D.I.T.C.
Where You At?
[Verse 1: Big Pun]
Ayo, it's finally done, the two nicest n***as unite as one
Collide the sun with the moon, boom, I leave you brighted from
My full clips, hawk the world into hell when a bullet spit
Crucifix myself to the sun, now who you with?
Enter my world of doom, consume fear and feel the panic
I ram a lightning bolt between the earth and moon and curl the planets
I'm pan-Atlantic with lyrics spannin for galaxies
Battle me, mathematically, I'm giving your wisdom a cavity
Rapidly flowing, controlling the time
Flip over the line, I'm blowing your mind wit just a flow and a rhyme
I'm Hogan in his prime, so strong and fast
You can bomb and blast, c'mon, you'll still be on your a**
It's satisfaction guaranteed
With Fiction like Quentin Tarantin'
Kicking your baddest dreams, sh*t you haven't seen
I have to be perfectly honest
We should have an anniversary to acknowledge the way I work through ebonics
I verbally vomit on all those n***as try to get us
With garbage lyrics, my style delivers outside the outer limits
I'm like the pyramids 'cause every point is precise
Now you know me for life
Six Pun, Cuban flooded wit ice

[Chorus: Big Pun & Milano]
If I ain't home wit my fam (Where you at?)
Stash crib, cuttin grams (Where you at?)
If I ain't deep in some a** (Where you at?)
I'm in the jeep wit the stash (Where you at?)
If I ain't home wit my fam (Where you at?)
Stash crib, cuttin grams (Where you at?)
If I ain't deep in some a** (Where you at?)
I'm in the jeep wit the stash (Where you at?)

[Verse 2: Big L]
Check it, my whole crew holdin
We all got rides wit extra features
It's a bunch of ya'll, one got dough, the rest is leeches
You probably mad cuz I be sexin divas
I should pull this pistol out and make you touch your sneakers
I'm on some cool out sh*t, but I will pull this tool out quick
And put some holes in your new outfit
You frontin hard cuz you whip a Range
But it's a 4.0, you nerd n***a, you heard Jigga now get your change
You ain't a willy you a small soldier
Give it up son it's all over
And you never sold a, pound of cane
You a clown wit fame, goin down the drain
All yo' sh*t sound the same
I'mma shine pop-o, cuz when you got dough your rocks glow
L got a hot flow that rap coppo
I'm Uptown's smoothest, my first album left you clowns clueless
Sayin I'm wack, you n***as sound foolish
N***as hate to see L bubble, they'd rather see L struggle
Cuz what they sell, I'mma sell double
You wanna see rocks, then look at L's wrist
If you see me in the club drinkin Mo' that means they don't sell Cris, what!
Chorus