DJ Premier Blog » New Unreleased Big L & O.C. Freestyle at Blackout Show (1997)

New Unreleased Big L & O.C. Freestyle at Blackout Show (1997)

Who’s a hip hop junkie like me? (Clearly the whole hip hop world the day I posted that lol) It’s always cool to hear a new freestyle from my favorite mc. This one is recorded when Big L & O.C. visited Zagreb, Croatia in 1997. They visited the Blackout Show that was hosted by Phat Phillie. Word is that there is more material of that visit. Enjoy:

Shout out to zibla01 and my homie Phat Phillie who’s still running Croatia!

R.I.P. Big L, Legendary!

[Big L]
Yeah.
Yeah, yeah.

[O.C.]
Yeah, yeah.

[Big L]
Get your tape recorders ready.
Nah mean? Big L, O.C.
Set it off like this, check it out.

[O.C.]
What, what, what, what, what, what?

[DJ Phat Phillie]
Bang!

[Big L]
I be puffin’ blunts in the house, hittin’ stunts on the couch.
This year, crazy cats gon’ get punched in they mouth.
When your wife see me, she don’t know how to act,
so don’t be mad when I blow out her back. For real.
Your whole crew’s a buncha poo butts, made a few bucks,
J’d a few sluts, then ya’ll started runnin’ your lips a little too much.
Got chedda to blow, pockets never get low.
Chickens sweat me wherever I go.
Me and O.C. be in the Lex’, Cartier specs, Nautica sweats,
Gore-Tex, with Presidentials on, full of begets.
I done sold coke, sold crack, sold smoke, sold smack,
now I wanna gold plaque, can I get a soul clap?
Some cats be col’ whack.
You got the lye? Well brother, roll that.
And if it won’t get my high, then hold that.
I’ma cop me a six, and cruise through the block with your trick.
I’ma keep droppin’ them hits, it won’t stop ‘til I’m rich.

[O.C.]
Any mic I hold in the grip of my palm,
I wave it over the crowd, dictating shit like Genghis Khan.
Nonchalantly deliver the flow like drug traffic,
scolding, bringing somatic to this rap shit.
Bona fide. Mic set, you can’t see me on it.
Master the art, so now I just flaunt it.
Born to live a life and die, but ’til then,
I’ma keep on writing slick rhymes with the pen.
I take the cherry from a beat like a virgin havin’ innocent.
Bust my nut, bring rhymes to life like Genesis.
Poetical renaissance, endeavors are flawless,
tearing it up when it comes to me picking up this cordless.
One of New York’s finest,
on this trip, I coincide with beat minus.
Bringing out the best in me,
we formulatin’ like a recipe.
Water and dough, but sure ’nuff,
bestow me presence,
then I’m divine like the seven.
Keeping it tight, ’cause what I suffice is raw nigga.
It’s only right.

[Big L]
Like that, yo.

[O.C.]
It’s like that, ya’ll.

[Big L]
On the Blackout Rap show, with my man Phat Phillie.
Check it out, uhh.
We about to get into a verse like this.
Check me out, y’all.

[DJ Phat Phillie]
Hmm-mmm.

[Big L]
Yeah, yeah.
A couple of years ago, before the year nine-fo’,
my cash flow was low, I was low on dough.
Used to try to talk to fly girls, and they was like: No!
I knew that all of that would change once I started to blow.
Now my pockets are bloated, because I exploded,
stay devoted, dropped a hot album, now I’m loaded.
I hang with fly stars, buy cars, for fifty-thou’.
The New York City child, thug with a pretty smile.
I love this rap game, that’s why I married it,
it’s a big load, but somebody gots to carry it.
At one point I was about to give up,
then got offered a record deal, and my eyes lit up.
In 1992, boo, my dream came true.
First I got the fame, then the cream came, too.
Word up, I used to rhyme all the time,
whoever thought that slim kid from one-three-nine
would shine down the line, huh?
I used to sell cracks, now I sell tracks.
Listen up, ’cause when L raps, he tell facts.
I’m the type of cat to lay wack MCs to rest,
I was told to work hard to achieve success.
Words of wisdom from my father,
he said: L, when things ain’t going so well,
don’t give up, try harder.
And never be afraid to make mistakes,
and don’t spend your cash foolishly, save your papes.
Cause good things come to those who wait they turn.
Stay concerned, cause it’s a lotta papes to earn.
And help those that’s less fortunate then you.
And stay true to whatever you do, until you’re through.

[O.C.]
Yo, uhh.
O.C.’s illin’, I will never, ever bore you.
O.C.’s illin’, I will never, ever bore you.
To rock like I do, it takes certain zest,
I’m truly untouchable, like Elliot Ness.
See, my word and verse is fly. One moment tranquil,
then the next minute it goes with the strength to kill.
I can rock a party right, all night, just trust me,
not an MC out there who can touch me.
Anywhere I go, young ladies, they rush me.
When I’m on the mic, no way in hell you can hush me.
My mere presence will leave you in awe,
and when I’m through you too will call me pa-pa.
Now is the time to settle this vendetta,
slicin’ MCs like a Swiss-cheese shredda.
If you don’t like Swiss, then I cut you like chedda.
Thick, slow and quick, great pain it will inflict.
The beat’s on time and the cuts all click.
Elegant, never meant, I loves to invent.
If you heard me say I rock, this is what I meant:
I don’t shriek, I speak, I could never be weak.
I got the crowd overwhelmed with my rap mystique.
I’m shrewd, never booed, I wear the MC crown.
When I step in the place, MCs, they bow down.
Suckas I will smash, they’re not fit for the class.
Yo, when I get on the mic, they pray _________.
Cause my sonic, atomic MCs get more ‘ronic.
Chillin’ with Big L, we like: It’s bionic.
Charismatic, emphatic, bass has no static.
Strungin’ off the rhyme like a cocaine addict.
Nothing but tears, call O.C. the leader,
def rhyme writer, fake MC defeater.
Girlfriend said you’re sweet, but I’m sweeter.
I’ll slay any MC in this rappin’ arena.
Colossal, not a fossil, MCs are quite docile,
teach what I’m preaching, you can call me an apostle.
Tall, not short, dog, and this is the sport.
I’m a soldier with the mic, and I’m guarding my fort.
And MC’s are no bigger than my big toe.
And I get higher rating than The Cosby Show.
When I recite my rhyme, just for you, my friend,
Big L, jump on this mic and flow once again.

[Big L]
Yo it’s L the Harlem–
Check it out, bust it–
Yo it’s L, the Harlem pimp baby,
for real.
I got more dimes than that Sprint lady,
and that’s ill.
Playa hatas be giving me harsh looks.
But I’m tryin’ to sell records like Garth Brooks.
Forget em all.
Yo, it’s L the Harlem pimp baby, just like I said.
Right now, I’m going off the top of the head.
It’s me and O.C., we be low-key.
Chillin’ in the cribs, iced-out Roley.
Chillin’ with my man, his name is Phat Phillie.
I’m about to get illy, L is a willy.
The Blackout Rap Show.
I’m cool like my man, Fat Joe.
Chew MCs like tobacco.
O.C.

[O.C.]
Who’s the fatso? No, not O.
MC pro-rap, I can rip the show.
With my man Big L, that’s right, we representin’.
Name is O.C., I’ll put my foot indent in,
inside your butt like a slut on the call.
MC war.
Mics are strong.
My man Big E is on the back of the side
MCs, pull away before I crash your ride.

[Big L]
Check it out, check it out.
O.C. I got your back, bro.

[O.C.]
I got your back.

[Big L]
And we chillin’ on the show called the Blackout Rap show.
It’s like that y’all.
It’s like that y’all.
O.C. and L could never be wack y’all.
Check it out, every time I flow it’s a sensation.
Check it out, like–

[O.C.]
Live motivation!

[Big L]
Yeah, cuttin’ MCs like Jason.

[O.C.]
What? We been the ill _______.

[Big L]
I’ma set it off, then you gonna set it off next.

[O.C.]
One-two. Watch how we flex.

[Big L]
Uhh, it’s like that y’all.
It’s like that y’all.

[O.C.]
It’s like that, we hit the cats with a base-bat, ya’ll.

[Big L]
Right now, we tourin’ all over the world.

[O.C.]
MCs, just dissin’ your girl.

[Big L]
Uhh, we cool. You know how we do.

[O.C.]
Takin’ MCs to schools, we ain’t no fool.

[Big L]
Right now we gonna make this the very last line.

[O.C.]
Sucka MCs, O and L is on time.

[Big L]
Like that, ya’ll.


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15 Responses to “New Unreleased Big L & O.C. Freestyle at Blackout Show (1997)”


  • Comment from PatBC

    thanks a lot for this

    never heard this before

  • Comment from Sound Verite'

    bong.bong.glook

  • Comment from The Big Sleep

    BigLOnline exclusive.

    And I provided a slightly more correct version of the lyrics:

    [Big L]
    Yeah.
    Yeah, yeah.

    [O.C.]
    Yeah, yeah.

    [Big L]
    Get your tape recorders ready.

    [DJ Phat Phillie]
    Nah mean?

    [Big L]
    Big L, O.C.
    Set it off like this, check it out.

    [O.C.]
    What, what, what, what, what, what?

    [DJ Phat Phillie]
    Bang!

    [Big L]
    I be puffin’ blunts in the house, hittin’ stunts on the couch.
    This year, crazy cats gon’ get punched in they mouth.
    When your wife see me, she don’t know how to act,
    so don’t be mad when I blow out her back. For real.
    Your whole crew’s a buncha poo butts, made a few bucks,
    J’d a few sluts, then ya’ll started runnin’ your lips a little too much.
    Got chedda to blow, pockets never get low.
    Chickens sweat me wherever I go.
    Me and O.C. be in the Lex’, Cartier specs, Nautica sweats,
    Gore-Tex, with Presidentials on, full of baguettes.
    I done sold coke, sold crack, sold smoke, sold smack,
    now I wanna gold plaque, can I get a soul clap?
    Some cats be col’ wack.
    You got the lye? Well brother, roll that.
    And if it won’t get me high, then hold that.
    I’ma cop me a six, and cruise through the block with your trick.
    I’ma keep droppin’ them hits, it won’t stop ‘til I’m rich.

    [O.C.]
    Any mic I hold in the grip of my palm,
    I wave it over the crowd, dictating shit like Genghis Khan.
    Nonchalantly deliver the flow like drug traffic,
    scolding, bringing somatic to this rap shit.
    Bona fide. Mic set, you can’t see me on it.
    Master the art, so now I just flaunt it.
    Born to live a life and die, but ’til then,
    I’ma keep on writing slick rhymes with the pen.
    I take the cherry from a beat like a virgin havin’ innocent.
    Bust my nut, bring rhyme to life like Genesis.
    Poetical renaissance, endeavors are flawless,
    tearing it up when it comes to me picking up this cordless.
    One of New York’s finest,
    on this trip, I coincide with beat minus.
    Bringing out the best in me,
    we formulatin’ like a recipe.
    Water and dough, we sho’ ’nuff,
    bestow my presence,
    then I’m divine like the seven.
    Keeping it tight, ’cause what I suffice is raw nigga.
    It’s only right.

    [Big L]
    Like that, y’all.

    [O.C.]
    It’s like that, y’all.

    [Big L]
    On the Blackout Rap show, with my man Phat Phillie.
    Check it out, uhh.
    We about to get into a verse like this.
    Check me out, y’all.

    [DJ Phat Phillie]
    Hmm-mmm.

    [Big L]
    Yeah, yeah.
    A couple of years ago, before the year nine-fo’,
    my cash flow was low, I was low on dough.
    Used to try to talk to fly girls, and they was like: No!
    I knew that all of that’d change once I started to blow.
    Now my pockets are bloated, because I exploded,
    stay devoted, dropped a hot album, now I’m loaded.
    I hang with fly stars, buy cars, for fifty-thou’.
    The New York City child, thug with a pretty smile.
    I love this rap game, that’s why I married it,
    it’s a big load, but somebody gots to carry it.
    At one point I was about to give up,
    then got offered a record deal, and my eyes lit up.
    In 1992, boo, my dream came true.
    First I got the fame, then the cream came through.
    Word up, I used to rhyme all the time,
    whoever thought that slim kid from one-three-nine’d
    shine down the line, huh?
    I used to sell cracks, now I sell tracks.
    Listen up, ’cause when L raps, he tell facts.
    I’m the type of cat to lay wack MCs to rest,
    I was told to work hard to achieve success.
    Words of wisdom from my father,
    he said: L, when things ain’t going so well,
    don’t give up, try harder.
    And never be afraid to make mistakes,
    and don’t spend your cash foolishly, save your papes.
    Cause good things come to those who wait they turn.
    Stay concerned, cause it’s a lotta papes to earn.
    And help those that’s less fortunate than you.
    And stay true to whatever you do, until you’re through.

    [O.C.]
    Yo, uhh.
    O.C.’s illin’, I will never, ever bore you.
    O.C.’s illin’, I will never, ever bore you.
    To rock like I do, it takes certain zest,
    I’m truly untouchable, like Elliot Ness.
    See, my word and verse is fly. One moment tranquil,
    then the next minute it goes with the strength to kill.
    I can rock a party right, all night, just trust me,
    not an MC out there who can touch me.
    Anywhere I go, young ladies, they rush me.
    When I’m on the mic, no way in hell you can hush me.
    My mere presence will leave you in awe,
    and when I’m through you too will call me pa-pa.
    Now is the time to settle this vendetta,
    slicin’ MCs like a Swiss-cheese shredda.
    If you don’t like Swiss, then I cut you like chedda.
    Thick, slow and quick, great pain it will inflict.
    The beat’s on time and the cuts all click.
    Elegant, never meant, I loves to invent.
    If you heard me say I rock, this is what I meant:
    I don’t shriek, I speak, I could never be weak.
    I got the crowd overwhelmed with my rap mystique.
    I’m shrewd, never booed, I wear the MC crown.
    When I step in the place, MCs, they bow down.
    Suckas I will smash, they’re not fit for the class.
    Yo, when we get on the mic, they break out like a rash.
    Cause my sonic, atomic MCs get moronic.
    Chillin’ with Big L, we like: It’s bionic.
    Charismatic, emphatic, bass has no static.
    Strungin’ off the rhyme like a cocaine addict.
    Nothing but cheers, call O.C. the leader,
    def rhyme writer, fake MC defeater.
    Girlfriend said you’re sweet, but I’m sweeter.
    I’ll slay any MC in this rappin’ arena.
    Colossal, not a fossil, MCs are quite docile,
    teach what I’m preaching, you can call me an apostle.
    Tall, not short, dog, and this is the sport.
    I’m a soldier with the mic, and I’m guarding my fort.
    And MCs are no bigger than my big toe.
    And I get higher rating than The Cosby Show.
    When I recite my rhyme, just for you, my friend,
    Big L, jump on this mic and flow once again.

    [Big L]
    Yo it’s L the Harlem–
    Check it out, bust it–
    Yo it’s L, the Harlem pimp baby,
    for real.
    I got more dimes than that Sprint lady,
    and that’s ill.
    Playa hatas be giving me harsh looks.
    But I’m tryin’ to sell records like Garth Brooks.
    Forget em all.
    Yo, it’s L the Harlem pimp baby, just like I said.
    Right now, I’m going off the top of the head.
    It’s me and O.C., we be low-key.
    Chillin’ in the cribs, iced-out Roley.
    Chillin’ with my man, his name is Phat Phillie.
    I’m about to get illy, L is a willy.
    The Blackout Rap Show.
    I’m cool like my man, Fat Joe.
    Chew MCs like tobacco.
    O.C.

    [O.C.]
    Who’s the fatso? No, not O.
    MC pro-rap, I can rip the show.
    With my man Big L, that’s right, we representin’.
    Name is O.C., I’ll put my foot indent in,
    inside your butt like a slut on the call.
    MC war.
    Mics I storm.
    My man Big E is on the back of the side.
    MCs, pull away before I crash your ride.

    [Big L]
    Check it out, check it out.
    O.C. I got your back, bro.

    [O.C.]
    I got your back.

    [Big L]
    And we chillin’ on the show called the Blackout Rap show.
    It’s like that y’all.
    It’s like that y’all.
    O.C. and L could never be wack y’all.
    Check it out, every time I flow it’s a sensation.
    Check it out, like–

    [O.C.]
    Live motivation!

    [Big L]
    Uhh! Yeah, cuttin’ MCs like Jason.

    [O.C.]
    What? We been the ill _______.

    [Big L]
    I’ma set it off, then you gonna set it off next.

    [O.C.]
    One-two. Watch how we flex.

    [Big L]
    Uhh, it’s like that y’all.
    It’s like that y’all.

    [O.C.]
    It’s like that, we hit the cats with a base-bat, y’all.

    [Big L]
    Right now, we tourin’ all over the world.

    [O.C.]
    MCs, just dissin’ your girl.

    [Big L]
    Uhh, we cool. You know how we do.

    [O.C.]
    Takin’ MCs to schools and we ain’t no fool.

    [Big L]
    Right now we gonna make this the very last line.

    [O.C.]
    Sucka MCs, O and L is on time.

    [Big L]
    Like that, ya’ll.

  • Comment from phatphillie

    Thx for posting this Gim…more to come soon…

  • Comment from Mic-L

    BÄÄÄMMMM! Very Very Nice! Thx 4 this Up! Big L Rest in Peace!!! Legend!!!!

  • Comment from PAPER

    yo Mad props to Big L! Rest in Peace, the illist!

    Check me out at Youlovepaper.com

    I got sick mash ups!

  • Comment from Weirdo

    Thanks for this unreleased gem, it’s always a pleasure to listen to Big L. His first part of the freestyle is a verse for DITC’s song “Thick”.

  • Yoooo, that was ILL!! I fuckin love peepin Hiphop radio shows from other countries. It’s crazy to think there was a dope show out in Croatia in ’97. Wow! Big ups to Phat Phillie. Can you post any FULL shows??? I’d love to hear some…

  • Comment from Moe

    holy shit! thanks gim for posting this. anyone knows where this beat is taken from?

  • R.I.P. Big L….one of the greatest!

  • Comment from Weirdo

    @Moe
    the instrumental is EPMD’s “Da Joint”.

  • Comment from Moe

    thx a lot!!!

  • Comment from Ian Curtis

    Ill as fuck!! Thanks!

    One of New York’s finest,
    on this trip, I coincide with beat minus.

    Doesn´t he say Beatminerz?

  • Comment from Method Legendary

    @Shaun D. aka Wicked

    http://www.blackouthiphop.com/, there you can find some shows, but here’s link for the latest one from tuesday night http://www.sendspace.com/file/w9lyt9
    Phat Phillie still doin it big out here in Zagreb!!

    R.I.P. Big L

  • Comment from Fizzy Wo

    lol at transcribing lyrics to this. Dope post though no doubt


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