Represent

Refrain: ("I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick")

Yeah, Big

L is the first to represent.

Verse One:

Big L Yo, on the mic is

Big L, that brother who kicks flavs,

God. Known for sendin' garbage

MCs to the graveyard.

I pack a gat, not a slingshot; step to this and get an ass-whoopin' like

Rodney King got.

Or get beat to your death like

Cochise, my laws is no peace, ************ the police.

MCs get braggin' about cash they collect, but them chumps is like

Ray Charles, cuz they ain't seen no money yet.

Trash rappers

I tax and spark,

I be wettin' ************s up like water rides at

Action Park.

A ************ stuck me, and that ain't funny son, so

I got money gun, they wet him and his honey bun.

Cuz phony ************s

I froze, it's a fact,

I flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows.

L is the rebel type,

I'm rough as a metal pipe, ************ a

Benz, cuz

I could pull skins on a pedal-bike.

Props, I got the most, no

MC comes close,coast-to-coast, shows

I host, foes

I roast, adios,

I'm ghost...

Refrain Verse

Two: D'Shawn

Yo, street ? in

New York is a place this ************ stands with a machete

I'm a crazy

Eddie Scissorhands.

Born with such a thirst to kill,

I can tap 200 quarters from a $50 bill.

Cuttin' ************-************s down with a hundred pound axe like

I was raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks.

So in a battle

I be stabbin',choppin'

MCs like trees, piece-by-piece buildin' cabins.

I'm a maniac magician, abra cadabra, makin' pain appear cuz

I'm-a grab arusty chain to make a noose to choke your ass so hard, you're spittin' ******'

Adam's Apple juice.

So come check the magic show by

Deshawn, and witness the way

I put you to death with a magic wand.

Turnin' your home to a casket, turn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard.

Cuz I love to keep

MCs sufferin', beggin' for big, heavy bags of

Bufferin.

Baseball battin' 'em, splattin' 'em, so many homicide records, my cases went platinum.

D'Shawn is nice; known for givin' out head cracks without touchin' dice.

Just pain and punishment from the

Boogie Down

Bronxter...

D'Shawn the maniac street mobster.

Refrain Verse

Three: Lord

Finesse It's the

F-I-N-E-double-

S-E, don't play or stress me

Cause that ************t don't impress me

I make papes off the ************t

I create, and then dictate

So get your mother****** ************t straight

I got skills and

I'm hard to kill,

So y'all ************-ass rappes better chill and just guard your grill

You grab a mic and always get hype

Talkin bout ****** ************z up

When you can bearly beat your ************ right

So stop ridin my dilznick cause

I can still kick the ill ************t on the mother****** real tip

Hit like Foreman when

I'm brawlin

Those who think

I'm fallin,

I'll play your monkey-ass like a organ

I got crazy ************s in the city noid

Got mad *******, but it's not cause

I'm a mother****** pretty-boy

I'm ruthless,

I'm not on that goody-goody tip

That ************t played out with that

Beat Street/

Electric Boogie ************t

I'll stomp any rapper that you ??? if they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat

And go 'head with they master plan

Stevie Wonder probably see me 'fore half you rappers can

You can't hang and you're fallin fast

You rappers that's trash better dash and start haulin ass

Cuz I'm out to rag ************t

************ up a show, collect my dough and step off with a bad ************

Spectators always have the best time

When they come to a show and hear a funky

Lord Finesse rhyme

I'm out to get bigger, lounge and make rich figures

You'll never catch

Finesse associating with ************ ************z

I work overtime when it's time to go for mine

Crab-ass rappers, don't even front cuz ya'll know the time

So it's time for me to step

Peace to Showbiz and

AG and I'm off to the left

Refrain Verse

Four: AG Check-check-check it.

A to the G is gonna wreck it.

On stage, on my record, so ************ don't forget it.

I'm the man.

The one-man-band is on my right hand. (His name is Show nitwit, so get wit the program)

I get a hit from my buddha blessed.

Turn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best.

I like my pockets fat, never ever flat.

************s wanna jack, my .45 ain't havin' that.

Hoes get no dough, so why try?

Think it's gonna be a hit 'n' run?

Wrong, it's a drive-by.

************s catchin' tantrums,because your girl's never safe around the

Midnight Phantom.

They predicted

I'm-a fall; they must be down with

Michael Jackson cuz that ************t is

Off The Wall.

You don't believe me, ask that brother

Show: snatchin' hotties, grabbin' hotties, lettin' ************ know.

You come wrong if you don't come strong...

YOU BETTER

CATCH WREC

K! ************,

I made the song.

Styles will vary, they won't carry over.

Don't ************ with no

Devil, I'd rather marry

Oprah. Yeah, you got it,

I'm pro-black, and my skills are so phat,

I pay my dues,

I don't owe jack.

You bite my style,

I can spot it.

Tryin' real hard to get it, you can forget it, because you don't got it.

And my skills are excellent.

Diggin' in the

Crates and it's time to

Represent!

Refrain