Authentic lyrics

(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 basicsA twelve inch single, to get you out of The MatrixAway from the sellouts, lookin like Andy & AmosI'm not a super duper star, but I'm almost famousBut wait, have patience, my flow is so sacredThe rebirth of a culture they thought was outdatedLove it or hate it I made it and reshaped itAnd molded and folded it over kicks and sub basics (damn!)Some places refuse to just play itCause I'm not rhymin about guns drugs and court casesOr I'm hated cause my pigment is too shadedAnd I don't wear trucker hats, me whack, is a false statementMy raw cadence came with a call waitingSo I can switch over styles while you stand in awe jadedYour jaw's breakin while you walkin the hall pacinThinkin Pumpkinhead's authentic, and y'all all fakin[Chorus: sung]This is hip-hop music for your soulOriginal don'
t twist it or confuse it no no noAuthentic circa 1992 shit feel the glowOf 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 WestAuthentic hip-hop music, this is as good as it getsMarco laid down the tracks and I react with a flowJust like I did for Sway & Tech on the Wake Up ShowOhh, hold up you about to go nutsWhen you hear Revolution wax and scratch this tone upAuthentic, no Screw version or remixBut Eclipse'll deep six and flea fick even if the beat skipsI'm your new neighbor, best friend to a crossfaderBeyond you by light years, so they play me on Future FlavorsMarley Marl, Primo and Pete RockAnd Evil Dee'll bless this heat rock until the beat stopsBeat Junkies flip the tune and Skratch Piklzwill bump this all night that's right, it's that simpleCan't forget B-Mello, Seattle is on lockDJ Links in Canada got this record 'pon cockNon-stop, 'til 3001Can't forget Turntable Annihilists an
d DP-OneWe got that vibe and sound to bring chills to your bonesTakin you back to the knapsack and headphonesP.H. and M.P. straight keepin it liveAuthentic hip-hop, for 2005Okay, you got the gist of what I'm tryin to doIs bring it back to the year of 1992My lyrics inhabit a spirit and image you all missSo I, give it and spit it and rip it, awww shitI'm what you call a purist so my fitted and kicksflippin the script in the whip I want xzibit to pimpI'm an old man, I don't need diamond chains to make meSamuel Jackson's opposite, it's impossible to break meSince "Dynamic," my name's been well knownYour career's Mr. Glass and could shatter like frail bonesAww hell no! You know I'm up in the mixReppin hip-hop like a race and I'm runnin the shitMarathon in Babylon whether you Bloody or CripThey'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 bonesTaki
n you back to the knapsack and headphonesP.H. and M.P. straight keepin it liveAuthentic hip-hop, for 2005[scratched: "aww yeah!"]