(We gonna rock a little something like this -- Repeat 4x)
I don`t wanna ill, I just wanna chill
And keep my hand around a 100 dollar bill (Repeat 4x)
Sitting and thinking about the time I wrote four stacks of rhymes
For dimes, made me wanna go back to doing crimes
On the corner, but the street life? Hotter than a sauna
So I don`t think I`m gonna, plus the fact I was born to
Nigga to hit the land with the mic in hand and
SP and hit it like (huh) Dizzy Gillespe
And this is how I do, not three or two
But one nigga from Queens for the hip-hop fiends
All over, gas a honey up to let me unclothe her
And this time around check how I get down
As I go the extra mile, raised in Carlyle
Born up in Harlem, ever since been destined for stardem
So move over bacon, it`s the anti-faking
Beatmaking nigga that makes the Earth quake and
Let the man push through, others are left without a clue
Large Professor in the house one two
I don`t wanna ill, I just wanna chill
And keep my hand around a 100 dollar bill (Repeat 4x)
About as deadly as a nine, hit a rock man kind
Like a landmine with the ill shit that I design
Professor, keeping sucker chump crews under pressure
Like this girl I know, but yo, I can`t stress her
Cause I`m cool like that, matter fact even cooler
Opposite of sun ruler, having nothing to do with Arula and Keena
You can catch me joyriding on Cocina
As I keep the compotition mind up in between a
Rock and a hard place, and just like a car chase
I`m action packed with the drama of Scarface
I`m real, honey`ll hit me off with a meal
And I`m out so I can get me a stout, what`s it all about?
Trying to stack off a contract, Jack
And stay black, as long as I can keep that intact
Ain`t a damn thing stopping the one that keep ya hopping
Do you wonder what I`m dropping?
I don`t wanna ill, I just wanna chill
And keep my hand around a 100 dollar bill (Repeat 4x)
So strap up for the return of the brother that earn
Props, but this time, I got to get more burn, hops
So record company man, please give me a push
So I can swing to higher levels of life like a kids and wife
And I`ll deliver, for a while I didn`t give a
Frustrated for fucking with the snakes that slither
But nevertheless, in 3-D`s Large Profess
With what I would call a bullshit-proof vest
And yes, I make the beats you could feel in your chest
And write the rhymes that reflect a young man blessed
With the mind and motivation hitting your station
Coming back to attack off a ghetto vacation
For the hip-hop nation
I don`t wanna ill
