Artist: Pumpkinhead
Album:  Orange Moon Over Brooklyn
Song:   I Just Wanna Rhyme
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Pumpkinhead]
Ladies and gentlemen, today we bring to you, Pumpkinhead
Brooklyn Academy, Marco Polo on the beat, yeah, c'mon!

I just wanna make good music, and do shows that's sold out
The only way I wouldn't spit rhymes is if I had no mouth
Steppin to me is dangerous, like Big Daddy Kane
walkin through white wall projects with his gold out
Oh wow, so now your thug crew wanna back down?
Y'all travel in new circus, y'all fools is ass clowns
I confront beef, don't get smacked down
Just go that-a-way, downstairs and stand down
I'm a known threat, yeah, and I'm fly like Boba Fett
Been rhymin since kung-fu on channel 5 and Robotech
And I love money, and women who buy me liquor
So if you neither of those then slide like Chinese slippers
My crew is the Ac', and we're back, with a vengeance
Niggaz is pussy on they period, tryin to stop my sentence
But you can't, and I'ma still go out on tour
You're just mad cause your spine is yellow like Sean Paul

[Chorus: Pumpkinhead]
I just wanna rhyme!
{*scratched*: "Yo, all I need is one mic, one beat, one stage" - Nas}
I just wanna rhyme!
{*scratched*: "I'ma rep, to the death of it!" - Nas}
I just wanna rhyme!
{*scratched*: "I just want, wanna innovate, and stimulate minds" - Common}
I just wanna rhyme!
{*scratched*: "What I stand for speaks for itself!" - Nas}

[Pumpkinhead]
I can't stop, it's like I'm on a roll now
You're not cool so like an anorexic bitch, you get no pounds
Step to the left, while I walk right past ya
I make dope songs, it's hard to match my DNA factor
A chubby rapper, a couple of extra pounds around the waist
So much breath control, I could spit a whole album in outer space
with no oxygen, right now I'm claimin what's mine
The crown of the underground so whatever y'all sayin is fine
Y'all lyin, you and me can never be equal, I spit from the heart
We don't believe you, you need more people, start a million man march!
I'm feelin parched, somebody pass me a Gatorade
And there can only be one of me, like the ace of spades
I made the grade, and then I hopped, over the fence
You upset, cause I put one in your wife's mouth like 50 Cent
I'm sorry, but when I'm tense I gotta let it go and vent
And her mouth was right there with a sign that said "open for rent"

[Chorus]

[Pumpkinhead]
I love rhymin, it's more than a job it's a passion
More than plaques, advances or sponsored fashion
It's a culture, not to be toyed with so the boy spit
rhymes that make your mind go 'Eww' like the smell of boiled shit
See first, I did it for the enjoyment
But now I won't front, I do it for the love in employment
See what my point is, is that you net nerds are annoying
Like hip-hop, revolves around you and the Pamper you're soilin
And the thugs on the street, frontin like what I spit is weak
Cause you and your crew wantin to battle me, and all got beat
Rule one, when you battle me, you're gonna get son'd
Especially when you say you're gonna shoot me and don't have a gun
Rule two, when you start singin like Ja Rule
Battle's over, and you're gettin beaten down with a bar stool
Numero three, when you rhyme about Bentleys and Humvees
But the only thing you pushin is a old pair of Oakleys!

[DP One scratches]
"You gotta be out of your FUCKIN mind!" - KRS-One
"All I need is one mic, one beat, one stage" - Nas
"I'ma rep, to the death of it!" - Nas
"I just wanna innovate, and stimulate minds" - Common
"What I stand for speaks for itself!" - Nas

[ad libs to the end]