Danger Sequel by Big L
Danger Sequel by Big L

Danger Sequel

Big L * Track #7 On L Corleone (Compilation)

Danger Sequel Lyrics

[Verse 1: O.C.]
Yo, I’m looking
For the big C-notes like Al Pacino
Here’s a new slang word: you pussino
What it means is just that: PUSS
My nickname to some, know me as Mush
Fly like a Testarossa, my God
Do not attempt to diss me and my squad
Digging In The Crates crew click, my brother
I’m on the mic, Big L is on the other
For those that know me, indeed I flow
Maneuvers like shells bust from a Luger
Satisfaction, I bring the action
Blowing your backs in with only a fraction
A mic set mindset, O.C
Design this finest, rap lord, Your Highness
Pulsating, vibrating, shorty wop
On the dancefloor with the hips gyrating, come here
Ass swinging like a chandeliеr, like
A cat in heat with her ass all up in thе air
Bust this. Who said I can’t cut the mustard?
Rapping is a bitch, boy, and I got a lust for it

[Hook: Mr. Cheeks (of Lost Boyz)] (x2)
If you
Want it, you got it. Us cats collect the chips and bag them
Chicks that’s exotic, getting money every day, and plus
The pockets stay knotted (Knotted!). Those that violate the rap
Game, you have just been spotted (Spotted!). Uh

[Verse 2: Big L]
I be that
Smooth cat you never seen rolling with clowns, one of the
Few from Uptown that’s holding it down. Hoes is
On me like I’m welfare—even rich ones that live in
Bel Air. Is this Big L year? Hell yeah, word up
I use a chrome gat to push domes back. Watch how you
Talk when you call me—Feds got the phone tapped. This rap game
I put my life in it, chain got mega ice
In it, push an Infinite, chrome rims light-tinted
You can see, pal, it’s all about me now
Twenty G’s a show, punk, three thou’ just to freestyle
I made this cheese, it didn’t grow on trees
Can you hold something? Sure, you can hold on these. Yo, I’m
Fat like the old crayon, smooth as rayon
L is who the ladies stay on (Yeah, baby, play on)
I chew chumps like chew-sticks, known for dropping new hits
I know you want me, ho. If I was you, I’d want me too, bitch!

[Hook: Mr. Cheeks (of Lost Boyz)]
If you
Want it, you got it. Us cats collect the chips and bag them
Chicks that’s exotic, getting money every day, and plus
The pockets stay knotted (Knotted!). Those that violate the rap
Game, you have just been spotted (Spotted!). Uh

[Verse 3: O.C.]
Time to show who get it on like so
Derived from nature, so I’m pure like snow
Brown-skinned nigga with a low-cut Caesar
Traveling the world with my name on a visa as said
O.C. legendary al-
-ready, rhyme flow cut like a machete
First-time rappers, I bust your cherries
Bitch, hold still so I can put it in steady
The more you squirm, the more pain I’ma inflict
She stayed still and let me pump this dick
Microphone raw-digging, almost won’t fit in
I’m still hard when I’m busting off semen
Semi, y’all in my way. OK rhymes
Are gay, I’ma make you a M.I.A. ‘cause I
Find you not an itsy-bitsy bit raw, I’ma grind
You like the bicuspidses in my jaws
When I rock, it feel like you’re being fucked on
All fours, this ain’t meant for the stores
This is for the niggas in the clubs with thug mugs
And for the chicks thinking they’re cute with ug’ mugs
Step off!

[Interlude: Mr. Cheeks (of Lost Boyz)]
Get the fuck out of here. Know-your-lane shit with your same shit, hahaha

[Verse 4: Big L and O.C.]
[Big L]
I rock
The blue-faced Prezzie, pockets heavy with cheddie
I met these two lezzies in a Chevy Betty and Desi
They like to ménage à trois, then blasé blah
With L Corleone ‘cause I’m a suave star
[O.C.]
Yeah, no
Doubt, baby pa, platinum rings, mean niggas
Looking at my ice from the chain it swing. In the
Party, pop Dom, lamping like a Don
Low-key, smiling at the bitches with my gold teeth
[Big L]
You can’t
Fuck with the Crates ‘cause we’re just too hot, so all that
Mess you pop, I suggest you stop, quit
While you’re ahead ‘cause you ain’t built like that, better chill
‘Cause, on the real, cats get killed like that
[O.C.]
(Mmhmm) Two
Crisp-type figures, clean-cut niggas
Plushed-out cribs, rock twin Ac’ Vigors, living
Life to the fullest, getting rich ain’t far, chilling with women
Bagging dough, avoiding sluts and scars

[Hook: Mr. Cheeks (of Lost Boyz)]
If you
Want it, you got it. Us cats collect the chips and bag them
Chicks that’s exotic, getting money every day, and plus
The pockets stay knotted (Knotted!). Those that violate the rap
Game, you have just been spotted (Spotted!). Uh

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