that thugs created Clowns get smoked, about a thousand folks are sellin' pounds of coke Front in this town and get a TEC stuck down your throat I'm tellin' you shit is about to get drastic soon I'm quick to blast a goon And break a motherfucker like a plastic spoon I got the looks that make your hottie stare I keep a shotty near It's that nigga with knotty hair who Gotti fear (Ha-ha) Tracks I'm known to roast until the microphone is ghost (Come on) Props I own the most, I'm leavin' niggas comatose Front and get your brain pinched Big L will have your whole gang lynched I started smokin' dust and been insane since (Woo) This rap shit was a great gift The other night some snake riffed, and got a hot lead facelift All through high school I had braids, I kept mad blades Stabbin' teachers to death that gave me bad grades I cook the mic like a beef steak 'cause my technique's great And I'm the nigga police hate in each state 'Cause I'm the neighborhood lamper (Big L, Big L) Punk brother vamper, fuck around You'll find my silk boxers in your mother's hamper (Yeah) Cops drop when my Glock makes the "pow" sound I'm from a wild town You know my style, clown, so bow down [Interlude: Big L, Bobbito, Jay-Z & Stretch Armstrong] Word up (Say what? Say what?) '95 style (Yeah) I got my man Jay-Z here Jay-Z, boy, how you be? Step up to the mic (Step up to the M-I-C) Yo, word up, the single's called "Put It On", it's in stores right now Produced by my man Buckwild (Yeah), and the chorus has got Kid Capri I got a LG remix that ya heard a lil' while ago, word up (Yeah) Jay-Z Stretch—Stretch just wanted to know if that was a condom endorsement Oh, nah, nah, nah, nah Yo, we got Jay—We also got "Da Graveyard", right? That's coming up next? Mhm With Jay-Z on it? But we got Jay-Z in the place, what's up, baby? 'Sup, man? Yeah— I just came up out that hectic party, man (Uh-huh), down at the, uh, the city, man That shit was hectic, man, cops in there with shotguns and all that (Yeah) And that was a R&B party, man, you know? (Yeah) So, I'm tryna relax Well, the plague—the plague is everywhere It was probably Reef, it was probably Reef Yeah, it was probably Mack Daddy Reef, yeah Yo, B, you up here, you know what I'm sayin'? I don't give a god damn who it was, I'm here now Yeah, you do your thing, baby So, you—you want this beat, or you— Yeah, yeah, yeah, that shit—that shit is fine That's good? Check it out now Check it—check it—check it out now Ayo, uh [Verse 2: Jay-Z & Bobbito] Brothers can beg and borrow, still feel sorrow When Jay, Z like Zorro, get in that ass, better luck tomorrow I'm too much, nigga, so never should you rush You need to slow down or get yo' ass tore down Check it out, I'm too cocky, to stop me you gotta kill me And when I'm gone, you can still feel me, on the real, B The shit is eternal, I rock the heavens well Even if they won't let me in Heaven, I raise hell 'Til it's Heaven, recognize the black cat with the nine lives (Uh) Get up off me, nigga, it's bad luck to cross me (Woo) I'm poppin' Cristal, shootin' game like missiles As projected, all hoes affected by this style (Ha-ha, ha-ha) I mack like Goldie, go back like the oldie But the goody, pullin' R&B bitches wearin' hoodies They don't be knowin' the way I be flowin' When I be goin' I be runnin' the track like Jesse Owens I disrupt the natural scheme The way that you do things with a swing And have 'em rockin' like— You say never you run, if ever you come It's never you run so fast in your life to never have won Come on and ride the rhythm, I produce like jizm Just like the gods I start with knowledge, and follow with wisdom For greater understandin', I'm landin' blows And knockin' sense into those that oppose me, ha Enticin' when slicin' through tracks You're screamin', "Jesus Christ, he's back" And God knows he can rap Me and L put rhythm on the map, so give him his dap And me, I just take mine Gimme those, gimme this, gimme that—fuck that! (Ha-ha) You never see me stressed, in a GS On the prize, my greedy eyes can't see no less Jigga incredible, even my thoughts is federal Like kidnappin', extortion and corruption So you know, beatin' me will never come Like a nun or tomorrow, I'm too thorough, nigga I make moves, cause bowels to move When I'm creepin' through your way with a thousand little dudes Armed with a piece like Islam I make your eyes rise like yeast Surprise, I feel no fear when facin' y'all Bet your lyrics jump off the track like racin' cars MCs tryin' to be the best And even in dyin' couldn't be this deaf (Jay-Z, Jay-Z) I see no reason to stop cheesin' Ever since L said, "Throw three Gs in" (Ha-ha) And we can get down and split the wealth That's when I found I could do it myself, I get up [Interlude: Bobbito, Jay-Z, Stretch Armstrong & Big L] Yeah Word, like Big L, try that mic out Yeah, yeah, yeah That was round one Oh, we can keep goin'? Yeah, the mic—the mic—when the mic is open up there, it's open, I don't know We got four hours, no commercials Yeah Bet That mic ain't workin' either, we might have to go back to that one I'll just share that Yeah, back to Big L Yo, one-two, one-two, aight I'll drop one more joint, aight, check it out I ain't do this in a while, check it out One-two, one-two, check it out One-two, check it [Verse 3: Big L & Bobbito] Ayo, my crew be deliverin' hot lead when gats are clenched Rappers I jack and lynch, nobody can fuck with the way I be killin' them shit in rap events Big L is that nigga you expect To catch wreck on any cassette deck I'm so ahead of my time, my parents haven't met yet I'm feelin' like Billy Bathgate My rap style is past great I love to fuck a bitch from the back and watch her ass shake I probably got your mommy strung Niggas hear me and take more notes than Connie Chung My clan plans to get Giuliani hung Never had a gassed head, got loot 'cause I stash bread Try to tax and I'ma beat your faggot ass half-dead I stomp white cops 'til they life stops for a low price, hops 'Cause my blood is colder than an ice box On 1-3-9 you don't want a block war 'Cause my crew'll kill a nigga from the lobby to the top floor And every time my MAC-11 bucks I'm killin' at least seven ducks I never was a follower of Reverend Butts The bitch type I dislike, I'm rougher than a fist fight All chicks ain't shit, ain't no such thing as Ms. Right So we can never be a couple, hun Fuck love, all I got for hoes is hard dick and bubble gum (Yeah) And clown MCs I be attackin' quick I'm on some rappin' shit and some car-jackin' shit I ran up on this nigga named Mac in a black Ac' And put the gat to his cap, click-clack Sorry, Jack, but get up out of that My .38 works great, so make a mistake and hesitate I can't wait to demonstrate this nickel plate He didn't listen to what I was speakin', he started reachin' So I left him sleepin' with his temple leakin' [Interlude: Bobbito, Jay-Z, Big L & Stretch Armstrong] Aight, back to my man Jay-Z, one time It's a lyrical invasion I fucked up on one line, but it's aight Yeah, don't worry about it, L Ayo Hey, watch your mouth, buddy Yeah, wash your mouth out with soap No, no, Jay—Jay, we good, we good Yo, you got—you got a new joint out, you should talk about it, just real quick Yeah Yeah, I'm about to throw both of those on Yeah, pop just said—tell 'em—is this available in the stores for people to buy? It's an independent joint? Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, yeah, it's in some stores But once we lock this distribution thing down, it's gon' be all stores Okay Yeah, just got "Rap Pick of the Week" on BET Tell us what it is It was shot in like two or three weeks, this is called "In My Lifetime" And what—on what label? Roc-A-Fella Records Roc-A-Fella Records, alright Yeah, so we doin' real good, everything— So go out and support Jay-Z, he's one of the originators Yeah Yeah Yeah, I do that Come on, baby I gotta do some shit that everybody familiar with, 'cause, uh, everywhere I go they be wantin' to hear this joint Uh, check it out, uh [Verse 4: Jay-Z & Bobbito] As soon as I grab it, I eat it up like a savage And no I don't have it I get it together like a marriage I'm seekin' all rappers, I'm on my Ps and Qs and carrots Y'all don't understand, well, god damn, don't y'all know my status? I'm flowin' the fattest Mmm that is, mmm, I'm the baddest No need to explain, my name the only thing that matters For suckers who bite me, they find I'm a bit much to swallow You're thinkin' that's hollow The rhythm is too r-rugged to follow It hit you like bam, biggity-bam, bam, biggity-bam Let me take a little breath… god damn (Ha) The kid is a wizard I'm definitely destined to make eight digits Met up with Ls on the road to riches As soon as I step up, nah, whenever I'm in the— Uh, whatever I touch, whatever I clutch You know I'm gonna end ya Uh, the nigga don't play, hey, the nigga don't play, hey (Ha-ha-ha) Here I come a-g-g-gain, run, up-up-up in Niggas are du-do-duckin', I'm boo-boo-buckin', fuck it, I'm wild (Woo) But a boo-boo-boo-bam What you niggas gonna do to the man? I see you brought your little crew… and? I'm still comin' with velocity (Ha-ha) Check it out, Jid-a, id-a, wid-I, zid-e, eh-heh Ain't none of these clowns fuckin' around Ain't none of these clowns standin' their ground With the crown prince of the underground Sounds like I'm ready to catch wreck now The heats on sweat now Jay-Z's on, be gone to the next town Punk, jump up and get beat down Check it out, check it out, check it out Ladies be comin' out of their seats now Shit, I got crazy skills It's a pity the way I'm rippin' rugged rhythm through the city Like dun-dun-dun, dun-dun-dun, dun-dun-dun, dun-ditty I got rhythm, I hit 'em with rhythm, I Hit 'em and split 'em, I did 'em, I get rid of them guys J-A, baby, baby please, gimme Gs Baby, baby, with crazy ease, watch Jay-Z get crazy Gs [Outro: Jay-Z, Bobbito & Big L] Yeah, ha I'm tired, too, fuck it Not yet He's on the album too, word up Yeah, we gon' play that joint right now