Track 2 On
"The Archives 1996-2000" (Mixtape)
Release Date
February 18, 1997

[Hook]
It's time to make power moves and get the chedda
And buy the real nice things that makes life better
No foolish acts, moves must be clever
I'm down for whatever, I gotta blow son, it's now or never

[Verse 1]
I walk through the ruggedest blocks with jewels flooded with rocks
Hustlin' on hot corners that be smothered with cops
I must warn, my Harlem crew roll strong
Word bond, we leave mics torn
Y'all brothers slept too long, now it's on
L Corleone will never flop, records are forever hot
Front on me, you better not
I keep the Barreta cocked
This goes out to my people's up town
Downtown, mid town, across town, and outta town
You see me flossin often, at all the club sites
At the bars buyin Cristals like they bud lights
My style is hard like strong lumber
Dime pieces get the digits, chicken heads get the wrong number

[Chrous]

[Verse 2]
Yo I announce facts
When I get busy over bounce tracks
Droppin lethal raps on wax so I can count stacks
I keep a heavy knot, got a spot on every block
Honeys that’s very hot get slid to the Marriott
95' was a beautiful year for L
Now I'm back and all the ladies still cheer for L
Whatever I write is gonna be tight
Cos if makin' hits is wrong I don't wanna be right
Never the less, the East is were my crew rest
We bust caps that go through vests
We only do what we do best
And that's cripplin' you brittle men
Since you wanna play rough, then say hello to my little friend

[Hook] {X2}

[Verse 3]
I like drop tops when it's hot
I like Lands when it's snowy
Bank account is fat like Joey
I'm not very religious, you wouldn't call me holy
Sometimes my hair’s corn-rowed, sometimes its fro-y
Spark up the you know what, pop the moey
L stay flossin, Presidential Rolly
Y'all brothers know me, I step in parties with minks and fly links
Shorties hittin me with eyewinks as I buy drinks
And every girl I got looks like a model
If you ever see me with a chicken then she must of a hit the lotto
Uptown is my home, and where I roam
I stand alone, Big L Corleone got it sewn
Sellin' weight in and outta state to generate cake
The one jakes hate
Got homicide, runnin' out of yellow tape
I pack toast with infra red scopes, I turn crews to dead folks
If y'all fellas is playas, I'm the head coach

[Hook] {X2}

Word up son It's time to blow
Stack that dough create a better life for me and my fam knaa i mean
I've seen the ghetto all my life, its time i see some different
Get the picture... The big picture

Big L - Now Or Never

Window to a Fathom

Once Upon a Time

LOOK(feat. A Flo) prod. fyksen

Whirlwind Thru Cities

A Tribe Called Quest - Find A Way (Instrumental)

Big L - Street Struck (1995)

I-Power - True (Prod. Melodious Funk) (1997)

Hostyle -  Should A Been Down

No way you'll never make it
Come with the weak shit, I break kids
Step into my zone, mad rhymes will stifle ya
Lines like rifles go blast when I kick some ass
A lot of rappers be like one time wonders
Couldn't say a fly rhyme if there was one right under
Their noses, I hate those motherfuckin posers
But I'm so real to them it's scary
And with my unique skills naw you can't compare me
And no we don't make wack tracks
and all the suckers get pushed back when I'm kickin real facts
I represent set up shit like a tent boy
You're paranoid cause you're a son like Elroy
And you'd be happy as hell to get a record deal
Maybe your soul you'd sell to have mass appeal

Oh yes I'm greater than all MC's when I breeeze give me room please
I be like fascinatin when I be updatin
Cuttin off wack kids, pullin their trump cards
I thump hard, and mak em say that I'm God
Niggaz be pretendin they hardcore
Never know the meaning of [RAW]
But I get props like a slogan and no man
Could ever try to diss when I kicks my jam
Lyrically def and connecting complete mic wrecking
No double checking vocals kill like weapons
But if I have to I go all out with no mic
Yeah that's right cause I survived mad fights
And for my peeps I truly care
Cause without some of them I wouldn't be here
And they all know how I feel
Cause suckers be like playin themselves to have mass appeal

I know I'm dope but don't wet that
I've suffered setbacks but now I'm makin greenbacks
Just like baggy slacks I'm crazy hip-hop
Check one two and you don't stop
Your head'll bop when I drop my crop
of pure bomb, just like the seashore I'm calm
But wild, with my monotone style
Because I don't need gimmicks
Gimme a fly beat and I'm all in it
Word is bond I go on and on
For you it's tragic I got magic like wands
So I'ma end this lecture and I betcha
Those who kick dirt and do time I'm gonna get cha
Cause I be kickin the real
While they be losin the race tryin to chase mass appeal

Gang Starr | Mass Appeal (1994)

Once Upon a Time

TNO