SP Balboa

by Chopperman & Chief Bob




Beats by Chief Bob
Rhymes by Chopperman



released December 22, 2015



all rights reserved


feeds for this album, this artist


Chopperman Lawrence, Kansas

contact / help

Contact Chopperman

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Track Name: Round One
i've had enough of this gluttonous nonsense
i'm fat enough to hurt something just walking
i had the fun, i'm not mad at what the cost is
i add it up and form a plan to pay it off with
its simple, work harder, eat smarter
smoke less herb, drink less bombers
think more open, speak less often
listen more close and act less obnoxious
get less pissed off and talk less shit
pull this soul up out the toilet
alcoholism made me throw it up
alcohol is some crazy potent stuff
i'm not trying to quit because i've had enough
i'm trying to quit because i can't get enough
when the ride on the wagon is rough
i'm not falling off, i'm hanging in tough
reminds me of that one line
i can quit, i've done it like a hundred times
but i'm stronger-minded now then ever
because its feeling like its now or never
all the things i do i'm about to do better
i'm pulling it together like some shoe leather
tight and loose at the same time
like this loop and these rhymes
i think songs without both of these sides
are like a peace sign poke in the eyes
from day to night, A to B side
i'm staying busy like a killer beehive
all the way live in the 785
i resonate the vibes this heavenscape provides
Clinton Lake trails are my favorite place to hike
the parkway trail is my favorite place to bike
my paper route is my favorite place to drive
Larry Town is my favorite place alive
i thought up this line on Naismith Drive
delivering pies on my daily grind
rocking that new Parallax comp
not the kind of cats to wear an ascot
or an ass hat, they're raw and thats that
they packed a cosmic bong and passed that
there's no need to fly any higher
when i'm lighting a fire underneath Ursa Minor
like that dude MacGyver, i'm a tool designer
finding ways to get loose without the screwdriver
or more like MacGruber
when in a Hop Stoopid induced stupor
looking for peace in a duece duecer
two or three and i throw the dueces to concerns
two or three sheets to the wind
the wobbling is fun until the storm comes in
and topples the SS Chopper Express
off balance with all the excess
fiendish for the caffiene and the alcohol
the sugar, the salt and the cannibinol
but i'm about to cut back on them all
about to comeback and combat the withdrawal
with a vengeance
with my instrument
SP Balboa
P.S. thanks for listening
Track Name: Round Two
two hundred and forty pounds
two blunts and a forty ounce
about to fight through the final round
a bout that might send chills down
your spinal column and kick you in the ass
before the beast comes and sicks you in a flash
sticks you in the past, six feet under grass
it sniffs along your path, slip and it attacks
i spit and set traps and listen for its yelps
hoping i can have one minute for myself
no time to chill when your chased by a killer
with every kick of the break i get iller
how many licks of the bass to the center
of the soul, i'll let you know when i get there
enter the ring, Winter to Spring
Summer to Autumn, the entire thing
its time to train with all our strength
trying to think with all our brain
time to face the awful pain
brought from taking off this weight
its gotta go, its not too late
its possible, i promise you
its hard to smell the tropic blooms
when inhaled with toxic fumes
i do not know who the hell i'm talkin to
neighbors must think i'm nuts when i rock the room
like a booth, its not a studio apartment
its a one bedroom with a studio quadrant
the view from the padio's not shit
but from the microphone the sight is so awesome
i can close my eyes and go all in
riding flows right into the ocean
some drown trying to go against the current
some lounge just floating on the surface
somewhere in between i record this
swimming with the purpose of becoming a porpoise
no forcing this metamorphasis
who knows how many more metaphors there is
i'm taking my time like tortoises
with the fortitude of forty-two walruses
its Chopperman and Chief Bob again
making noggins spasticly nod again
tossing jabs to clean clocks again
sometimes i say something and mean opposite
we contradict, we're not perfect
we're all persons, weird but not worthless
together as the earth spins, tethered in its orbit
i looked at the moon as a treasure and absorbed it
then poured it through this portal euphoric
don't expect some corny little chorus
i wrote this in the rain in a forest
on a potent strain from the florist
i'm focused and my aim is to flourish
this open range is enormous
its growing grains that are gorgeous
a golden harvest that stands through the storm winds
Track Name: Round Three
rain falls down
and so do i but not for the count
i've lost bouts
but not one time was i knocked out
eye of the tiger
heart of a lion, soul on fire
feeling stronger than Bill Kazmaier
even though i'm shaped more like Rob Reiner
still a prison wall climber
going up an over the barb wire
not a million dollar fighter
still balling as a billion bar writer
when i pull an all nighter
taking hold of a vibe's verse and vice versa
i search high and low to find the right words
so when they flow we might float skyward
but what goes up must come down
unless it goes up until its up and out
but i'm not trying leaving
i'd like an nice and easy flight this evening
at a height where sights deceived
just enough to slightly lose sight of evil
from the vinyl to the needle
through these two SPs to the people
peace to the people
unity needs a U, ew
who am i kidding
i'm a recluse too, i admit it
saturday night, i missed it
i was watching Saturday Night Live lifted
again, who am i kidding
i was working then napping then working again
then i watched SNL sunday morning
gotta work 8 hours just to chill for for a minute
still i'm far from bitching, i feel more tremendous
than ever before in this short existence
sure its intense
soaring through storms when the turbulence hits
when it does i just remember this
it won't help one bit to get nervous
often the fear of the conflict
is far worse than the skirmish
because the fear is the part of it
that hurts the longest, stop squirming
don't let pain box you in
some hits are best taken on the chin
not even Muhammad Ali
could dodge them all, even the Gods bleed
if i'm Balboa, Bob's Apollo Creed
and he's training me to be strong as T
driving me electronically
yet strong as deisel when Chief's on the beat
i raise the bar in sets of sixteen
competing against my best exclusively
improving through these spars steadily
until i step in the ring for the head of the king
Track Name: Round Four
here comes another cut
rough enough to snap a neck like an uppercut
from Clubber Lang, swinging swift as a boomerang
a pair of fists equivalent to a puma's fangs
i do my thing, murderous by nature
consider all of my predators endangered
the first of a new breed is morphing through me
i can't wait to see what i'm about to be
but i'm not about to be in a hurry
haste makes waste and leads to injury
freaking out takes a lot of energy
to calm down take a lot in when you breathe
oxygen is key like water and sleep
those 3 things bring a lot of relief
some spirits got a disease
and musicians are the doctors for these
best believe, Chopper and Chief
rock degrees called SP PHDs
check my philosophy
like KRS with BDP
OMG i'm goin' off
like Biz Markie at Albee Square Mall
Beastie as MCA, Ad Rock
and Mike D at Madison Square Garden
god damn, i'm on a magic carpet
and no nihilists are about to piss on it
but thats the wrong flick
this protagonist is no pacifist
no zoologist but its so obvious
this shit goes hard as a hippopotomus
no tiptoeing on top of this monolith
this gemstone is meant for marching with
right, left, right, left
lets redefine a flight of steps
when the mind is beyond the clouds
we can fly with feet on the ground
me and Chief Bob are bound
to keep rocking sounds the bring the walls down
gotta shout out the SP Battalion
one day i'll make us some SP medalions
SP Balboa, the L-Town Stallion
horsing around, the rapping rapscallion
passing out albums, mapping out outlets
casting out doubts in magic sound fountains
dancing victory laps around tracks the
fam sent liberally, i cannot thank them
enough, the forum's a diamond in the rough
big up Sakman for showing me whats up
SP fam stand up!
lets keep funkin' bandcamp up
with the rugged and raw type bumpin'
what the fuck is a quantize button
tantric 404 play, all night pumpin'
brings new meaning to a long time comin'
there's a mountain with a nirvanic summit
before the sun sets, we're climbing up it
setting up camp around a fire pit
and passing around a fire spliff
blasting a sound system wireless
just big batteries and a fire mix
fire breaks and fire licks
fire bakes tired souls' viruses
Track Name: Round Five
stepping into the square circle
prepared to turn a rival's head purple
for the title, best not bet on their survival
they were already dead on their arrival
they brought knives to a fight full of rifles
even the ref is frightful, i go psycho
like old Mike Tyson wrestling a lion
i don't defy death, its death thats in defiance
when i clinch my fist around the mic and strike
quick like a viper with timing tight
float like a butterfly, sting like a bee
nobody busted rhymes like Ali
hospitalize a brick
i'm so mean i make medicine sick
traumatize a stone
i'm so cold i froze the microphone
frostbite a boulder
a giant block of ice is not colder
paralize a megalith
i'm so scary i could terrify an exorcist
terrorize a Pterodactyl
when i fly my Pegasus into battle
euthanize an instrumental
when i inject ruthless rhymes in the middle
vaporizing the indo
i've been blowin' since, oh, i forget yo
i can get high, i can get low
a bit bipolar and slightly schizo
but its alright, i need both sides
even though they might lead to ego rides
its no small task to swallow pride
if you can't it might swallow you live
and you'll be stuck in the stomach of a puppet
playing yourself like some sick ventriloquist
i skipped acting class and ripped the syllabus
if i play a role its an individualist
when i take hold of the pen and scribble its
fatal to more than the instrumental its
able to kill mental jibberish
listen to yourself like you listen to this
are you in control or living a script
written ficticious with restrictive intent
because the author of it does not give a shit
about anything other than the dividends
in this grid fitting in is expensive
we're conditioned to spend it the minute we get it
but materialism isn't the enemy
when reasonable it advances humanity
the enemy is imperialist greed
and it seems to be too powerful to beat
but i believe if enough of us defeat
our demons we can gut the mother beast
no justice, no motherfucking peace
so motherfuck those corrupt police
cowards with power get power trips
you can't protect and serve without courage
those who truly do get much respect
but the rest can get a sucker punch instead
like a boxer holds fists up to deflect
try not let them fuck with your head
when septic vibes get sent in your direction
trust your reflexes and duck the connection
there's nothing wrong with being defensive
it comes along with independence
i'm standing tall and intending
to fend for myself until the ending
life brings everyone to their knees
only the strong get back on their feet
get up!
Track Name: Round Six
kicking back in my early thirties
thinking back to my early twenties
25th Street and Belle Haven
apartment number one in the basement
i called that place the beat cave
i wish i could say that those were the days
i felt hopeless and frail
i was afraid to open my mail
i told the whole world go to hell
and it did in the circle where i dwelled
i felt like a child in a battlefield
i held my notepad like a shield
and my SP was my escape
i'd fly away to higher planes
when the vinyl played through the RCAs
i could hardly wait to chop the replays
i'd get home from work and not even change
just straight to the beat machine and blaze
no concern for amounts of plays
this was before i flew out to cyberspace
hundreds of the beats that i would make
would never see the light of day
but they were surely not in vain
they're probably the reason i'm not insane
i always felt compelled to do this
i never knew if i'd make some killer music
but i knew that i had to try to
the pads were vital from the first sample i looped
my last names starts with SP
and when i'd sign things i'd stop at SP
its even that way on my ID
under my giant dome with stoned eyes, see
i don't condone toking and driving
but won't deny it was my mode when writing this
in the still of night on a road thats lightless
i let the mind drift but hold the eyes fixed
on the route because as much as i reflect
the main focus stays on what lies ahead
i can't really enjoy the present
when deep down i know i'm being reckless
when we sense that we're threatened
our nervous system, it can get tense
and when its overstressed we might panic
it can turn a peaceful mind manic
countless times i've had it happen
but now i'm the last guy to act frantic
i've had so many panic attacks
one day i started attacking them back
now i react like its a sparring match
that i'm happy to have with that darling bitch
i'm not afraid of the next rematch
nowadays i almost always win
Track Name: Round Seven
halfway uphill and i'm out of breath
but i can't turn around, i'd rather death
and i can't take a break, i'm being chased
these bills bite like birds of prey
they eat away our ability to say
its a wonderful world and a beautiful day
i spent years making near minimum wage
in a mental state near Eminem rage
i was looking for something to blame
until one day when my luck seemed to change
i was a line cook at a diner
until i got so drunk i got fired
and each job that proceeded it
has been better than those previous
now i've got two and i dig them both
especially since i don't need them both
for me, two jobs is the way to go
because i don't feel trapped even when i'm broke
if i lose or leave job A
i can work more at B and be okay
we get stuck in spirit cuffs
until we make the system work for us
these corporations are murderous
we must make them earn our trust
we don't need them, they need us
without our business, they'd be done
to stage a revolution, we don't need guns
we just need to watch where we spend these funds
and diversify where they come in from
this is Escapist Econ 101
this is eScaPe with a capital S and a capital P
B O B with the 303 and B A L B O A with the M I C
slaying ill beats all day
i don't need a hook, i throw a mean straight
straight to the chest and induce a sleep state
i could fire one of those and be finished
but i'd rather tease it with jabs for 3 minutes
until the final round and then knock it out
just before the final bell of this boxing bout
i walked around the spot a clown
but on this box i feel godly now
not on some meglomaniacal trip
but on some in control of my soul shit
feeling like the captain of my own ship
floating in an ocean of no ownership
going with the flow because when i become one with it
the pain doesn't feel like its a punishment
anymore, it feels more like a reward
as it brings more strength than money can afford
and more understanding than any can accord
can't buy experience it takes time and consciousness
truth won't arrive through the grapevine, i promise this
Track Name: Round Eight
on the shoulders of giants
dropping boulders on tyrants
obelisks pulverise them
with a piece of the earth they were trying
to claim they own when they stole it from lions
these wannabe dragons can't stump the sweet science
i'm slipping these jabs, ducking these crosses
jumping these obstacles, i got this
spitting raps is like skipping rope, just hopping
kick to snare, on the ground and off it
up and down, pumping muscles til exhaustion
guzzling water and huffing in oxygen
on a binge opposite of what its always been
clinching my fist to pull up my chin
over the bar and over again
going as hard as i ever have been
so inspired i'll never give in
so when i'm tired i'll catch that second wind
holding my cards with a develish grin
even though i'm givin it away if i win
after i buy a few things with it
like a new SP and name it Adrian
i'd use it for the hazy flips
and have another called Clubber for the craziness
also known as SP Baracus
with a black stripe and gold accents
perhaps even add some feather attachment
the stress doesn't stand a chance when
i connect the machine and commence the sampling
with the right attitude and the right amplitude
i travel to a high altitude
fly out the roost and find some power food
and bring some back so you guys can devour too
but don't expect it to be pre-chewed
its not a dish you can eat with a spoon
you need a fork, knife and teeth to tear through
the meat this stupendous beat just slow-brewed
for the troops from a true chief, respect due
if the loop was a soup it'd be grizzly bear stew
quite delectable and digestable
thats right, the instrumental's now intestinal
giving me energy indispensable
a minute previously it was infinitesimal
some things increase exponential
such is me and Chief's best potential
futuristicly presidential
my credit's a mess but check my credentials
you just might bet your whole check that i won't lose
even if the rival is the referee's nephew
i'll never retreat so i'll never need an excuse
i'm not ready for peace so i refuse a refuge
i'll rest soon as my foes are in tombs
and i piss on the stones of them too
those with standards low get subdued
so the status quo can improve
the slow and stagnant get moving or get moved
i know its sad but its still the truth
but telling them that is like pulling a tooth
thats why so many rappers spit bull in the booth
following orders from a wolf in a suit
they sell their soul then fill the hole with the loot
then act bulletproof at the photo shoot
see them at the store and its a different story
nothing is corny as fraudulent glory
any home thats planned and built poorly
is prone to get blown down when its stormy
good morning
Track Name: Round Nine
starting off the day right
despite the late night
think i might take a ride
on my badass Rat Rod bike
you can laugh at the basket on the front
but thats basket's blasting lots of funk
if the batteries in the small one are dead
i bring the medium boombox instead
rock some Nehruvian Doom on cassette
or a mix from my dude Johnny Quest
whatever it is, its gotta be fresh
doesn't need to be new to breathe a new breath
that helps push me to the crest
up where the scenic view's the best
and Kansas looks beautiful as Budapest
not a thing man builds can hold a candle
to the magesty of that which holds natural
actual magic's all around the world
from distant moons down to deep sea pearls
my favorite symbol is recycle
simple as it is, its meaning's vital
we find use for that which seems futile
like some fertilizer via poo pile
the darkest soil grows the most fruitful
harvest, toiling those shows true soul
can't fake teaching these pupils
about things you haven't seen with those pupils
if you go to a shrink with no wounds they'll
learn more from each episode than you will
i feel justified when i'm preachy
because i know what its like to be deep
in a rut, i can help you up out of the muck
because i was once stuck down in the stuff
bills piling up, feeling down on my luck
falling down and thinking bout not getting up
fuck that, we're not giving up
were giving it all we got and then some
at the bag hitting hard as the kick drum
and i'm not letting off til my fists numb
and drips blood, flipping it from
blue to crimson, i'm spitting redrum
still on a mission to win consistent
til competition is nonexistent
knocking them out quick as Sonny Liston
lickedy split, no split decision
i'm back and attacking foes with a vengeance
throwing viscious blows with no repentance
i don't hold grudges but won't forget shit
and won't pull punches for those on my shit list
my shit list reads something like this
ignorance, jealousy, self-righteousness
racism, apathy, senseless violence
anything that breeds hostile environments
even though hostile environments
breed the growth chock-full of vitamins
i think the globe has enough incredible art
i wouldn't want to be the next Mozart
i want to have some fun before i depart
and spread love before this heart gets torn apart
you don't have to go way hard to take part
and there's no such thing as a late start
every beginning is right on time
unless you hit the gas at a red stoplight
now listen to the rattle of my Rat Rod bike
Track Name: Round Ten
i never knew kung fu but i do
know a few ways to kick ass, one two, one two
that was the first two lines of the first tune
of the first tape that i published through
bandcamp back in 2 0 1 2
when i drove on to this road to you
this bumpy road, its dusty tracks'
drum beats showed this unbeaten path
it started in the darkest part of this forest
i called for reinforcements at SP Forums
and they brought vibes that shined like spotlights
i started to run the second i got sight
and after a while i started to fly
so fast i bent time like Marty McFly
i went from hardly alright to hard to deny
in what seemed like a blink of an eye
from sinking in the sea to asending in the sky
i evolved a million years in one night
there's nothing like when the drums and rhymes combine
something like helixes when they intertwine
making my neck move like a coil
it might make me spasmic as a McPoyle
or maybe dramatic as Mickey Goldmill
i might crush and combust like a coal mill
i might just chill and let the cup spill
cold and utter silk like buttermilk
i stay up until the sun starts the drill
finish my route and upspark the L
actually thats a oney at least until
i catch up with these dastardly bills
actually the oney is more like twoey
or like a fourey if the bowl's kinda chewy
back to beats, i'm thankful for mine truly
i found a gold mine full of diamonds and rubies
gems drop in the name of Hip Hop
the name of B Real the name of Sen Dog
the name of Rakim the name of Biz Mark
the name of all them that made the kid spark
my favorite philosopher is not Descartes
its KRS, Hip Hop's the art
South Bronx is where it had its start
at least in the modern since, it has been part
of humanity since the birth of language
i think before we spoke we channeled it
as we chanted, enchanted
by the same magic that this fam flips
propers to Bob for this canvas
i'm chill as Bob Ross as i handle this
manifesting these magnificent trees
as they become clouds transformed with ease
into the breeze
clouds of sound that may bring storms
that may bring forms of life above worms
to where the bees swarm, its where to be for sure
up where the geese soar
up where we can see more
i'd say the beat propels the chopper
the way the breeze controls the condor
i came to bleed my heart out on the floor
patiently because i've got a lot in store
these rhymes came to me in a dream
P Funk was playing a free show down the street
wait a sec, this its reality
i'll be right back, i'm about to leave
then i got back and thank god i left
i caught the best show in the whole midwest
the godfather blessed the Free State Fest
if life is a class he aced the test
but i'm not trying to follow in his footsteps
i've got my own path and i'm on my own quest
i make my own plans, i clean my own mess
i live my own life, i do my own best
do i do my own thing? oh yes
i'm a soloist even when i do a duet
i'm'a grow with the long and winding tracklist
because i approach each song like its practice
Track Name: Round Eleven
boom, the stress drops like a rock
when its time to rock, i follow my head nod
to mountain tops, so far out the box
i'm down with hawks, i fly around with flocks
thats how it feels when i bike around the blocks
spacing out my thoughts and thinking bout a plot
hypnotized to train twice as hard
like Iron Mike, trying to strike while the iron's hot
and right now its glowing bright red and smoking
like my whole life just led to this moment
just knowing your doing your best is so important
i cant overstress the notion
i don't forget the coming but focus on the going
and only own clothes that wont restrict the motion
i'm moving forward, slow but sure
too grown to squander this boat and oar
i row and row and row some more
floating toward an island to go ashore
rest for a night or two and no more
build a fire and recite some new folklore
the cycle goes trial, screw it up, learn
and try again until a solution is earned
they tell me take it easy and i wanna start laughing
i just say "for sheezy" with subtle sarcasm
even at the beach its hard to lounge
with all these starving sharks around
these grizzly bars are designed to ground
like fifty sharp teeth chomping down
art reflects life which eats itself
these beats are like frozen beef to belt
with ravenous blows that crack the rib bones
blasting with both fists packed with gemstones
an animated savage like the Flinstones
the type of brute to spike the ball at the endzone
my river runs deep, my fire burns hot
thats how i like it whether you like it or not
its how i like it because i learned to like it that way
trying to make the good outweigh the bad days
trying to balance play with bill paying in a way
that lets them connect until they're one and the same
toiling in the snow, the sun and the rain
is killing me slow like every way of numbing the pain
so the more i feel now, the less i will later
unless i fall down next to an alligator
or something, you're rocking with Chopper and the Chief
like Ahmir and Tariq, 100 percent dundee
and now here's a short story that starts
with a big drawing of The Roots emcee, Black Thought
a guy saw it hanging downtown at 5 Bar
he called up and asked if i'd bring it by for him
i complied excited and headed right over
and was greeted by a dog meaner than me when i'm sober
he was a barker, he was a growler
he was a boxer, a breed bred for power
he was being pulled upstairs by the collar
he broke free and appoached me like a monster
and the only thing between me and the beast
was my art, framed, my Black Thought piece
and if thats not peace i don't know what is
how could i stay angry in a place like this
Track Name: Round Twelve
two hundred and twenty LBs
two plums and a cunning LP
i thought this was me versus the beats but no
this fight is against the ego
its so full of shit its unbelievable
so i'm done believing it, now i treat it like a show
i see it and i laugh and say you old fool
you don't control what this dude'll do
your like some poodle poo so toodeloo
i flew the coop, eat a cockadoodledoo
i know i can't sever it completely
but i know that i can let it sit beneath me
i hold in my hand a skeleton key
that opens the entrance of the heavens i see
only i can manifest my dreams
and surely i cant unless i'm trying
i keep my eyes on the prize
even when i'm looking stoned as Sly
my third lid is open wide
i'm hurdling the ocean tide
the scenes of creeks seem weak
when you've seen the sea and breathed its breeze
where the air smells like it heals our cells
and relieves our souls of evil spells
cast by the mind where the ego dwells
sometimes our main enemy is ourself
self love is an elf, self hate is a bear
to self create, take care and stay aware
now bare with me as a share this list
that works as my daily therapist
1, exercise to perspiration
2, express through creation
3, organize to satisfaction
4, expand through education
ok, i'm done preaching today i swear
i know it sounds dumb when i'm shaped like a pear
but i lost 10 pounds in the last 2 weeks
at the peak of the hump and about to leap
cut back on the booze, caught up with the bills
and gave my last due fuck about the past due fees
quit the fast food and flipped the atrophy
lifting mad weight until i can't repeat
and practically crawling on hands and knees
to the sack to instantly fall fast asleep
only to battle apnea
that might steer to a nightmare that'll snap me up
but i can't complain, i am complete
long as i have a pen and a beat
and i love my SP but its not a need
still i wouldn't be the same without my machine
i thought i was Balboa but its not me
its all of us underdogs, you see
so the title of this LP
means whatever you want it to mean
stand proud, underdog, is what it means to me
stand proud like that Kansas City team
at the World Series of 2015
word to my brother, that was one of his dreams
now that this SP World series seems complete
on the one, lets let that final round bell ring!