I got styles you can't copy bitch, it's the triple six
in the mix, straight from H-E-double-hockey sticks
Every Sunday, a nun lay from my gun spray
Fuck Carlito, we doin' shit the Devil Son's way
Every minute, my style switches up, they said a real man
won't hit a girl well I ain't real cause I beat bitches up
I use words that's ill, L got nerves of steel
I'm cool, but every now and then I get a urge to kill
I'm takin lives for a great price, I'm the type
to snap in heaven with a Mac-11 and rape Christ
And I'm fast to put a cap in a fag chest
The Big L smash stress, cause hell is my address
I'm on some satanic shit, strictly, little kids
be wakin up cryin, yellin, "Mommy Big L is comin to get me!"