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Song title: Pop Da Brown Hornet - The Undaground Emperor

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[intro: pop da brown hornet]
Yo, Im the undaground emperor
My albums for every body on the planet
This is hip hop right here
Nyc, from outta shaolin, new york
We bring you, the undaground emperor, baby
Hold on, hold on

[tanesse]
Duck for cover, deep from up under
Its the undaground emperor
Rugged style inventor
Shaolin representer
From gp the grain, recognize the name
Poppy da leavin niggas slang

[pop da brown hornet]
No more procrastinating, Im sick and tired of waitin
For my turn and burn, I gotta skip the line, I gotta go for mine
Im only intact, with actual fact
Pop da brown gotta get his, now that shaolins on the map
Cuz I was there in the trenches, rockin consequences
While cats was in their house brainstorming
Your family at the park, fillin under age performin
Stapleton held it down, parish through a swarmin
A gp affiliate, always kept it militant
Always known for bringin it, and thru the bullshit
I kept it lyrically fit, eager to spit
Kicked about four bars, left mcs scared and shit
They were either scared of the rhymes, or scared of the clique
If you was soft in 86, you was just another vict
But then we fought with fists, but now with clips
No gladiators or regulators, we got the bloods and the crips
When the drug game died out, this game chips sprouted
Its sad how the black man is easily regarded
But I cant the world, I only change me
You see, I went from a nice to a lethal mc

[interlude: smoke]
What the fuck yo? this is danger
Fuck yall niggas is lookin at?
Ya niggas dont know, ya niggas better act like ya know
This is shaolin, stapleton right here
Poppy da killin this shit

[pop da brown hornet]
Let it be known, exit the stone
When I die, burn me with two turntables and a microphone
Thats all I ask for is an mc burial
I live to die rubble, muthafuck a medal
Or a 21 gun salute, its really not needed
A product of the projects, consist to stay weeded
I told them I would do it, and if they chose not to believe it
Now they toke behind my back and label me conceited
And mad they cant do it like the undaground emperor
Takin mcs out since the 49 center
Takin mcs out way back in high school
Even took some mcs out on the block, callin the two
Rugged and raw, down to the core
Tappin ya jaw, now ya pickin ya self off the floor

[tanesse]
Duck for cover, deep from up under
Its the undaground emperor
Rugged style inventor

[pop da brown hornet]
Tossin mcs like dice, crushin em like ice
Fuck a freestyle, Im chargin them niggas the full price
I spit the head banger, boogie wally, spittin dirt
Im writin lyrics overtime, stay puttin it work
Dedicated like the sweat shop, fuck the next stop
Im takin the express all the way to success
And when I get there, Im blazin up a pound of cess
See imma die somethin, but it wont be stress
They aint nuthin like livin it up, not given a fuck
90 cents away from a buck, that shit suck
Nickel and dimin, state to state rhymin
On the fucked up label that keeps that ass winin
That shits for the birds livin off bread and water
Half time is over, lets start the third quarter
So I can start the slaughter, put these mcs out of order
There life spendin is shorter

[outro: pop da brown hornet]
Word up, peace to that nigga smoke
Peace to the nigga su (stapleton, park hills)
Word is bond, peace to the nigga rae (west brighton, new brighton)
Knowhatimean, peace to all them cats from stapletills
(jungle nills)
(the whole shao-lills, for reals, pop da brown, gettin down
For the muthafuckin crown, undaground emperor, five style inventor)
On real deals, all my click, hold it down, around the streets
All day every day baby, only the big cats live
Only cats