[Verse One: Big L]
I walk through the ruggedest blocks
With jewels flooded with rocks
Hustlin' on hot corners that be smuggled with cops
I must warn, my Harlem crew roll strong
Word bond, we leave mics torn, y'all niggas slept too long now it's on
L Corleone'll never flop, rap style's forever hot
Front on me you better not, I keep the Berreta cocked
I got more papers than a New York Post
Packin' toast, this host is quick to roast a mic then I'm ghost
I'm not a soprano like that Italiano Sammy Gravano
MCs is gettin' knocked off like Paulie Castellano
This little menace be, guzzlin' Hennessy
Props from here to Tennessee, police wanna finish me
I run with cliques, pushin' luxury whips
Who be callin' chicks on Motorola flips, with illegal chips
Don't sleep troop, it's a fact I keep loot
Dime bitches be all over Big L like a cheap suit
The rap veteran, hot beats is the medicine
Niggas'll never win, in a battle, cause I'm better than
Ninety percent o' them, front and death'll be your minimum
The grave is where I'm sendin' 'em, clowns, like Mack 10 and 'em, uh!
I'm from the East Coast, this is how we roll in New York
A bunch of rowdy niggas holdin' the fort
Jackin' creeps, packin' heat
These Harlem streets is for keeps
Much love to all my peeps who got covered with sheets
And uh, where I be dwellin' at snitches get killed
On the real side, I probably fucked more bitches than Wilt, nigga
In clown hearts I put a lotta fear
One love to Fat Joe and 560 Gear, I'm outta here
Yo Herb McGruff, yo my mellow, my man
Ayo uh, grab the mic and do the best ya can…
[Break: Herb McGruff, (DJ Iroc)]
Uh, yeah (It’s the Roc, nigga!)
Check it out, Check it out (560!)
This how it go down, in my town (Herb McGruff)
Ayo, check it, check it
[Verse Two: Herb McGruff, (DJ Iroc)]
All in my fetty block, niggas steady clock, ready rock
Narcs and them marks surveillin’ the parks with binocs'
They on the roof too, tryna see who's who
Know what my crew do, kill batty bwoy like Buju (Yeah)
Front if you want kid my crew'll do you
Run with cats that's coo-coo, Just To Get A Rep like Guru (Yeah)
I'll pull the heat out
Make you leak in your pants
Niggas be soft; sweeter than a weekend in France
Bow, now dance, your coward ass don't stand a chance
When you romance, probably have a man named 'Lance'
Why you fakin'?, knocked yo' ass out in Green Haven
Cupcake, used to watch my drawers upstate
Yo, I’mma squirt you, put you in the dirt, too, And spurt you
Gruff gon' hurt you, And make yo' black ass turn purple
Back of yo' head gon' have a circle (Yeah)
Homicide; Live on News 1, interrupt, commercial
For half a million, I'll clap you and your children
Leave y'all in the back of abandoned building
Show no emotional feelings, tote toast for peelin'
Boxcutter razor slicin' yo' throat for squealin'
Cold roof, jackin' niggas
Takin' funds like a toll booth, livin' a life of crime through my whole youth
Trust me never, get thirst chains like fuckin' weather
Rob you, and we was just together
Herb McGruff a dummy, be on some bullshit for the love of money
Is this why stuff get funky, nigga?
[Outro: Herb McGruff]
Yeah, nigga, peace to all my motherfuckin’ wolves, in Harlem nigga, representing
Fuck all them other niggas, yo, fuck ‘em
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