Emerging from Harlem, New York in the early to mid-1990s, Coleman became well known amongst underground hip-hop fans for his freestyling ability, and was eventually signed to Columbia Records, where he released his debut album, Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous in 1995 and is now considered by many fans as a classic album. On February 15, 1999, Coleman was shot nine times and killed by an unknown assailant in a drive-by shooting in his hometown of Harlem.
Noted for his use of wordplay, multiple writers at AllMusic, HipHopDX and The Source have praised Coleman for his lyrical ability, and he has also been described as "one of the most auspicious storytellers in hip hop history." Regarding Coleman's legacy, Nas said on MTV, “He scared me to death. When I heard that on tape, I was scared to death. I said, ’Yo, it’s no way I can compete if this is what I gotta compete with.'
Lamont Coleman was born in Harlem, New York City, on May 30, 1974, the third and youngest child of Gilda Terry (d. 2008) and Charles Davis. Davis left the family while Coleman was a child. His two older siblings, Donald Coleman and Leroy Phinazee (d.2002), were the children of Gilda and a man named Mr. Phinazee. Coleman received the nicknames "Little L" and "'mont 'mont" as a child. At the age of 12, Coleman became a big hip hop fan and started freestyling with other people in his neighborhood. He founded a group known as Three the Hard Way in 1990, but it was quickly broken up due to a lack of enthusiasm amongst the members. It consisted of Coleman, Doc Reem, and Rodney. No projects were released, and after Rodney left, the group was renamed Two Hard Motherfuckers. Around this time, people started to refer to Coleman as "Big L". In the summer of 1990, Coleman met Lord Finesse at an autograph session in a record shop on 125th Street. After he did a freestyle, Finesse and Coleman exchanged numbers.
Coleman attended Julia Richman High School. While in high school, Coleman freestyle battled in his hometown; in his last interview, he stated, "in the beginning, all I ever saw me doing was battling everybody on the street corners, rhyming in the hallways, beating on the wall, rhyming to my friends. Every now and then, a house party, grab the mic, a block party, grab the mic." He graduated in 1992.
On February 15, 1999, Big L was killed at 45 West 139th Street in his native Harlem after being shot nine times in the face and chest in a drive-by shooting. Gerard Woodley, one of Big L's childhood friends, was arrested three months later for the crime. "It's a good possibility it was retaliation for something Big L's brother did, or Woodley believed he had done," said a spokesperson for the New York City Police Department. Woodley was later controversially released, and the murder case remains unsolved.
Big L is buried at George Washington Memorial Park in Paramus, New Jersey.
On June 24, 2016 at 139th St. and Lenox Avenue, Woodley, 46, was shot in the head and later died at Harlem Hospital.
Coleman is often credited in helping to create the horrorcore genre of hip hop with his 1992 song "Devil Son." However, not all his songs fall into this genre, for example, in the song "Street Struck" Coleman discusses the difficulties of growing up in the ghetto and describes the consequences of living a life of crime. Idris Goodwin of The Boston Globe wrote that "[Big L had an] impressive command of the English language", with his song "Ebonics" being the best example of this.
He was notable for using a rap style called "compounding". Coleman also used metaphors in his rhymes. M.F. DiBella of Allmusic stated Coleman was "a master of the lyrical stickup undressing his competition with kinetic metaphors and a brash comedic repertoire". On the review of The Big Picture, she adds "the Harlem MC as a master of the punch line and a vicious storyteller with a razor blade-under-the-tongue flow." Trent Fitzgerald of Allmusic said "a lyrically ferocious MC with raps deadlier than a snakebite and mannerisms cooler than the uptown pimp he claimed to be on records.
8 Iz Enuff
Big L Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
My crew is in the house
Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless
Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie
And I'mma set it like this
Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked
You better surrender before you get smoked
I put chumps to rest fast, when my Smith-Wes' blast
So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed
Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews
Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse
I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk
So stay alert, no smirk, cause these knuckles hurt
I'm from the alley, not the valley
I'm hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry
And fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle
I revive crowds with live styles
Don't hang with jive pals
Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'
Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave
Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave
In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks
Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed
Innovated, rappers you know who made it
Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated
This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter
Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter
I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare
Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer
Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up
Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts
For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff
I'm on some murder stuff
And when I talk every verb is rough
Front on this and get beat bad
With big bats that bruise, break bones
Then wind up bloody in a bodybag
MC's are live, but I'm mad liver
Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a African cab driver
Step to this and get sliced with ease
Ate up like rice and peas
(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these
Ask the nigga in my last bout
He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out
Microphones I gotta tear
Peace to Big L, straight from hell
I'm the fuck up outta here
Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic
Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic
I rag crews cause I'm bad news
In a mad mood I'm serving brothers quicker than fast food
Step to this and get your body blown
Cause I'm no maricon, for poems I slide the hotties home
Here's some advice, I'm mad nice
Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice
And cold take a fag's life
My swellin melon got niggas jealin
Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon
Yo, I bust chumps like a Glock 10, when I drops in
The top ten is rocked when it's locked in
I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow
Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show
I got lines that's deeper than a jail
Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail
Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me
Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me
You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off
I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off
And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out
For dissin, you come up missing like a cub scout
Rappers be funny like Flex, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son
Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun
But Killa Kam, I get erratic when it comes to static
There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic
Increase the peace that cease cause once I release
My crew from the east, we leavin at least
20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack
So make tracks, I break backs
I jack with def gats and black macs
On Lenox Ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks
Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took
I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser
I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer
Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead
Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead
In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys
And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali
And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse
I'm in a daze and I'm so confused
From seein heads shake so many times the lead make
And Mike Boogie's next up, and keep my head straight
I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest
Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat
Cause they know when I start droppin' poems
That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones and sendin' niggas hoppin' home
Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this
So if you're come to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches
And niggas, I dont' need a gun for you, none of you
Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my Number 2
And it's death in every paragraph
And niggas learn when I burn their muthafuckin' ass to ash
No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend
I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a Mac-10
And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed
And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike
Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough
Peace to Big L, ayo, 8 is enough
True, true
And before I get up outta here
I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man
Brothers that was there since the beginning
What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew
Peace to Mase Murder and the B.B.O. Crew
The Best Out Crew, the M&M Crew
And all the other crews that's representin in Harlem
You know what I'm sayin?
And last but not least
I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew
My crew
Word up
The lyrics to Big L's song "8 Iz Enuff" are a mix of boastful rhymes and threats against anyone who crosses his crew. He starts off by warning those who quote his lyrics that they could get choked for disrespecting him. He then goes on to brag about his skill with a gun and how he can put chumps to rest fast with his Smith-Wes'. He warns that he has a short fuse and becomes berserk when he puts in work, so everyone should stay alert.
As the song continues, different members of his crew step in to rap their own verses, including Terra, Herb McGruff, Killa Cam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie. They all bring their own unique styles, with some boasting about their murder skills, while others highlight their funky rhymes. Each member of the crew shows off their skills on the mic, proving that their crew is indeed "enough" to handle whatever comes their way.
Overall, the song is a showcase of the lyrical skills of Big L and his crew. They prove that they are a force to be reckoned with and that they are not to be crossed.
Line by Line Meaning
Yo
Greetings
My crew is in the house
My group of friends is here
Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless
People I am associated with
Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie
Additional members of my crew
And I'mma set it like this
I am ready to begin
Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked
People who imitate my words are silenced
You better surrender before you get smoked
You should give up before facing defeat
You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?
Do you underestimate me?
I put chumps to rest fast, when my Smith-Wes' blast
I defeat opponents quickly with my firearm
So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed
Leave or cross boundaries and face severe consequences
Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews
I adhere to the principles of New York rap and exploit other groups
Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse
Do not anger me, as I have a quick temper
I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk
I become wild and aggressive when engaging in activities or illegal actions
So stay alert, no smirk, cause these knuckles hurt
Remain cautious and serious, as my punches are painful
I'm from the alley, not the valley
I come from a rough neighborhood, not a peaceful one
I'm hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry
I am more intense and skilled than California artists, like the infamous Harry Houdini
And fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle
I have no interest in mediocre companionship, I'd prefer a relationship with Halle Berry
I revive crowds with live sytles
My energetic performances captivate the audience
Don't hang with jive pals
I do not associate with insincere friends
Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'
Goodbye, I'm moving on to bigger and better things
Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave
Hello, I'm Flav, and I was involved in criminal activities
Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave
Now I have changed my lifestyle and focus solely on rap
In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks
In 1987, I sold drugs and made money
Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed
I carry guns, and I've killed someone
Innovated, rappers you know who made it
I have introduced new ideas to the rap genre, unlike other successful artists
Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated
Inform Terra to keep producing high-quality rhyme schemes
This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter
Terra's skills are unmatched, precise and dangerous
Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter
You are an inferior rapper, and I will demolish your lyrics
I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare
I am unique, the best in the rap battle
Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer
I will kill you and send you to the morgue before you can say your last prayers
Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up
I hit hard with power, and Terra follows with a strong performance
Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts
Unfortunate events occur, as people face the consequences of their actions
For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff
For those who are unaware, I am Herb McGruff
I'm on some murder stuff
I am involved in violent activities
And when I talk every verb is rough
I speak with aggression and intensity
Front on this and get beat bad
Challenge me and face severe physical harm
With big bats that bruise, break bones
Using large bats, I cause severe injuries and fractures
Then wind up bloody in a bodybag
You end up covered in blood and placed in a bag
MC's are live, but I'm mad liver
Other rappers are talented, but I am exceptionally skilled
Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a African cab driver
My lyrics are more groovy and captivating than those of an African taxi driver
Step to this and get sliced with ease
Engage with me and get easily defeated
Ate up like rice and peas
Consume and destroy like a popular Jamaican dish
(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these
(Herb, can you fight?) Yes, I am highly skilled in combat
Ask the nigga in my last bout
Inquire with the person I recently fought
He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out
He underestimated my fighting abilities, and I had to prove him wrong by defeating him
Microphones I gotta tear
I dominate and excel in microphone performances
Peace to Big L, straight from hell
Shoutout to Big L, from a similar background as mine
I'm the fuck up outta here
I am leaving this place
Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic
Now it's time to be bold and daring, but may God bless the amazing
Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic
Herb handed me the microphone, and now I deliver an incredible performance
I rag crews cause I'm bad news
I dominate and intimidate groups because of my dangerous reputation
In a mad mood I'm serving brothers quicker than fast food
In an aggressive state, I defeat opponents faster than fast food is prepared
Step to this and get your body blown
Approach me and face severe harm
Cause I'm no maricon, for poems I slide the hotties home
Because I am not weak, I successfully attract attractive women with my poetry
Here's some advice, I'm mad nice
Let me offer you some guidance, I am highly skilled
Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice
I swiftly fire my gun twice
And cold take a fag's life
Without hesitation, I end the life of a homosexual
My swellin melon got niggas jealin
My inflated ego makes others envious
Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon
I have no interest in accepting bribes, I am willing to take lives like a repeat offender
Yo, I bust chumps like a Glock 10, when I drops in
I defeat weak opponents with the same efficiency as a Glock 10 pistol
The top ten is rocked when it's locked in
The rap industry is impacted and impressed when I enter the scene
I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow
I dominate the rap flow effortlessly, without the need for any external help
Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show
I slowly overpower the beat, and my lyrics captivate and impress the audience
I got lines that's deeper than a jail
My lyrics have a profound and meaningful impact
Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail
I have always been strong, and when my opponents fail, they suffer severe consequences
Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me
Yes, I am skilled and powerful, too formidable to be insulted
Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me
Try to attack me, well, that's futile, so don't even bother asking
You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off
If any conflict arises, you would be eliminated
I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off
I am always aggressive, and I carry a shotgun to enforce my dominance
And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out
When I fire bullets, you will experience extreme pain
For dissin, you come up missing like a cub scout
If you disrespect me, you will disappear like a young scout
Rappers be funny like Flex, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son
Other rappers try to be comical like Flex, but their performances are weak and lack substance
Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun
They boast about firearms but have never even used a water gun
But Killa Kam, I get erratic when it comes to static
However, Killa Cam becomes unpredictable and aggressive when confronted with conflict
There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic
That's me, a passionate user of automatic weapons
Increase the peace that cease cause once I release
Promote peace, as I bring an end to violence
My crew from the east, we leavin at least
My crew from the East is always victorious
20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack
We have killed 20 police officers, demonstrating our ferocity
So make tracks, I break backs
Leave immediately, as I inflict harm
I jack with def gats and black macs
I rob others using powerful guns and weapons
On Lenox Ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks
On Lenox Avenue, it's dangerous, so you should only challenge criminals
Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took
I will hit you with punches from all angles, and if you provoke me, you will lose your life
I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser
I am experiencing intense mental anguish, similar to a demon from Hell
I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer
I am creating new paths and breaking barriers even from within prison cells
Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead
I am someone who discovers crimes and uses bullets to resolve them
Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead
I kill individuals who engage in homosexual activities
In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys
I conduct illegal activities in hidden locations, which I refer to as drug-infested neighborhoods
And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali
I possess more weapons than the violent uprisings in California
And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse
People are curious about why I easily become angry
I'm in a daze and I'm so confused
I am disoriented and lacking clarity
From seein heads shake so many times the lead make
I witness numerous violent incidents that have scarred my memory
And Mike Boogie's next up, and keep my head straight
Now it's Mike Boogie's turn to perform, and I need to remain focused
I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest
I am so skilled that competitors avoid participating in contests when I am present
Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat
People quickly leave the area, fearing for their safety
Cause they know when I start droppin' poems
They are aware of the impact my lyrics have
That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones and sendin' niggas hoppin' home
I strike heads, break bones, and defeat opponents with such force that they quickly retreat
Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this
It's extremely difficult for a homosexual to challenge me
So if you're come to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches
If you plan on confronting me, be prepared for severe injuries
And niggas, I dont' need a gun for you, none of you
I do not need a firearm to defeat any of you
Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my Number 2
I can fatally harm you with the bullets from my pencil
And it's death in every paragraph
Each line I write contains death and violence
And niggas learn when I burn their muthafuckin' ass to ash
They quickly realize the consequences when I completely destroy them
No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend
There is no doubt about my skills, it's a proven fact
I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a Mac-10
I deliver extraordinary talent, just like Santa Claus delivers presents
And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed
Other rappers are not even close to my level, so they are easily defeated
And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike
They are killed, as they cannot compete with my skills
Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough
Now I am in a hurry to leave, after ensuring that I left an impression
Peace to Big L, ayo, 8 is enough
Shoutout to Big L, as we have reached the end of this song
True, true
That's absolutely correct
And before I get up outta here
Before I leave this place
I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man
I want to give a shoutout and express my good wishes to D-Whiz and Short Man
Brothers that was there since the beginning
Friends who have been by my side since the very start
What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew
Greetings to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew
Peace to Mase Murder and the B.B.O. Crew
Greetings to Mase Murder and the B.B.O. Crew
The Best Out Crew, the M&M Crew
Greetings to The Best Out Crew and the M&M Crew
And all the other crews that's representin in Harlem
And all the other groups that are showing Harlem pride
You know what I'm sayin?
Do you understand what I am saying?
And last but not least
Lastly, but equally important
I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew
I want to give a shoutout and express my good wishes to the 139th Street NFL Crew
My crew
My group of friends
Word up
Understood
Lyrics © Royalty Network
Written by: ANTHONY BEST, LAMONT COLEMAN
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@nitodadongamo3791
Yo
My crew is in the house
Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless
Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie
And I'mma set it like this
Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked
You better surrender before you get smoked
You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?
I put chumps to rest fast, when my Smith-Wes' blast
So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed
Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews
Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse
I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk
So stay alert, no smirk, cause these knuckles hurt
I'm from the alley, not the valley
I'm hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry
And fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle
I revive crowds with live styles
Don't hang with jive pals
Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'
Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave
Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave
In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks
Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed
Innovated, rappers you know who made it
Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated
This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter
Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter
I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare
Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer
Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up
Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts
For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff
I'm on some murder stuff
And when I talk every verb is rough
Front on this and get beat bad
With big bats that bruise, break bones
Then wind up bloody in a bodybag
MC's are live, but I'm mad liver
Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a African cab driver
Step to this and get sliced with ease
Ate up like rice and peas
(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these
Ask the nigga in my last bout
He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out
Microphones I gotta tear
Peace to Big L, straight from hell
I'm the fuck up outta here
Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic
Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic
I rag crews cause I'm bad news
In a mad mood I'm serving brothers quicker than fast food
Step to this and get your body blown
Cause I'm no maricon, for poems I slide the hotties home
Here's some advice, I'm mad nice
Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice
And cold take a fag's life
My swellin melon got niggas jealin
Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon
Yo, I bust chumps like a Glock 10, when I drops in
The top ten is rocked when it's locked in
I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow
Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show
I got lines that's deeper than a jail
Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail
Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me
Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me
You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off
I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off
And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out
For dissin, you come up missing like a cub scout
Rappers be funny like Flex, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son
Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun
But Killa Kam, I get erratic when it comes to static
There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic
Increase the peace that cease cause once I release
My crew from the east, we leavin at least
20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack
So make tracks, I break backs
I jack with def gats and black macs
On Lenox Ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks
Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took
I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser
I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer
Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead
Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead
In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys
And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali
And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse
I'm in a daze and I'm so confused
From seein heads shake so many times the lead make
And Mike Boogie's next up, and keep my head straight
I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest
Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat
Cause they know when I start droppin' poems
That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones and sendin' niggas hoppin' home
Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this
So if you're come to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches
And niggas, I dont' need a gun for you, none of you
Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my Number 2
And it's death in every paragraph
And niggas learn when I burn their muthafuckin' ass to ash
No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend
I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a Mac-10
And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed
And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike
Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough
Peace to Big L, ayo, 8 is enough
True, true
And before I get up outta here
I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man
Brothers that was there since the beginning
What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew
Peace to Mase Murder and the B.B.O. Crew
The Best Out Crew, the M&M Crew
And all the other crews that's representin in Harlem
You know what I'm sayin?
And last but not least
I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew
My crew
Word up
@brandonvice4234
Big L's opening verse is just god tier. If only he had that full track to himself, the others went hard, but big L went nuclear.
@salineaddict9850
I always thought of that. L just went mental on this beat and got one verse. Everyone killed it, but Big L murdered this joint.
I still think about someone remixing this song and using the whole 5+ minute instrumental to spit a banger. I dream too much
@billycherokee7630
I love every verse on this song. They all use their own unique flows and I don’t think there’s a best verse.
@PTO_Finesse
Big L one of my favs of all time, but that last verse was cold affffff too
@PTO_Finesse
Cam too, talking bout 9’s and Techs and never shot a water gun 🔥🔥
@alzero120z
Na herb was on his shit ngl
@janicetaylor7247
This is just so...good. Love the way everything just flows and everybody can spit! Hiphop at its finest. And this beat is entrancing.
@randyorlando67
💯 love that cold blooded NY sound
@ximenalopez3232
@Sean Patterson good time t
@mrbacon6089
Only Big L can rip up a Christmas sounding beat.