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I get in shape and do my physical fitness |
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Your head's numb, so your brains a miss this |
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Pick 'em up, eat 'em up, pick 'em up, beat 'em up |
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Pick 'em up pimplehead, pick 'em up picky |
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I roll wit globs and i come real sticky |
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Ripping the mic, i plug it up in your ears |
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Crazed and brewer. i'm coming out like beers |
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Like rheingold, miller, coors, and buds |
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I'm a eat 'em wit popcorn and treat 'em like suds you duds |
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Coming out the wick wack, wicky, wickable wack |
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Black jack, that's a fact, writing exact behind your back |
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The funk rhyme to master, blaster |
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Kicking up in a brainstorm, rainstorm |
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Rap storm, rap form |
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Rap time, rap rhyme |
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Rap class, i'm here to fail and to pass |
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To continue, from the more, hype tip |
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I roll and rock, rock and roll |
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Jazz and pop, rhythm and blues |
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Dance and fusion, pain confusion |
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Look at the lights, what a night on the town |
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I'm poppa large, big shot on the east coast(4x) |
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Now i'm back to funk, freak the funk |
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Hype the funk, swipe the funk and all that junk |
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I get busy on 'em, communicate wit the world |
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Man, woman, a baby boy and a girl |
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Poppa large looking out the pawn shop |
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Taking stroud while your face and arms drop |
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Stop, look, learn to read, learn to write |
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Learn to talk, learn to walk |
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And watch your step though, i'm hype and ripe though |
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Kleptomaniac, my rhyme is psycho |
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A ricky ricardo, a guy lombardo |
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Sporting a ragtop, an el dorado |
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Step into hollywood, i'm screening the boulevards |
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The rhymes is gain type, i'm ready to pull it's card |
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Jack or ace, king or queen, call me the deuce |
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I'm pouring la juice |
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Hitting the top, feeling the rim |
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Getting a trim, i never rhyme like them |
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On and on, on and on, on and on |
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Until the break of dawn |
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I go overtime, rock the mic in nighttime |
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Daytime, switching off to primetime |
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Specifically, strolling back in the west time |
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Rock the funk wit the mic in the east rhyme |
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Hype and dope, hype the frame, the mic is smoking |
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Yo, i ain't joking |
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Rhyme to kill, rhyme to murder, rhyme to stomp |
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Rhyme to ill, rhyme to romp |
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Rhyme to smack, rhyme to shock, rhyme to roll |
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Rhyme to destroy anything toy boy |
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On the microphone |
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I'm poppa large, big shot on the east coast(4x) |
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You're dripping sweaty, coming hard on your neck |
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As i flow and grow from head to toe |
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Seeking a style like john mcenroe |
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Dissing 'em all, serving them wit the mic stand |
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Like prince and michael coming out wit a big band |
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The crowd is loud, you can pay as teh manager |
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Run wit the money, i pull the trigger and damage ya |
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Boom, taking life more serious |
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I may sound lyrical and very mysterious |
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Rhymes are grip tight, no grams to kill more |
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A son of sam, how could i begin more |
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Grabbing the mic, you see the dark and shadows |
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You're in living hell, the funk, pound to pound |
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The funk ignited, hands are writing, brains dividing |
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I'm coming out in sighting |
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Like i'm blackula, a better man that dracula |
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Spectacular and not irregular |
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In fact you are speaking impopular |
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Rhymes are moved and you can't be stop wit the |
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Beat as it goes to the rhyme that flows |
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Like a coke in a straw burning up in your nose |
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That's a bad habit, stepping out on stage one |
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Drop the mic, come and turn to page one |
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Look at the master, my range is higher |
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My lyrical burns, your brain's on fire |
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Poppa large, big shot on the east coast(8x) |
