’98 Freestyle lyrics

[Intro]
One-two, one-two
Kind of tired
Big L about to get into some sh*t
Aight, check it out

[Verse]
Yo, f*ck 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 b*tch 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 f*ck 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 n*ggas 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, f*ck more b*tches than you
Only thing I haven't got is more stitches than you
f*ckin' punk, you ain't a leader, what? Nobody followed you
You was never sh*t, your mother should've swallowed you (Mmm, woo)
You on some tag-along, flunky yes-man sh*t
Do me a favor: please get off the next man di*k
And if you think I can't f*ck with whoever, put your money up
Put your jewels up, no, f*ck it, put your honey up
Put your raggedy house up, n*gga, or shut your mouth up
Before I buck lead and make a lot of bloodshed
Turn your tux red, I'm far from broke, got enough bread
And mad hoes, ask Beavis, I get nothin' but head
My game is vicious and cruel, f*ckin' chicks is a rule
If my girl think I'm loyal, then that b*tch is a fool
How come you can listen to my first album
And tell where a lot of n*ggas got their whole style from? (Yeah)
So what you actin' for? You ain't half as raw, you need to practice more
Somebody tell this n*gga somethin' '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 n*ggas like, "Dammit, this n*gga done done it again"
I throw slugs at idiots, no love for city cops
I sport a pretty watch, eight hunnid and fifty rocks
I'm makin' wonderful figures, I don't f*ck with none of you n*ggas
I might pull out this gun on you n*ggas and rob every last one of you n*ggas
[Outro]
Yeah
What?
Aight
Was somebody tired? That wasn't too bad