Backpacker Week Presents Volume III: Grand Puba

Puba. One word.

Those throaty rhymes where you could hear the juice in the corner of his lips. Many images conjured.

The unmistakable low eyes.



O-kay o-kay o-kay, what more could I say?
Alamo get the boom and.. parlay parlay
Im far from the average, civilize the savage
When Im low on protein Im with the bean soup and cabbage

Skins on the diet, kick the flavor, cause a riot
Do a show
and get the dough and then Im off to the hyatt

So tie me on the spliff, aint no ands or if
And if you really wanna riff you just might end up playin stiff

Girbauds hangin baggy, hilfiger on the top Knapsack on the back,
thats just my flavor hobbes
As my man gives a zigga zigga,
watchin three grow bigga bigga
To pos k, thats my nigga
Here goes the wreck, whaddayou expect?
If you wanna see some wreck, send cash, not a check
Grand puba, more than a public figure

Quick to kick the bone up the butt of a golddigger
Now tic-tac-toe means I hit three in a row

If I do a show then you better have my dough
Low, low, well how low can you go?

Call on grand puba if you really need a pro
Cause my shits more rugged than g.i. joe
Dont front honey, act like you know

Now big up to my brooklyn mob (brooklyn! brooklyn!)
Big up to my uptown mob (uptown! uptown!)

Who better represents Bkpcker than Puba?

Sh*t. He MIGHT even be the inargural Backpacker.

Puba was one of the only golden era cats, besides Bussie, to give us one of the flyest ‘GON SOLO Albums ever.

There was a minute last year, while warming up before running on the treadmill, I would listen to Reel to Reel.

Talk about EXTENSIVE replay value.

At the end of the day.

It comes down to what you want from the music.

Can WE live.

Can we have a little of everything?

Party and Bullsh*t.

A lil fun sittin up trippin on some 22’s and video vixens gettin some D’s.

Some garden variety misogyny and sexy gun play.

And some stories about the 360 degrees of life.

For trill.