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