Lyrics:

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 pimplehead, 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, wickable 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(4x)

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 ragtop, 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 LA juice
Hitting the top, feeling the rim
Getting a trim, I never rhyme like them
On and on, on and on, on and on