(feat. D.V. Alias Khrist)


[Pumpkinhead:]

Ha ha ha, yo where my Brooklyn crew at?

(We right here)

Yo where my Toronto crew at?

(Sayin we right here son)


This is where Pumpkinhead takes it back to the basics

A twelve inch single, to get you out of The Matrix

Away from the sellouts, lookin like Andy & Amos

I'm not a super duper star, but I'm almost famous

But wait, have patience, my flow is so sacred

The rebirth of a culture they thought was outdated

Love it or hate it I made it and reshaped it

And molded and folded it over kicks and sub basics (damn!)

Some places refuse to just play it

Cause I'm not rhymin about guns drugs and court cases

Or I'm hated cause my pigment is too shaded

And I don't wear trucker hats, me whack, is a false statement

My raw cadence came with a call waiting

So I can switch over styles while you stand in awe jaded

Your jaw's breakin while you walkin the hall pacin

Thinkin Pumpkinhead's authentic, and y'all all fakin


[Chorus: sung]

This is hip-hop music for your soul

Original don't twist it or confuse it no no no

Authentic circa 1992 shit feel the glow

Of Pumpkinhead and Marco Polo's new hit oh oh oh


[scratched: female moaning "OHHH!]


[Pumpkinhead:]

This is for all the DJ's from the East to the West

Authentic hip-hop music, this is as good as it gets

Marco laid down the tracks and I react with a flow

Just like I did for Sway & Tech on the Wake Up Show

Ohh, hold up you about to go nuts

When you hear Revolution wax and scratch this tone up

Authentic, no Screw version or remix

But Eclipse'll deep six and flea fick even if the beat skips

I'm your new neighbor, best friend to a crossfader

Beyond you by light years, so they play me on Future Flavors

Marley Marl, Primo and Pete Rock

And Evil Dee'll bless this heat rock until the beat stops

Beat Junkies flip the tune and Skratch Piklz

will bump this all night that's right, it's that simple

Can't forget B-Mello, Seattle is on lock

DJ Links in Canada got this record 'pon cock

Non-stop, 'til 3001

Can't forget Turntable Annihilists and DP-One


We got that vibe and sound to bring chills to your bones

Takin you back to the knapsack and headphones

P.H. and M.P. straight keepin it live

Authentic hip-hop, for 2005


Okay, you got the gist of what I'm tryin to do

Is bring it back to the year of 1992

My lyrics inhabit a spirit and image you all miss

So I, give it and spit it and rip it, awww shit

I'm what you call a purist so my fitted and kicks

flippin the script in the whip I want xzibit to pimp

I'm an old man, I don't need diamond chains to make me

Samuel Jackson's opposite, it's impossible to break me

Since "Dynamic," my name's been well known

Your career's Mr. Glass and could shatter like frail bones

Aww hell no! You know I'm up in the mix

Reppin hip-hop like a race and I'm runnin the shit

Marathon in Babylon whether you Bloody or Crip

They're gonna scream out my name like, "You son of a bitch!"


[Chorus]


[scratched: female moaning "OHHH!]


[Pumpkinhead]

We got that vibe and sound to bring chills to your bones

Takin you back to the knapsack and headphones

P.H. and M.P. straight keepin it live

Authentic hip-hop, for 2005


[scratched: "aww yeah!"]