My whole clique's theaving
We roam the streets ’cause it's stick season
This ain't the time to have your wrist freezing
I might put the big gat to your six-pack
Click-clack, let me get that
Make it quick, black, fuck the chit-chat
Why y’all test knowing my slugs will fry y'all flesh?
I'm taxing faggots like the IRS
I used to front, now I'm really rich
You silly bitch, push willy whips like the white Volva
Front on Big L, ya life's over
I bought my main girl an ice choker, catch her cheating and I might smoke her
I make the right words blend, I pimp these bitches like I'm Iceberg Slim
And if I go to jail I might sеrve ten
Clowns I disrespеct, throw the gun in they face
Make 'em kiss the Tec, then I snatch the ice off they wrist and neck
You better not budge when I point the semi at you
What's that? A karat in ya ear? give me that too
Shit, I’m takin it all, I’m not leaving a cent
When everything out yo pockets faggot, even the lint
You know the game plan, Lord Finesse that's my main man
We never bring luggage, we go shopping when the plane land
Run with the same clan, used to be a Kane fan
Everything I rock is name brand
L will make ya dame swallow, your ice don’t shine and your chain hollow
While you front in clubs for hours with the same bottle
Taking midget sips, I run with the richest cliques
Fuck the thickest chicks, plus drop the sickest hits
You know nothing about L, don't doubt L
What's this motherfucking rap game without L?
That's like jewels without ice, that’s like China without rice
Or the Holy Bible without Christ, or the Bulls without Mike
Or crackheads without pipes
The village without dykes or hockey games without fights
I never hesitate to buck my gun
139, ya'll know where the fuck I'm from