S.O.U.L. Purpose ft. Pumpkinhead - “Take Cover!”
[Produced by King Koncepts and Zvi Edelman]
[Verse 1: Mazzi]
Son, I’m built for this. Hit you with the complex simpleness
Infamous titan who will clash like some cymbal hits
Smash something rigorous, blast like a nickel. It’s
Past, present, future shit. Last less ingenious
Corner markets like bodegas, rhyme store convenience
What? Where? When? Why? How? My words shake wall
Tight flows kicks them Tae Bo flicks from Blanks
And if we battle [?]. Y’all
Are poor carbon copies like Shyne and Lil Zane
[?] in the Uptown Shake or Harlem Shimmy
I gave your girl this fat dick. She’s kind of skinny
Stand candid, Grand Canyon, open-handed
Higher standard. Please believe and understand it
Don’t represent hip hop—man, I am it
Be NTP, low-post, paint pivotal
Smacked by tracks, show you I’m the unfuckwithable
[Hook: Mazzi]
Noun, verb, syntax, word serial killer
Heads that put out, ain’t too many seemingly iller
Take cover in your shack, condo, or villa
Discover ain’t too many bringing it realer
Catch me dope with no filler. We ain’t stopping for skrilla
But we work hard and draw tracks with pure vigor
Our mission give permission for us to scare because
Pictures at hand expand and plan quicker
[Verse 2: Pumpkinhead]
You battling me? There’s no way that you could win
That’s like driving blindfolded after drinking a box of gin
You’re nervous. Somebody give him some oxygen
When you rhyme, it gets so quiet I could hear somebody drop a pin
I’m a titan at this off-the-head shit and you’re a midget
The odds of me losing are slim like the number one digit
Stepping to me is risky business like
Tom Cruise getting back with Nicole Kidman—I ain’t kidding
What I’m spitting is sort of a renegade rifle rap
I’ll chill in the city with a mask over my grill like Michael Jack
I’ve been gone for a while. Now I want my title back
I’ll split guys in half. I’m nice like that. I’ll make your vitals flat
Can you decipher that? It’s hard to translate my rhyme
I’m so nice—fuck that—I’ll beat your ass and mind
So quick, you’d think I was throwing gang signs
In a drive-by in a car full of dreads looking like Fry Guys
[Hook: Mazzi]
Noun, verb, syntax, word serial killer
Heads that put out, ain’t too many seemingly iller
Take cover in your shack, condo, or villa
Discover ain’t too many bringing it realer
Catch me dope with no filler. We ain’t stopping for skrilla
But we work hard and draw tracks with pure vigor
Our mission give permission for us to scare because
Pictures at hand expand and plan quicker
[Verse 3: Mazzi]
Host a clothes rack from my lips to where my toes at
Half you rappers’ voices be irritating like [?]
Other half needs [?] his whole back
Rock to my heartbeat, I’ll rock to a soul clap
Rock to a bounce beat, I’ll rock to an old track
Rocket-fist razor hands, they’re coming down like bozack
Know that you won’t last a full blast. Now hold that
Flame you on some other shit. I agree that your flow’s crap
[Verse 4: Pumpkinhead]
Your flow’s bad. It’s so sad. I’ll still
Be spitting while you’re online with your SSI check
With your old ass. I’m so fast, I could run
Backwards in circles, creating the Earth’s reversal
And you’re so trash, everybody know you won’t last
Even your girl don’t respect you—she gave you herpes
But you thought it was a throat rash. Now you got no skills
No fans, no ass. You won’t pass? You got no class
[Hook: Mazzi]
Noun, verb, syntax, word serial killer
Heads that put out, ain’t too many seemingly iller
Take cover in your shack, condo, or villa
Discover ain’t too many bringing it realer
Catch me dope with no filler. We ain’t stopping for skrilla
But we work hard and draw tracks with pure vigor
Our mission give permission for us to scare because
Pictures at hand expand and plan quicker
[Outro: Mazzi]
Plan quicker, Goddamn it! [?]! Whoo! Like that!
