Mr. Complex, Eddie Brock, Don Scavone, Pumpkinhead, and What? What? Freestyle (Scenes of the Underworld)

[Intro: Mr. Complex]
Alright. Wha? Whoo. Uh, uh. Mixtape galore. Eddie Ill, D.L. Underground community is worldwide. Check me out. I go by the name of Mr. Complex. Mr. Comflex. Check, check. Yo

[Verse 1: Mr. Complex]
See, I could run with the
Hardest of the hard. I’m the Midas in the squad
I breeze with the rest of the peas in the pod
I nod my knot and God forbid I stop
I got spots to rock. I got shots to shoot
It’s like this: I should enlist in an institute
Because the world is out of control. It’s taking its toll
As I roll on rock, rock some soul or roll
Unfold the bill. Yo, still me you kill
Because you ain’t the ill. Just chill until. Mom, come get your
Sit your ass down, smoke this foul, and smile
While I take this picture, hit you or I’ll split ya
Fit you in before lunch. Still got a hunch that I crunched your whole bunch
Your whole fraidy “good goobily goop” like Grady
It’s all good like all-wood furniture, have no concern with ya
This don’t matter with the incredible
The way I express myself is federal. The way I undress myself
Will get downright nasty, so cover the eyes of the children
I want security posted twenty-four hours around the building
I want raby Rottweilers with barb wire fences guarding my sentences
I want kung fu masters with swords and staffs guarding my paragraphs
So the next fool thinking about biting, I’ll show him how uncool it is
Uh, there it is. One time. Next to flex
Who’s next to flex after Mr. Complex?

[Interlude 1: Don Scavone]
Don Scavone, baby. Makin’ Records clique keeping it thick, know’m saying? Yo, peace to all my family peoples. Word up. ‘Cause, yo

[Verse 2: Don Scavone]
It’s the Don Dada smoking lah, fucking marijuana
I keep it higher than a Mexican playing piñata
Clipping a hassa leave me doing the Lambada
Maybe the Cha-Cha to get me closer to them tatas
Gomorrah operas—snitches are singing like Sinatra
I got to regulate, flexing my weight New York to Gaza
Don’t try to see me. I’ll make tú tiene que hacer pipí
After you weewee, I’ll bust a cap up in a three-piece
Sí, no me toca. Sí, hoy doy la banda loca
Vende la coca, dame la planta y la chocha
That’s how I manage. Italian-born and speaking Spanish
Far from the average, I’ll make suckers duck and disparage
Sorbete puto, you pussy like fucking menudo
Agua sin dudo. My flow is as sweet as a Kudo
And so that you know, I’m telling y’all plain as it get
I’ll pour the rain on your set, especially the rain of the TEC
Dangerous threat, I’m shooting but ain’t aiming it yet
You fuckers is ducking from strays in the neck
I’ll blaze it direct. The mente de la lengua was standing tall
Hand on my balls, telling the world, "¡Chupa mi pinga!"

[Interlude 2: Don Scavone and Eddie Brock]
Don Scavone: So who want to jump in this ringa?
Eddie Brock: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. What, what?
Don Scavone: Makin’ Records
Eddie Brock: Yo, yo

[Bridge 1: Eddie Brock]
It’d be that nigga Mr. Brock. I got the vicious plots
Listen, man. Get your fam, get your block, get your Glock
Nigga, Mr. Brock. I got every spot
Listen, man. Yo, check it out, yo

[Verse 3: Eddie Brock]
My automatic lungs spit poison wind—E. Brock the venomous
When I’m finished, it’s required to detox the premises
Giving speed knots that’s limitless. Your official arch nemesis
Present you dark images, my pistols spark timidness
And diminished hearts of menaces
Converting their criminal ways to acts of innocence
You know who I be—nigga, check the ID
E-double-D-I-E Brock, occupation: local crimey
So y’all fronting hard better be easing back. I’ll load a Glock
Twist your cap like a soda top and leave it flat
‘Cause you’re soft drink and I’m hard liquor. You’re joke posse
My squad’s thicker. Brock be the nigga you cannot see/can Nazi
Like swastikas. I done lodged jiggas in the necks
Of extra large niggas, so fuck your resumé, your stats, and your figures
Hard rocks get pulverized to sediments. I’ll represent for self
Don’t need no Secret Service to guard my presidents
Poetic excellence blowing spots like evidence
Front and watch my regimen swarm your residence like the pestilence

[Interlude 3: Eddie Brock and Pumpkinhead]
Eddie Brock: What? Nigga, Mr. Brock, northeast Bronx. What, what, what, yo? All beats stomp, kicking cats in the face. What up? What up?
Pumpkinhead: Haha, yeah. Haha. Who’s up next? Aha, I think it’s What? What? Aha, yo

[Verse 4: What? What? (aka Jean Grae)]
I’ll rock the microphone
Until your brain explodes. Continuous mass verbatim
Jump in the booth and just assassinate ‘em
Heads, I decapitate ‘em. Your spine’s left dilapidated
Crowd fascinated. Cock the verbal gat and spray ‘em
My raps created quick with the voice fated to hit
Since the grade of fifth, rebel like a slave with a whip
I stopped time with just the thought of a rhyme
My pen turns pads to miracles like water to wine
The only crime I’ll tell you that I committed is killing emcees
I’m too cool—my hot shit hits chilling degrees
Verbal villainous sprees like the sting of some bees
I’ll slap the mic out your hand like you’re spilling some trees
You’re dealing with these real niggas Makin’—don’t sleep on it
And keep my name out your mouth—you shouldn’t speak on it
Much love to friends, come see me for all the foes
What? What?. Yo, Pumpkinhead, kill these niggas with flows

[Verse 5: Pumpkinhead]
My flow’s synonymous with communists, locking it, monsterous
Preposterous, PH stand tall like an obelisk
The novelist marvelous, fuck your head up like sparking dust
Take the pain in the rain—my style don’t rust
Bones crush when the microphones touch the hand
The foes rush the land where I stand, but can’t withstand
My show with Ray-Bans. You catch a suntan
Brother man, that’ll dry your salivary glands
I got flow like Aquaman, quick to snap like rubber bands
I’m your idol, highest title, numero uno
I am Puerto Rican, sipping Bacardi with jugo
And you know that emcees that bite like Cool Joe
For the props, they get cho-ch-chopped like judo
Dropping jewels, fools get played like menudo
Pumpkinhead leave you dead. We collide like sumos