Lyrics:

[Big L] Yea yeah, Flamboyant Entertainment (no doubt) 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 P.M. 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 bags 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 Wword u