The Bigger Picture, Never Painted: A Tribute to Big L

Let me start this editorial by saying that I do not know everything. I am not an industry insider who has vivid stories of when I first met Big L, or tales of being in the studio with him and Lord Finesse. To be honest, I was only nine-years-old when he passed and barely knew anything about his story until I was 12. However, for the past seven years (I’m 19 now) I have tried to immerse myself in hip-hop culture and out of the hundreds of emcees that I have come across, none have left me as enamored as Big L.

The first time I heard Big L was when I was in the car with my brother (a Dip Set fanatic) in the summer of 2004. He was blaring a mix cd consisting mostly of some old Cam’ron. Suddenly, I hear this heavenly sound emit from the passenger speakers of my brother’s Impala.



Um, who in the name of Nasir was this menacing emcee spitting the first verse!? No exaggeration, the guy had just blown my mind in only 50 seconds! “Who the hell was that?” I asked my big bro. He shook his head, gave me the good ole “you young cats know nothing” spiel and then proceeded to try and school me on Big L, who he described as the “dude who used to run with Cam”. But, I knew something was missing because: A) my brother was on Dip Set’s scrotum like a broke hooker and B) this Big L guy was so nice that Cam should having been running WITH HIM, not vice versa.

After doing some research on my new fascination, I learned the story of one of the most exciting emcees to ever grace a microphone. Lamont Coleman (nicknamed “Little Lamont” throughout his Harlem neighborhood) was always the wise guy during his childhood. His sense of humor, however, didn’t match his surroundings. Growing up in a part of Harlem called “The Danger Zone”; Coleman was raised in the streets but was more enticed by the beats. Hip-hop was becoming a worldwide phenomenon and Lamont, taking after his idol Big Daddy Kane, began to develop his flow to make it big time. He began writing rhymes in the early 90’s and was in a group called “Three The Hard Way” until deciding to branch out on his own as a solo act. In a few years, Lamont had gained notoriety for his immense battling skills, singular wordplay, and exhilarating flow. Rhyming under the moniker of Big L, the young emcee got his first big break from Lord Finesse by appearing on the remix to “Yes You May”.



With a flow so immaculate and rare that only few could compare, L immediately shot up through the ranks of rap. He signed to Columbia Records and released the controversial promotional song “Devil’s Son” which sampled Nas saying “I went to hell for snuffin’ Jesus”. Carving out his own lane with his horrorcore raps and clever punchlines, Big L was able to drop his much lauded (4 out of 5 mics in The Source) debut album “Lifestylez of Da Poor & Dangerous”. Turns out I was right and Cam’ron WAS running with Big L: L put Cam and 7 of his other rap homies (including Mase) on his album, giving them their first taste of national exposure.

After getting dropped from his deal with Columbia because they wouldn’t signed the rest of his crew, Big L went on to gain insurmountable buzz as a free agent by dropping albums with his crews D.I.T.C. and Children of the Corn, as well releasing his most popular song to date, the brilliant slang dictionary rap “Ebonics”. Touted as the next big thing in hip hop, Big L was recruited by juggernauts Def Jam and Roc-A-Fella Records, who wanted the Harlem rapper to sign a joint venture between his company (Flamboyant Entertainment) and theirs.

I know, right? This was crazy rags-to-riches story. Possibly the most talented rapper to ever touch a mic was about to blow up in a major way and show that if rap was a game he’d be M.V.P. . But then it happened. You know what I’m going to say. Before he could reach his prime, like several prominent (and unfortunately more revered) emcees before him, Big L was slain on February 15, 1999, in the place he had always prophetically called the Danger Zone…

Like I said at the beginning of this little history lesson, I don’t know everything. But what I do know is: Big L was one of the nastiest m-fers to every kick a rhyme. He was blessed with an innate story telling ability, a colorful vocabulary, a great voice, and more charisma than about 80% of rappers these days who let their chains and diamonds do the talking. As a writer it is so refreshing to hear an emcee using such vivid imagery and innovative rhyme patterns in their songs. Imagine if he was still alive.

Would Roc-A-Fella still be alive? Would he have been spitting over Kanye West’s beats? Would he have diffused the tension between Jay-Z and Cam’ron? Would there even have been a Dip Set? Would he have dissed 50 Cent after Fif’s beef with Fat Joe (member of D.I.T.C.) and Cam? Would we be watching YouTube videos of him clowning Mase for those damn shiny suits, since he was such a jokester ( I know there has to be footage of that somewhere because that video dropped in ’97)? God, what if he had a verse on Fat Joe’s “Lean Back”??? Better yet, what if he would of gave the world one or two more classic albums?

I guess we will never know, but what we do know is that even though Big L is no longer with us, in his brief career he gave us some of the illest bars ever put on wax. Man, I cried when I heard the Intro to “The Big Picture”; half because his lines were nastier than fried onions and half because the DJ Premier produced track is so gut wrenching beautiful that it makes me remember how great Big L was. And what the culture that I love so much lost when he died. BIG L REST IN PEACE.