Holdin’ It Down, Andre the Giant, Party Arty - Big L lyrics

Yo, y'all fellas like to stress them chicks
Impress them chicks
Spend money to dress them chicks
I sex them chicks and send them home
Corleone is known to be stoned when I bone
I'm rubbered up in case that shit full blown
The other night around 8 PM
Pockets crazy slim, jumped out the gray BM
Went to the ATM, took a thou' out
Then later on I had to wild out in the club
Knock some coward and his pal out
Then afterwards went to the restroom
Pissed Cristal out
Now I'm thinkin - which chick
Number I could dial out
Cause it's L, the Harlem pimp baby, for real
I got more dimes than that Sprint lady
And that's ill
Playa haters be givin me harsh looks
But I'm tryin to sell
Records like Garth Brooks so eff 'em all
When it's cold I throw the skelly on
Illegal chips keep my celly on
Mega-ice is what I'm heavy on
If it ain't Cristal boo
I guess it's Perignon
If the na na's too tight
I throw some jelly on
Yo try to tax and watch the nine mill burst
I've been off the scene over three years
And cats is still thirst - to hear
Big L drop an ill verse
So all you unsigned cats that want to battle
Get a deal first - I sport the bulletproof
Fitted hat
That attitude - you better get rid of that
Wherever you floss is where you
Gon' get it at what? I stay strapped
I go to sleep with my steel
Makin figures while you broke
Cats keepin it real
L is rap's most livest cat
I'm gettin stacks while you askin people
"Do you want fries with that?"
I rob fags in the staircase, no mask
Bare-faced
The one police wouldn't dare chase
Keep my gear laced - do I walk
Around without papes? No way pal
Word up - my money longer than the OJ trial

Harlem world keep holdin it downnnnn
Big L, Be The Long overdue (Big L)
Do you still got it got it?
("It's so amazin'!")
Yeah yeah yeah harlem world
Keep holdin it down, for Big L
Nigga long overdue - niggas wanna know
Do you still got it got it?
("It's so amazin'!")

Them lil' niggas that be rapping
On my block'll diss you
If you not official, when i cock the pistol
Lick a shot and hit you, spit
The ox and rip you, plot to get you
Nigga fuck boxing with you
Brothers can't believe how the
Skills have gotten
And I'm still mad plottin'
The big apples mad rotten the rap cocking
I'm that hot and my gat popping
I rap with the black stocking cap
Over my face taking over the place
Put the toast in your face open the safe
Gimme the money the sculpture and the vase
I run with niggas that'll throw a
Of coke in your face
Niggas'll sign anything when that
Dough in your face
I put two in your asshole
Tryna ruin my rap flow
I spit like I'm chewing tobacco
We stack dough
And pack fo' in the Range Rover
Party Arty the flamethrower, game over

Yo, yo move the fuck, A bring the heat
When I touch tracks
These niggas beef then wanna chill? Fuck that
These rap niggas with the mills
We deduct that
I asked all my ghetto cats, where my love at
Now where the brews, and the drugs at?
Corrupt cats kept slug hats
Asked the feds where the bugs at
Puff with the dread, cause I puff black
High, til I die, and you can trust that
All I wanna know - is the club packed?
I see the haters sweatin shorty
But I dug that she put my nutsac
Back where her lungs at - little ho
And them niggas who owe, give up that
Huh, it's me and Corle', like Eddie and Nolte
Go 'head and provoke me
Heard you rap, wanna rhyme? Better be dope B
Still "Diggin", still livin, still givin
Y'all the ill written
Still fuckin like Bill Clinton

Big L