Ultramagnetic MC’s Poppa Large Lyrics

Funk Your Head Up Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 Introduction to the Funk
  • 2 Intro
  • 3 MC Champion
  • 4 Go 4 Yourz
  • 5 Blast From the Past
  • 6 Funk Radio
  • 7 Message From the Boss
  • 8 Pluckin’ Cards
  • 9 Intermission
  • 10 Stop Jockin’ Me
  • 11 Dolly and the Rat Trap
  • 12 The Old School
  • 13 Bust the Facts
  • 14 Murder and Homicide
  • 15 You Ain’t Real
  • 16 Make It Happen
  • 17 I Like Your Style
  • 18 Bi-Lingual Teaching
  • 19 Poppa Large
  • 20 Moe Love on the 1 and 2
  • 21 Porno Star
  • 22 The P.M.R.C. ID
  • 23 Chorus Line, Part 2
  • 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

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