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lirik lagu poops & pumpkinhead - wkcr 89.9 freestyle on 1/11/1996 (stretch & bobbito)

[intro: bobbito garcia and pumpkinhead]
bobbito garcia: one, two, one, two. this is the dj stretch armstrong show. we have pumpkinhead and p–ps
pumpkinhead: yeah, yeah
bobbito garcia: as well as fboom in the house
pumpkinhead: yeah, yeah. what’s up?
bobbito garcia: so what goes on?
pumpkinhead: nothing much
bobbito garcia: yo, just for me and stretch. stretch doesn’t have a mic right now, but good looking out for the promos
pumpkinhead: aight
bobbito garcia: over the last year-and-a-half
pumpkinhead: no problem, man
bobbito garcia: it’s been very nice
pumpkinhead: hahaha
bobbito garcia: we like promos. we definitely like promos but anyway. i, i’ve been low on energy tonight. i’m, i’m still up, though. we got, uh, triflicts in the house. it’s 3:30. so without ado, just gonna open the m-i
pumpkinhead: nah’mean?
bobbito garcia: do it like we had all that
pumpkinhead: ahaha. check it out. this is pumpkinhead. one time, check it out, yo. check it, check it, check it out. check it out, yo. uh

[verse 1: pumpkinhead]
my flow is so big, i make emcees say, “hold it,” and they get scolded
‘cause rhymes are hot like lava that be molten
composing material to cause nuclear explosions
flesh and gristle deteriorate like erosion
i hate rappers who be posing to be hard like water that is frozen
you got no wins. i wreck sh-t from the outside to the inside like implosions
i know you’re hoping to rise like the price of token
now i’m posting up, swat your corny raps like a roach and
not the kind that dreads be smoking
but the ones that jump out of appliances while you’re making toast and
i’m coasting over tracks like boats in the ocean
try to hang with the plague, leaving the g-man to do the roping
i traveled to syracuse with doom. we took the locomotion
that had me bugging out like acid tabs mounting in my throat when
holding my temper in like s-m-n in a trojan
splash you to the ninth power, we’ll make collages underwater
so therefore, yo p–ps, extraordinaire
get on the microphone and just wear and tear

[verse 2: p–ps]
this freestyle was not let out in the crowd
for some reason, my deadly rhyme wasn’t allowed
but i shall be proud to my style off the head
not the regular compet-tor—predator to terror
you know when i enter
rhymes of intelligence benefit to the clever
wise man, i take a wide stand ‘cause i’m
large with emotion. feel my motion
i’m coasting, bragging, and boasting, known to be toasting
without a holster, pin-you-to-me poster
you see, when i be driving sh-t off head
and freestyle, i’ll be made a whole monument
my style be like cosmic in a comic
of illusions (haha)
well, that’s, that’s the freestyle i was doing

[interlude 1: p–ps and pumpkinhead]
pumpkinhead: yeah. there’s another beat right after this
p–ps: i was just bugging though. i was just talking to you
pumpkinhead: yeah
p–ps: p–ps
pumpkinhead: yeah, yeah
p–ps: i like communicating to people
pumpkinhead: park slope and bushwick
p–ps: i like talking to them
pumpkinhead: in the house
p–ps: i speak and i seek for a beat to eat
pumpkinhead: set it off, p–ps

[verse 3: p–ps]
do i subdue your whole crew and your whole team?
my lyrical freestyle was meant to be a machine
i’m a fly lord mixed with human
consider me your freestyle cyborg
many right here don’t believe this sh-t right now
is freestyle, but it’s written. alright, i’m admitting. listen
i wrote this in my conscious. can y’all get it
why i’m not rocking your silly nonsense?
you could check it when i stuck. ain’t even stutter
manufacturing problems. who now to discover?
my freestyle was so potent. i’m so dope, man
d-mn
it feels so good, so good like a hood should
in the ghetto. inside the mellow field, the h-llo of a fellow
terror can never look me in the eyes. it despise and
wear a mask. for all the trials is the p-ss
i outlast. you don’t want the leader
i was seen through visions of the eyes of bobbito
but now, i’ll be seen by everyone who visions
now you see with your ears that you listen
christen the thoughts, in a sense, from a blessing
moving with aggression, a most powerful weapon
watch where you’re stepping—even when i get crossed
never fall off—even when my f-cking throat is getting ho-rs-
“freestyle.” i said it again
i got to put it into your mind until it contends
with the emotions saying that this sh-t was wrote
right here that i quote is guaranteed heroine dope
you know my lyric could get soaked. never tip boat
‘cause i’m no joke with the rhyme that i promote
just like atosmic, my rhyme be cosmic
capture to the rhyme trapture of logic
my sk!lls are bionic, sonic, super. there ain’t no rhyme that could look
any cuter. i mean “-cuter. executer”
my rhymer a theme ‘til your styles salute ya

[verse 4: pumpkinhead]
no doubt we rock the microphone, yo. got the hyper tone as
pumpkinhead, check it how i wreck it
i leave emcees dead. they cannot test this. yo, check it out
i grab your girl’s breasteses. i got nipple fetishes
freestyle. when i kick it, take your verses as
emcees can’t test this manifestation
that i’m kicking is me and p–ps’ creation
and fb. emcees couldn’t see me in 3-d tv
check it how i kick it. emcees cannot be we
pumpkinhead, check it. i wash away emcees like a squeegee
by a b-m on your car when i kick rhymes that go far like interstellar
stars. yo, i’m the star. not super
but, yo, i’ll shoot ya with lyrical rhymes that will suit ya
check it out. i flip it off the top. porto roc rip it
emcees know that my lyrics’ll get explicit
twist like the neck-e-lace on the exorcist
flipping this freestyle, yo, i flip it like gymnast
yo, i’m in this to win this. i’m
taking out your teeth like a dentist
emcees, they try to invent this, but this style is mine
yo, i write my rhymes and you buy yours
so, yo, check it. come into my store
if you want some fat lyrics, i got ‘em for sale
yo, i will prevail. emcees, they’ll get impaled
so, yo, p–ps. what’s up, my knocker?
get on the mic and be the sure shocker like blanca

[interlude 2: p–ps and pumpkinhead]
p–ps: that sh-t was dope that you kicked. it’s all in my ear just like my last q-tip
pumpkinhead: hahahahaha
p–ps: now i’ll flip the truth. that’s what i need to do
pumpkinhead: yo. uh huh, getting me amped up in here
p–ps: i’m, i know i seem conceited. i just can’t help it
pumpkinhead: yo
p–ps: this style was gifted. i’m known to be selfish

[verse 5: p–ps]
it’s part of me like my prep… i mean, my pelvis
let it flow, let it grow into my embryo
you know when i state it, no one can relate it
what i created is known to get your mind pregnated
what i stated to be the gradual element
and i make y’all n-gg-s all be too celebrant
my rhyme will make you celebrate when i enter
no hate, but i still bring on the palm of great
this sh-t was meant for gods to hear
right now, jesus is in the air, screaming, “aw yeah”
never interfere through what i’m doing here
i got to be nice or it’s my life that i sacrifice
i’m never wack. in fact, i come to attack
with that rhyme and that rap
rhythm and poetry. notice me now
i flow to be knee-shallow inside this freestyle
you could hear me flow, bobbito. you know it
i’m not ordinary rapping. i’m a lyrical poet
my rhyme, i throw it just like it was a bouncing ball
i’m counting emcees’ falls
i roar for nothing—they all be fronting
come and look down to a sound that swore to be something
i got stuck. radio activity clognated
my rhyme lava will erupt
my sh-t is hot. i’ll blow up the spot
i got to do what i got to do, so yada yada

[verse 6: pumpkinhead]
yo, you blow up the spot and i blow up the spot and
emcees cannot get with this lyrical hip hop when
i drop it on the one, two. emcees, i’ll gun you
down quickly. yo, my worm, rhymuroh, my rhyme is sickly
i stuttered, but this still, um, flow is b-tter
when i come through, emcees, close your shutters
because i’m shining. yo, check it. i be drinking wine and
emcees, i’m finding you to be wack and i’m smacking
y’all n-gg-s for attacking. you’ll get cracked in
like jacks when i kick the ill hip hop rap
yo, i’ll bury you in my cemetery
yo, i get in ya like keith murray f-cking halle berry
check it. i kick the freestyle off the top and, yo, i’ll wreck it
it’s the pumpkinhead, dark slope’s motherf-cking representing
open you up like a, uh, present on christmas. i smoke pine trees on christmas
yo, i’m this quick when i kick it. emcees can’t diss this
you get dismissed when i kick this lyrical arsonist
burn up into planes, uh, enter flames. yo
the crew be plague and, emcees, you’re just vague and
yo, check it. i be twenty years young. and the rhymes that you were brung
they was wack, so they got flung off the balcony
down to a hungry emcee that ate your -ss up
yo, i just p-ss up and blast up wack emcees. yo
me and p–p, we known as the f-cking lyrical disease
and fb from bushwick and troutman
leaving emcees housed and arousing when i’m coming through your town and
yo, thank you for bobbito for playing the promo
you know how we go. and emcees, we put you on slow mo
you cannot not do this ‘cause, yo, i’ll be flowing, flowing, flowing just like fluid
yo, yo, p–ps, come in one time for your mind
and kick that ill rhyme

[outro: bobbito garcia and pumpkinhead]
pumpkinhead: ah, haha. ahah
bobbito garcia: yaaa. we got another group in the house, so we gotta keep on rolling, alright?
pumpkinhead: no doubt, no doubt
bobbito garcia: yo, pumpkinhead
pumpkinhead: thank you
bobbito garcia: yo, i want to say that it’s overdue. overdue at the station. this is the dj stretch armstrong show. my name is “bobbito,” your host. still got triflicts in the house. dark slope in the house. we’re gon’ roll it along. (-company flow’s “8 steps to perfection” starts playing-). wow, i love this song

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