Poops - WKCR 89.9 Freestyle on 1/11/1996 (Stretch & Bobbito) lyrics

[Intro: Bobbito Garcia and Pumpkinhead] Bobbito Garcia: One, two, one, two. This is the DJ Stretch Armstrong Show. We have Pumpkinhead and Poops 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** 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 semen in a Trojan Splash you to the ninth power, we'll make collages underwater So therefore, yo Poops, extraordinaire Get on the microphone and just wear and tear [Verse 2: Poops] 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 competitor—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** 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: Poops and Pumpkinhead] Pumpkinhead: Yeah. There's another beat right after this Poops: I was just bugging though. I was just talking to you Pumpkinhead: Yeah Poops: Poops Pumpkinhead: Yeah, yeah Poops: I like communicating to people Pumpkinhead: Park Slope and Bushwick Poops: I like talking to them Pumpkinhead: In the house Poops: I speak and I seek for a beat to eat Pumpkinhead: Set it off, Poops [Verse 3: Poops] 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** 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 Damn It feels so good, so good like a hood should In the ghetto. Inside the mellow field, the hello of a fellow Terror can never look me in the eyes. It despise and Wear a mask. For all the trials is the pa** 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**ing throat is getting hoarse “Freestyle.” I said it again I got to put it into your mind until it contends With the emotions saying that this sh** was wrote Right here that I quote is guaranteed h**ne 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**s 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 Poops' 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 bum 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, Poops. What's up, my knocker? Get on the mic and be the sure shocker like Blanca [Interlude 2: Poops and Pumpkinhead] Poops: That sh** was dope that you kicked. It's all in my ear just like my last Q-Tip Pumpkinhead: Hahahahaha Poops: Now I'll flip the truth. That's what I need to do Pumpkinhead: Yo. Uh huh, getting me amped up in here Poops: I'm, I know I seem conceited. I just can't help it Pumpkinhead: Yo Poops: This style was gifted. I'm known to be selfish [Verse 5: Poops] 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***as 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** 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** 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 bu*ter 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***as 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**ing 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**ing 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 a** up Yo, I just pa** up and blast up wack emcees. Yo Me and Poop, we known as the f**ing 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, Poops, 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