Featured In
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Big L
Vocals
McGruff
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
L. Coleman
Songwriter
A. Best
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
John Shriver
Assistant Engineer
Chris Irish
Assistant Engineer
Dino Zervos
Assistant Engineer
Mack Robinson
Assistant Engineer
Rich July
Mixing Engineer
Tony Dawsey
Mastering Engineer
Tony Smalios
Recording Engineer
Buckwild
Producer
Chris Conway
Engineer
Lyrics
Stealing runs rampant in Harlem
Gambling runs rampant in Harlem
All types of evils and, uh, vices
That tear apart our community run rampant in Harlem
The microphone is through when this rap legend grab it
Sendin' poems to have them faggots diggin' hoes like Reverend Swaggart
L's the **** that crime follows
I'm hittin' fine models and stabbin' punks with broken wine bottles
I beat chumps till they head splits, then break 'em like bread sticks
I sex chicks, I'll even fuck a dead bitch
Always sprayin' TEC's, because I be stayin' vexed
Some **** named Dex was in the projects layin' threats
I jumped out the Lincoln, left him stinkin'
Put his brains in the street, now you can see what he was just thinkin'
I'm chokin' enemies till they start turnin' pale
Satan said I'm learnin' well, Big L's gonna burn in Hell
Front and get scarred 'cause your rap style ain't even hard
I run with a thieving squad, and none of us believe in God
'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
Where no man can withstand or hold his own
'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
Where no man can withstand or hold his own
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's mad stressed '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!"
'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
Where no man can withstand or hold his own
'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
Where no man can withstand or hold his own
'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
Where no man can withstand or hold his own
'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
Where no man can withstand or hold his own
I keep a cutie with a soft booty
Hoes be runnin' up, "Can I get your autograph, L?", no, bitch, I'm off duty
I'm breakin' hottie hearts, **** drop when my shotty sparks
It ain't no food in my fridge, just body parts
I keep the gear fresh, I keep the braids rugged
I never wear rubbers, bitch, if I get AIDS, fuck it!
A beef with me, you better prevent it 'cause in a minute
I'll jump out a tinted rented, and leave a **** body dented
And my swole knob your main girl cold-slobbed
And gave a blow job to my whole mob, with no prob'
Ayo, crazy bitches slept with L
Then they **** got mad and tried to step to L
But I'm sicker than a **** that's in special ed
So I suggest you spread, pretzelhead, 'fore I turn your white sweatsuit red
One-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
Where no man can withstand or hold his own
'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
Where no man can withstand or hold his own
'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
Where no man can withstand or hold his own
'Cause one-three-nine and Lenox is the Danger Zone
Where no man can withstand or hold his own
Written by: A. Best, L. Coleman