Stretch & Bobbito Freestyle (’95)

[Verse 1: Big Pun]
Skip the talk, pull ya guns out
That's when the bitch comes out
The dark, from ya heart
I'll slit ya throat and pull ya tongue out
Fuckin with the best, I'll burn ya flesh 'til there's less than teeth
Dump ya bones in Western Beef
Peace, hope ya rest in grief
Left the wreath on ya grave and autographed it
Big Dawg slaughters pastors during mass
I don't support their masters
Meaning God, I'm hittin hard as hell
Niggas be givin the law an L
When I get finished i'm larger then life but harder to kill
Still I will remain the pain inflicter
Givin ya hell to reign the victor
Comin to get ya, playin the game the same as Hitler
You picked the wrong nigga to fuck with
Talkin that tough shit
You couldn't have been a bigger faggot if ya sucked dick
Duck quick and catch a hundred in ya temples
If ya blunted, test the mentals
And be found drowned with just cement shoes
BITCH!

[Verse 2: Big Pun]
Brothers are rappin like Iraqi soldiers
Actin like they crackin boulders
Wouldn't pack a cap gun or attack a blowfish
Always talkin shit
Players that rather balk than pitch
And often counterfeit
Kings of New York on Mr. Walken's dick
You make me sick to my stomach
You don't really want it
Riffin like you sniffin coke to scare me
But you barely blunted
You really done it, now you got me mad
Boricuas be like: "Papi's bad"
Makin fakers khaki when I'm droppin math
Stop the laugh, that shit was Buttafuoco
Niggas run like Pun's the Cuco
You gon' tell your putos how I blew, you puto
You don't ever wanna clash again with Big Dawg
The master and one of the last rappers [?]