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When hip hop fans talk about fallen legends, the names of Tupac Shakur and The Notorious B.I.G. come up right away. Lamont Coleman, however, is sadly an afterthought.
During the same time that Pac and Biggie were taking the hip hop industry by storm, the artist known as Big L was building up his notoriety as well. Nas feared him, Jay-Z almost signed him, and Eminem paid tribute to him after his death.
How can a rapper with such an ill reputation be engulfed in the smoke of obscurity? I’ll be honest: when I first heard of Big L, it wasn’t even because I had stumbled onto his music. At the Shady 2.0 cypher during the 2011 BET Hip Hop Awards, Crooked I had dropped this line: “Spit like a sick mixture of Notorious, Pun, and L/Get the big picture?”.
It took me quite a while before I realized that all three of those rappers had the word “Big” attached to their names. But, whereas I had heard of The Notorious B.I.G. and Big Pun before, I had never known about this emcee called Big L.
Several years later, I was in the car listening to some random freestyle session on YouTube. The video’s title caught my attention since it was supposedly a 1995 freestyle session featuring a young Jay-Z. Funnily enough, Hov’s lines didn’t blow me away; it was probably because the other emcee in the booth that night had superior flow and way better bars.
That emcee was none other than Big L. After doing my homework on his career—not an easy feat, mind you—I can tell you this much. In the short time that he unleashed his poetic brilliance on this Earth, Big L proved that he deserves to be remembered as one of the rap game’s all-time greats.
Quick Facts
Birth Date | May 30, 1974 |
Birth Place | Harlem, New York |
Nick Name | Little L, Mont Mont |
Nationality | American |
Zodiac Sign | Gemini |
Siblings | Donald Phinazee (brother)
Leroy Phinazee (brother) |
Most Successful Songs | “Put It On” (feat. Kid Capri)
“M.V.P.” “Flamboyant” |
Net Worth | Estimated value of $1 million to $1.5 million (at the time of his death) |
Last updated | July 2, 2022 |
Early Years
Lamont Coleman was born on May 30, 1974 in the Harlem neighborhood of New York City. He was raised by his aunt Gilda “Pinky” Terry, whose two sons (Donald and Leroy Phinazee) treated him like their own brother.
In a 2014 Complex interview, Donald (the eldest of the three boys) explained L’s background: “Lamont was adopted…from my uncle. He came back from the Army—that war shit, he was done. The name Coleman came from his mother.
We can’t find her.” (Despite this on-the-record statement, I see so many online articles claiming that Pinky Terry was Lamont’s birth mother. However, since Lamont was incredibly close to Donald and Leroy, those two men will be referred to as his “brothers” in this article.)
In the same interview, Donald went on to describe Lamont as being closer to Leroy. Nevertheless, the two lads made sure to watch over their “little one,” even as their mother did what she could to make both ends meet for the family.
As he grew up in the so-called Danger Zone of Harlem, Lamont started to develop interests that would shape his future career. For one, he gained a reputation for being a joker who lit up his family and friends. He also took a liking to horror films; T.E. “Jewlz” Farrar, a close friend of the family, recounted that young Lamont “was into real morbid shit.” Humor and horror would eventually become strong aspects of Big L’s signature style.
Lamont Falls in Love with Hop Hop
Hip hop was introduced to Lamont at a very young age. According to his brother Donald, 5-year-old Lamont dropped some of the first verses of his life when their mother bought turntables and other DJ equipment. The little emcee showed a particular preference for the rhymes of rap pioneer Big Daddy Kane.
And, when the two brothers watched a live performance of Run-D.M.C. in 1985, Lamont was said to have been completely floored. In Donald’s words: “That was it.”
At the age of 12, Lamont and his friends started freestyling on the streets. The constant heat of competitive lyricism—on the block, in school hallways, at house parties—allowed Lamont to hone his vocabulary, punchlines, and bars. Soon, he developed a reputation as the best freestyle rapper on Harlem’s Lenox Avenue.
Around this time, the neighborhood came to know the name Big L. (Interestingly, Donald and Leroy’s brother had been known as Little L in years past.)
Off to the Races
By 1991, Big L and his buddies were making the rounds at open mic events on Harlem’s 125th street. L’s friends tried to hype him up to recording artists that they would meet, but to no avail. (To me, this proves that the rap game is akin to a lot of industries out there. In hip hop and elsewhere, it’s not about what you know; it’s about whom you know!)
During one of these excursions, they came across Lord Finesse, a Bronx legend and the leader of the D.I.T.C. crew, at an autograph signing. Though skeptical at first, Finesse agreed to listen to L spit some verses. This would turn out to be L’s big break in the industry, as Finesse was blown away by the 17-year-old’s punchlines and multisyllabic rhymes.
Initially, Finesse had limited the D.I.T.C. crew to emcees from his Bronx neighborhood. However, he promptly discarded this rule when he welcomed Big L to the group, which included Diamond D and the rap duo Showbiz and A.G. Buckwild, O.C., and Fat Joe would bolster the group’s ranks as well. Recalling the first time that Finesse brought Big L on stage to perform, Fat Joe said, “The way the crowd responded, I knew that he was gonna be a superstar.”
1992 turned out to be a big year for Big L. His first professional project ever was an appearance on the remix of Lord Finesse’s “Yes You May.” Along with Finesse and DeShawn, he contributed a verse to the track “Represent” (off Showbiz and A.G.’s debut album Runaway Slave). And, for good measure, he graduated from Julia Richman High School that year.
Though Big L was having a blast with the D.I.T.C. unit, he decided to form his own crew. In 1990, he had taken a stab at this with his Three the Hard Way group, which included Doc Reem and Rodney. However, the group disbanded without releasing any projects.
In 1993, L gave it another try when he formed Children of the Corn (COC) with Killa Cam, Murda Mase, Bloodshed, and McGruff. To this day, I really can’t believe how the fates brought Big L, the future Cam’ron, and the future Ma$e together.
Though this group likewise was unable to release any studio album, they ran cypher circles and had at least two memorable appearances on the popular Stretch Armstrong and Bobbito radio show. (Two COC freestyles on the Stretch and Bobbito show were included in the track list for their 2003 compilation album.)
I have no doubt, though, that any official album released by COC during their peak would have caught the attention of the wider hip hop community outside New York. Sadly, that’s a project that we can only dream of listening to.
1993-1995: The Apex of His Recording Career
While 1993 marked the formation of L’s new group, he significantly advanced in his solo career as well. That year, he signed with Columbia Records and released the single “Devil’s Son.”
This controversial track was filled with rather dark lyrics like “I’m wavin’ automatic guns at nuns” and “On my skull the 666, no tricks/When I catch fits, my mom picks up the crucifix.” Due to its gory content, “Devil’s Son” was quickly banned from radio. Big L later claimed—and not without merit—that the song helped the horrorcore sub-genre gain traction in the ’90s.
On November 13, 1994, he released “Put It On,” the first promotional single for his upcoming album. In the aftermath of the 1994 smash hits Illmatic and Ready to Die, Big L’s release of “Put It On” was his way of throwing his name in the hat, as far as the competitive New York scene goes.
The anthemic track represents the finest of Big L’s abilities: unparalleled swagger, a constant flurry of punchlines, and advanced compound rhymes. As I dissect the lyrics of this masterpiece, I seriously can’t decide what my favorite line is.
There’s his taunt laced with simple mathematics (“Got thirty-five bodies, buddy, don’t make it thirty-six”); his wordplay on his own name (“Nobody can take nothin’ from Big L but a loss, chief”); and his ominous joke (“You can’t kill me, I was born dead”), among many other quotable bars.
“Put It On,” however, could only get as far as number 81 on the Billboard rap chart. (The lack of promotion from Columbia Records might have contributed to this, but the fact that “Put It On” has amassed more than 60 million streams on Spotify illustrates that Big L was simply ahead of his time.)
In early 1995, Big L released two more singles off his debut album: “M.V.P.” and “No Endz, No Skinz.” In the middle of promoting this project, he once again paid a visit to the Stretch and Bobbito show on February 23. This time, a relatively unknown rapper by the name of Jay-Z shared the booth with him.
What transpired that night was a sly game of one-upmanship, with each emcee spitting hot verses over Miikbone’s “Keep It Real.” In a 2012 Vibe interview, Bobbito recalled that Big L and Jay-Z had actually battled each other in Harlem prior to their appearance on the show.
Thanks to YouTube, the 1995 freestyle session of Big L and Jay-Z lives on as a testament to both emcees’ brilliance, as well as a rare piece of history. (And yes, this piece of audio on YouTube is where I first heard Big L spit bars!)
Then, on March 28, 1995, Big L released the one and only album of his lifetime: Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous. A landmark piece of 90’s East Coast hip hop, Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous blended gangsta rap with Big L’s horrorcore flavor and the formidable production of Lord Finesse and Buckwild.
Aside from the three singles that had been released beforehand, the album’s track list included two posse cuts: the aptly titled “8 Iz Enuff” (which included his COC cohorts Killa Cam and McGruff) and Da Graveyard (which featured an appearance by his freestyle peer Jay-Z).
Reputed hip hop magazine The Source gave it four out of five mics, praising its “ill animated lyrics combined with metaphors that stun, a combo sure to have suckas on the run. This critical acclaim, however, could not translate into commercial sales; Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous ended up peaking at number 149 on the Billboard 200.
Starting Anew, Seeing the End
By 1996, Big L’s contentious relationship with Columbia Records had come to a head. There was a palpable disconnect between the record label and Big L’s aggressive rap style, which remained rooted in the urban underground vibe. As such, Big L was dropped from the label that year.
Though this came as a blow to his career, he managed to land on his feet as he had been working some “hustles” for some time.
These included throwing parties at New York City’s Latin Quarter nightclub (with tickets worth $50 to $150 apiece); making guest appearances on other artists’ songs; and, in the words of his brother Donald, “selling a lil’ dust sometimes.” Free from the constraints of a record label, Big L started to see the prospect of a more lucrative career by going the independent route.
However, he had to deal with tragedy in early 1997, when his COC crewmate Derek “Bloodshed” Armstead died in a car accident. This unfortunate turn of events would lead to the disbandment of the group, with each of the members focusing on their solo careers instead. For Big L, the focus was to record material for his second studio album—an endeavor that carried over to the following year.
1998 saw another new beginning in Big L’s career when he established his own record label called Flamboyant Entertainment. Through this label, he released the single “Ebonics”; 30,000 copies of the track were promptly sold. Big L also released the tracks “Flamboyant” and “Size ‘Em Up” through the platform of Flamboyant Entertainment; both songs have since become classic street singles.
Thus, as 1999 drew near, Big L’s career seemed poised to reach new heights. The rapper had actually begun negotiating a deal with Jay-Z’s Roc-A-Fella Records. (Talks were stalling, though, as L wanted some friends to be signed to Roc-A-Fella as well, while Jay-Z wanted to sign just L.)
A Career Cut Short
On the night of February 15, 1999, Big L was walking around the vicinity of Harlem’s 139th street. While he was handing out fliers to promote an upcoming party, an unknown assailant fired nine bullets into his face and chest. On the cusp of reaching new heights of success, the rapper fell and was soon pronounced dead at the scene. Big L was only 24 when he met his tragic end.
To date, Big L’s murder remains unsolved. Though Gerard Woodley, L’s childhood friend, was arrested in May 1999 in connection to the crime, he was later released due to lack of evidence. (In 2016, Woodley himself was fatally shot in Harlem, not far from where Big L was gunned down.)
In 2010, Donald Phinazee claimed that the killer’s actual target was not Big L, but their other brother Leroy. (The rapper was reportedly wearing Leroy’s chain when he was shot.) Other reports speculated that L was killed in retaliation for offenses committed by Leroy, who was incarcerated at the time.
Big L’s second album, which had been slated to come out in 1999, was instead released on August 1, 2000. Entitled The Big Picture, the album was put together by L’s manager Rich King. The production team included DJ Premier, Ron Browz (who handled the single “Ebonics”), Pete Rock, and L’s longtime mentor Lord Finesse.
Guest appearances included L’s childhood idol Big Daddy Kane, his fellow DITC member Fat Joe, and the legendary Tupac Shakur (who, in 1996, was also killed in cold blood). The Big Picture went on to be certified gold; to date, it is Big L’s most successful release.
Three more posthumous albums were released: 139 and Lenox (2010), Return of the Devil’s Son (2010), and The Danger Zone (2011). As fans continue to explore the totality of his discography—and as multiple generations of emcees keep his memory alive—Lamont Coleman never ceases to be a bigger than big presence in the hip hop industry.
Legacy
When it comes to the history of rap’s all-time greats, the big picture can never be complete without the shout-out that Big L merits. The legacy of L includes his significance in the 90’s East Coast rap scene, his role in the rise of the horrorcore sub-genre, and his widely respected proficiency in punchlines and complex rhyme schemes.
Why is Big L Influential?
Though Big L had a relatively short stint in the industry, his style and body of work clearly resonates with contemporary rappers. Tech N9ne, A$AP Rocky, and the late Mac Miller have all described L’s significance to their careers and the hip hop community in general. As for Big L’s own contemporaries: Nas famously said that he was “scared to death” after hearing a Big L tape, while Jay-Z praised L for his “ability to write big records and big choruses.” (And, on the 50 Cent song “Patiently Waiting,” Eminem described himself as a combination of Tupac, Biggie, and Big L.)
FAQs
Answer: There are no official records stating that Big L fathered children or got married.
Answer: Sadly, the two New York icons never go to work on a track together while they still lived. Interestingly, the Tupac-Big L collaboration “Deadly Combination” was supposed to feature Biggie as well. In a 2022 Hip Hop DX interview, DJ Ron G (who had previously worked with L) narrated how he planned to assemble the posthumous track by putting together previous recordings by the three emcees. However, when he sought permission from Biggie’s mother Voletta Wallace, she demanded that Biggie’s part be removed from the song. As such, “Deadly Combination” consisted of two rap legends instead of three.
Answer: On May 28, 2022, 140th Street and Lenox Avenue—the slain rapper’s former stomping grounds—was renamed Lamont “Big L” Coleman Way. During the ceremony held for the unveiling of the new street name, L’s niece Laniqua Phinazee and his Children of the Corn colleague McGruff were in attendance.
Bottom Line
There’s no telling how many industry accolades Big L would have bagged if his career had stretched longer. Subsequent generations of rappers would have jumped at the chance to collaborate with him (with a few hotheads perhaps starting a beef or two). Though these what-ifs will ultimately amount to naught, Big L most certainly made something out of nothing in the rap industry.
For the impressive body of work that he left behind, Big L deserves to be remembered with unfailing frequency. I fervently hope that this article—and many other carefully crafted tributes in the future—will ensure that outcome.