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wack emcees (street version) - pumpkinhead lyrics

pumpkinhead ft. mc rolex (aka the bad seed) – “wack emcees”
[emcee(s): pumpkinhead]
[producer(s): overtime]
[additional vocals: meat pie and mc rolex (aka the bad seed)]

[intro: mc rolex (aka the bad seed)]
peace. this is mc ro-lex. and when i ain’t rapping about my motherf-cking rolly or my motherf-cking benz, i’m getting my -ss lyrically stomped out by that motherf-cker pumpkinhead. ha! i’m representing for w-a-c-k radio, baby. ha, pop that cristal!

[verse 1: pumpkinhead]
i’ve been to the point of no return and back
and who you be? another emcee that sounds wack
i attack airwaves’ radio frequency to slave
i’ve paid more dues than the pta. get out
my way ‘cause i’m on this track full steam ahead
hip hop icon, soon-to-be number one: pumpkinhead
branded in your head like the mark of the beast
me and my crew formed this abstract masterpiece
raps and beats from the dynamic duo, who knows
this ancient puerto rican secret fat/phat like a sumo
just to let you know, we never troop alone
makin’ got my back like the battery piece on a cellphone
ram this home. and we in it, son, we finished, son
bam! screaming on wack emcees like sam kinison

[hook: pumpkinhead]
i came down to this earth to rid you of these wack emcees
(say what? say what?) these wack emcees
i came down to this earth to rid you of these wack emcees
(say what? say what?) these wack emcees
i hate these wack emcees, these gun-clap emcees
player, mac emcees. they all lack degrees
they tried to laugh at me. corny–ss emcees
they lack degrees. ayyo, they’re wack

[verse 2: pumpkinhead]
intro: ph puff endo behind tinted windows
emcees must think slow like n-ggas that sniff blow and drink mo’
you couldn’t copy my words if you worked the night shift at kinkos
my style’s unorthodox like hermaphrodites
if you’re nice, i’ll p-ss the mic with the quickness. but if you’re wack
you’ll be infected with the sickness while my cl!ck is
skeming constantly like wall street business. ’98 is
our year for the taking (gimme that), conquering while you’re faking jax
we’ll be breaking backs. nevertheless, we’re makin’ tracks
that’s clever, black. all day (all day, n-gga). yo
we will be here forever like cats on broadway
and your crew’s gone, folded they -ss like a futon
my sh-t is hot and yours is lukewarm. this storm is of
catastrophic proportions, dropping emcees like abortions
so caution while i’m tossing from austin to boston

[verse 3: pumpkinhead]
i cause power outages, lump you up like cheese cottages
it’s not about the dollar, kid, so run as i demolish this
with hotter sh-t, i holler this with lava spit
burn a hole through your esophagus. n0body’s stopping us
we’re half of the earth’s populous. with one touch, i’ll turn your glocks
to dust, collect the props and bust. if you’ve got a girl
with a big b-tt, i give her a new c-ck to clutch
call spike—get on the bus. the mic i hold is brushed. the one you
hold is covered in rust. the world is loving us
n-gga, i’ll fill my dutch with your blood and guts (what a rush)
no wack emcee is coming up. you f-cking suck. i’ll run amok
with original blunted breed. yo, tell ’em something, seed

[interlude 1: the bad seed]
yo, how long do y’all think y’all gonna go on being wack? word up. ayyo, it’s real n-ggas, real emcees out here p-ssed at y’all n-ggas. word up. and we gon’ bring it to y’all, right now

[hook: pumpkinhead]
i came down to this earth to rid you of these wack emcees
(say what? say what?) these wack emcees
i came down to this earth to rid you of these wack emcees
(say what? say what?) these wack emcees
i hate these wack emcees, these player, mac emcees
these selling-crack emcees, booty-smack emcees
these gun-clap emcees all lack degrees
(yo, yo, word up) they’re just wack

[outro: the bad seed, pumpkinhead, and (meat pie)]
the bad seed: yo, yo. and if you’re wack and you know it, clap your hands. if you’re wack and you know it, clap your hands. (clap your hands. and you know it. want to show it. and you know it). yo, that n-gga right there ain’t clapping. (clap your hands). he know they’re wack and he ain’t clapping (clap, n-gga, clap!)
pumpkinhead: haha. o.b.s., makin’ records. you can never beat us. you heard me? haha

- pumpkinhead lyrics

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