Emcee - Pumpkinhead

Picture a crown flooded with rubies and diamonds

On top of the dome of this man that’s rhymin

That signifies I’m in a bracket, beyond your mediocre back-packing emcees

Sorry for crackin your teeth

I got a back smackin disease

And it flairs up when I hear a rapper spit wacker than me

And don’t fit the category, that is corny

When a-nother emcee try to test me

But y’all, don’t impress me, heavens to Betsy

Y’all better jet-ski, pull a disappearin act like Wesley

Before a nigga gets back his swagger and steps up the ladder

Grandma, get the camera!

And take a flick of your baby boy doin his thing

Lookin like my dad, I swear we one in the same

And my son is the same

When we shine the sun dries up the rain and it’ll brighten your day

Yo I do this for my bro’s locked up in chains

And I do it for emcees that grew up on Kane

I do this for my brothers that sniff dust and 'caine

And fucked up they brain, let’s make a change

My needles only test the wax that’ll touch my veins

DP gives a scratch

Give it up to a brother that avoided the vultures

And’ll rep, every step of this hip-hop culture

I’m a E-M-C-E-E

A smooth operator operatin correctly

And I rep the four elements so nigga respect me

It’ll take more than your intelligence to test me

I’m an emcee, but started out as a B-boy

Windmillin, back spinnin on linolium towel boy

Adidas Shelltops, fat laces crossed over

Designer checker-box, my boombox would knock

It woke up like half of my block

I put my best foot forward, but my hip wasn’t hop

Shit was on lock, most of my boys, kept pistols on cock

At local hookey jams — when kids did the wop

And we stopped and we watched and we wopped and we rocked

And quickly went from Shelltops to Reeboks, S-curls to hightops

Black leather medallions with the African in it

I laughed cause I lived it and you didn’t

I made it a long way, and I can’t stop man

I «Refuse to Lose» like Chuck D — I’m a strong black man!

First and foremost, I’m still a hip-hop fan

This year Puffy went from «Making Da Band» to he’s in a band

Some say that he fakes, some say that he’s great

But I’ll be damned if I walk to Brooklyn to get your rich ass some cheesecake

That’s not hip-hop

That’s the type of shit that make me wanna not hip-hop

It make the government in protest and stop hip-hop

You don’t gotta agree with me Mr. P. Diddy

Toe-to-toe lyrically your artists can’t compete with me

I’m faster, I’m the master, y’all rappers and I’m a

— whispered