Big L — Rock N. Wills Audition

[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 shit 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 shit 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 shit, 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 fuck 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 [Verse 3: 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 Niggas playin' hard rock, hopin' they might scare The B-I-G-L but I'm not to be fucked wit' You're tryin' to take your idol's title? You on some bugged shit I keep the women fiendin' and screamin' for my smooth shit My rhymes are mad thick and yours is thin as a pool stick Fuck 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 Niggas 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' Niggas 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