Poppa Large Lyrics - Ultramagnetic Mc's

I get in shape and do my physical fitness 

Your head's numb, so your brains a miss this 

Pick 'em up, eat 'em up, pick 'em up, beat 'em up 

Pick 'em up pimple head, pick 'em up picky 

I roll wit globs and I come real sticky 

Ripping the mic, I plug it up in your ears 

Crazed and brewer. I'm coming out like beers 

Like Rheingold, Miller, Coors, and Buds 

I'm a eat 'em wit popcorn and treat 'em like suds you duds 

Coming out the wick wack, wicky, wick able wack 

Black jack, that's a fact, writing exact behind your back 

The funk rhyme to master, blaster 

Kicking up in a brainstorm, rainstorm 

Rap storm, rap form, rap time, rap rhyme 

Rap class, I'm here to fail and to pass 

To continue, from the more, hype tip 

I roll and rock, rock and roll 

Jazz and pop, rhythm and Blues 

Dance and fusion, pain confusion 

Look at the lights, what a night on the town 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

Now I'm back to funk, freak the funk 

Hype the funk, swipe the funk and all that junk 

I get busy on 'em, communicate wit the world 

Man, woman, a baby boy and a girl 

Poppa large looking out the pawn shop 

Taking stroud while your face and arms drop 

Stop, look, learn to read, learn to write learn to talk, learn to walk 

And watch your step though, I'm hype and ripe though 

Kleptomaniac, my rhyme is psycho 

A Ricky Ricardo, a Guy Lombardo 

Sporting a rag top, an El Dorado 

Step into Hollywood, I'm screening the boulevards 

The rhymes is gain type, I'm ready to pull it's card 

Jack or Ace, King or Queen, call me the deuce 

I'm pouring L.A. juice hitting the top, feeling the rim 

Getting a trim, I never rhyme like them 

On and on, on and on, on and on until the break of dawn 

I go overtime, rock the mic in nighttime 

Daytime, switching off to Prime time 

Specifically, strolling back in the west time 

Rock the funk wit the mic in the east rhyme 

Hype and dope, hype the frame, the mic is smoking 

Yo, I ain't joking 

Rhyme to kill, rhyme to murder, rhyme to stomp 

Rhyme to ill, rhyme to romp 

Rhyme to smack, rhyme to shock, rhyme to roll 

Rhyme to destroy anything toy boy 

On the microphone 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

You're dripping sweaty, coming hard on your neck 

As I flow and grow from head to toe 

Seeking a style like John McEnroe 

Dissing 'em all, serving them wit the mic stand 

Like Prince and Michael coming out wit a big band 

The crowd is loud, you can pay as the manager 

Run wit the money, I pull the trigger and damage ya 

Boom, taking life more serious 

I may sound lyrical and very mysterious 

Rhymes are grip tight, no grams to kill more 

A son of Sam, how could I begin more 

Grabbing the mic, you see the dark and shadows 

You're in living hell, the funk, pound to pound 

The funk ignited, hands are writing, brains dividing 

I'm coming out in sighting 

Like I'm Blackula, a better man that Dracula 

Spectacular and not irregular in fact you are speaking impopular 

Rhymes are moved and you can't be stop wit the 

Beat as it goes to the rhyme that flows 

Like a coke in a straw burning up in your nose 

That's a bad habit, stepping out on stage one 

Drop the mic, come and turn to page one 

Look at the master, my range is higher 

My lyrical burns, your brain's on fire 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast 

I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East coast