DJ Unknown & DJ Mekalek ft. Absolute and Pumpkinhead - “Unbelievable”
[Emcee(s): Absolute and Pumpkinhead]
[Producer(s): DJ Premier (Original Instrumental from The Notorious B.I.G. - "Unbelievable")]
[DJ Mix: DJ Unknown and DJ Mekalek]
[Scratches: DJ Unknown and DJ Mekalek]

[Intro: Absolute]
Uh, yeah. Listen up. OK, listen. This is Tyler Durden. And I’ma’na spit some shit and you motherfuckers are gonna like it. And if you don’t, we’re gonna be fist-fighting. DJ Unknown, DJ Mek, boys and girls. Check it out. Raw shit

[Verse 1: Absolute]
I got an
Appetite for destruction, a heavy thirst for the mic
For every verse that I write, this very Earth could ignite, and I’m
About to strike the match on the back of this fucking package
And, after the world burns, I’ll laugh as if nothing happened
Half of you suck at rapping and don’t want to face the music
You want to pick up the mic but ain’t got what it takes to use it
Want me to put this mic down? You might have to fight me for it
‘Cause right after night, before dawn, it might become slightly morbid
I make dogs bark at the Moon and foam at the mouth, got
Your girl naked at home, waiting to bone on the couch. Stupid
What you thought? I rock backpacks at shows?
Nah, I’m a Mack, I attract actress hoes
Ab’ stacks the dough while you cats practice flows
My gats match my clothes. I’ll throw rap acts for rows, n***a
Go ahead, test me. I’ll work well under pressure
Like carrying guns confident, lead through metal detectors
Right next to a German Shepherd and special weapons inspector. I ain’t
Elvis but I’ll be on stage, making sexual gestures
Over a Smut Peddlers record, exposing the
Length of a cock size most sluts never expected
I’m a regular Hefner, undressing a heifer quicker
Than her best friend can tell me, “You better respect her”
Charming and handsome, I’m holding Osama Bin Laden for ransom
While paying homage to Muhammad, [?] a handgun
And I ain’t even religious. I’ll shoot semen in witches
And drown you in holy water in church while reading the scriptures
I’m the same man you told police you seen in the pictures
Leaving the scene of the crime, looking mean and malicious
Sticking my head out the vehicle, screaming at bitches like
“I love the way your booty looks in them jeans when it twitches”
I’m a smooth talker. I’ll make the mood softer, then
Move awkward and fuck up the group with a rude offer
My name’s Tyler. I’ll battle any cat for their name
And smack any rapper trying to come out rapping the same
I’ve mastered the game, blast at your brain, then practice my aim
Then laugh at your pain while singing the song from Alice in Chains
And for those who know me back when I used to roll with the Lounge
Know I’ll come at anyone who say that they holding a crown
And for those who don’t know me, I hear the talk going around
But y’all motherfuckers just better be glad I’m toning it down
Come on
[Hook: Samples with Scratches by DJ Unknown and DJ Mekalek] (x2)
"It's time to roll my sleeves, fuck a few emcees up" - Sample from Tash on Tha Alkaholiks - "Last Call"
"Straight up and down, ain't no comparing me, see?" - Sample from Mad Skillz - "The Conceited Bastard"
"It's time to roll my sleeves, fuck a few emcees up" - Sample from Tash on Tha Alkaholiks - "Last Call"
“When the mic in my hand, bitch, it's supposed to be like this" - Sample from Mad Skillz - "The Conceited Bastard"

[Verse 2: Pumpkinhead]
To y’all cats that think y’all gonna stop my production: you got
Another thing coming. I’ll make your heart malfunction
Fucking with Pumpkin? You’d cut yourself and have salt
Rubbed in your flesh. Faggot, I’ll run with the best
Makin’ Records, it’s like we’re under arrest
Cardiac pump in your chest. Punk, you a mess
You a bitch n***a—you probably got lumps in your breast. I’ll
Spit raw. It’s like I’m a coke distributor. Cliques
Fall and give praise to me like I’m a minister
I administer doses of methadone through headphones
After I battle these beefing emcees
All that’s left of them is ribs and neck bones. You’ll hear
A scream in the crowd from a widow in white
Asking God, “Why?” and “What’s the meaning of life?”
I’m that sun that can’t be touched, supernova ‘bout
To bust, burning star asteroid that’ll rip
Your face off this Earth like Castor Troy
With two golden pistols, Desert Eagles, United
States government-issued, and two rusted needles
I’ll crush your ego. I’m so cold, you got to rock
Fur hats around me like Russian people. I can’t
See someone out there tryna become my equal
Unless I volunteer my body for stem cell research
When I picked up a pen, Heaven fell and Hell reversed
I told you I’m like Edward Scissorhands on this mic stand
Fuck that. I’m so nice, I’ll battle you and your hype man
I’ll spit a hot sixteen, leave you with cracked ribs
Then battle your hype man and beat him just with adlibs
[Outro: Pumpkinhead]
Repping BK, Brooklon, Brooknam, Medina. So many names, so little time. Yeah. Hmm, what’s a mixtape without me? Huh?