Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 98 Freestyle, artist - Big L. Date of issue: 10.06.2000
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
98 Freestyle |
| One-two, one-two |
| Kinda tired. |
| Big L, 'bout ta. |
| get into some shit |
| Aight check it out |
| Yo, fuck all the glamours and glitz, I plan to get rich |
| I’m from New York and never was a fan of the Knicks |
| And I’m all about expandin my chips |
| You mad cause I was in the van with your bitch |
| with both hands on her tits |
| Corleone hold the throne, that you know in your heart |
| I got style, plus the way that I be flowin is sharp |
| A while back I used to hustle, sellin blow in the park |
| Countin G stacks and rockin ice that glow in the dark |
| Forever — hottie huntin, trigger temper I’m quick to body somethin |
| You lookin at me like I’m probably frontin |
| I fuck around and throw, three in your chest and flee to my rest |
| I’m, older and smarter this is me at my best |
| I stopped hangin around y’all, cause niggaz like you |
| be prayin on my downfall, hopin I flop |
| Hopin I stop, you probably even hope I get locked |
| or be on the street corner with a pipe, smokin the rock |
| I got more riches than you, fuck more bitches than you |
| Only thing I haven’t got is more, stitches than you |
| Fuckin punk, you ain’t a +Leader+ what? |
| Nobody +Follow-ed+ you |
| You was never shit, your mother shoulda swallowed you |
| (Mmmm. WHOO!) You on some tagalong flunkie yes man shit |
| Do me a favor, please get off the next man dick |
| And if you think I can't fuck with whoever, put your money up Put your jewels up, no fuck it put your honey up Put your raggedy house up nigga, or shut your mouth up before I buck lead, and make a lot of |
| blood shed |
| Turn your tux red, I’m far from broke, got enough bread |
| And mad hoes, ask Beavis I get nuttin Butt-head |
| My game is, vicious and cool |
| Fuckin chicks is a rule |
| If my girl think I’m loyal then that bitch is a fool |
| How come, you can listen to my first album |
| and tell where a lot of niggaz got they whole style from? |
| (YEAH!) So what you actin for? |
| You ain’t half as raw, you need to practice more |
| Somebody tell this nigga sum’un, 'fore I crack his jaw |
| You runnin with boys, I’m runnin with men |
| I’ma be rippin the mics until I’m a hundred and ten |
| Have y’all niggaz like, Damnit this nigga done done it again |
| I throw slugs at idi-ots, no love for city cops |
| I sport a pretty watch, eight-hundred and fifty rocks |
| I’m makin wonderful figures |
| I don’t fuck with none of you niggaz |
| I might pull out this gun on your niggaz |
| and rob every last one of you niggaz |
| YEAHHH! |
| (What?) |
| I’m TIRED |
| For somebody tired, that wasn’t, that wasn’t too bad! |