*Scratch* Champion Sound...
*Scratch* Champion Sound...
*Scratch* Champion Sound...
[Verse 1: C-Town]
I be that Harlem World party pleaser
You might catch me on one-three-nine sippin' a Bacardi Breezer
That's where I rest at, killin' tracks is what I'm best at
Jealousy? I expect that, I don't stress that
I want a cutie with some tight jeans on, that I can scheme on
Treat her nice, take her out, and trick some cream on
TV screens all over the U.S. I'm seen on
It ain't all about me, I'm tryin' to put my team on
'Casue it's good to have a crew to lean on, mics I fiend on
You think you can do it like this? Dream on
I'ma chrome my rims and ice my chain
Fly clothes and pretty hoes is the price of fame
[Hook: Big L]
Ayyo, gats we bust, backs we crush
Only hot tracks we lust, crazy stacks we clutch
We need plaques to touch, that say platinum plus
Cause half of you niggas that's rappin' now is wack to us
[Verse 2: Big L]
Yo, fuck all the glamours and glitz, son 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 bitch
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 fuck around and throw, three in your chest and flee to my rest
I'm, older and smarter this is me at my best
And I stopped hangin' around y'all, cause niggas 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, fuck more bitches than you
Only thing I haven't got is more, stitches than you
Fuckin' punk, you ain't a leader what? Nobody Followed you
You was never shit, your mother shoulda swallowed you
*Scratch* Champion Sound...
*Scratch* Champion Sound...
[Verse 1: C-Town]
I be that Harlem World party pleaser
You might catch me on one-three-nine sippin' a Bacardi Breezer
That's where I rest at, killin' tracks is what I'm best at
Jealousy? I expect that, I don't stress that
I want a cutie with some tight jeans on, that I can scheme on
Treat her nice, take her out, and trick some cream on
TV screens all over the U.S. I'm seen on
It ain't all about me, I'm tryin' to put my team on
'Casue it's good to have a crew to lean on, mics I fiend on
You think you can do it like this? Dream on
I'ma chrome my rims and ice my chain
Fly clothes and pretty hoes is the price of fame
[Hook: Big L]
Ayyo, gats we bust, backs we crush
Only hot tracks we lust, crazy stacks we clutch
We need plaques to touch, that say platinum plus
Cause half of you niggas that's rappin' now is wack to us
[Verse 2: Big L]
Yo, fuck all the glamours and glitz, son 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 bitch
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 fuck around and throw, three in your chest and flee to my rest
I'm, older and smarter this is me at my best
And I stopped hangin' around y'all, cause niggas 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, fuck more bitches than you
Only thing I haven't got is more, stitches than you
Fuckin' punk, you ain't a leader what? Nobody Followed you
You was never shit, your mother shoulda swallowed you
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