yo, yo, yo, yo, yo Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, it yo You say a one for the trouble two for the Come on y'all rock that uh (I can the funk, I can feel the funk) (I can the funk, I can feel the funk) it
I come to grips mics I come to grips that a lot of mic users is I come to grips with the likes of Fred so I'm lampin' with no need for spotlight
When I got like an intersection, you talk But you came to my with protection year, had the block hot I scream, "Fuck the world", for a baby girl sorta cock block
I write rhymes like I come from the windy With my crew, I click like simply, stand midi with Casually, I walk these war games Some claim say but they take on whore names If that's the way your sex drives, stay in lane If you're a man, I can't tell like if the door now
Now, to the in the house when you come in the place It ain't a bunch of all up in your face The music is thumpin' and feelin' the bass What you wanna do (Wanna shout)
To the brothas you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of niggaz It ain't high tech and ain't got liquor You his name and stick to make you jones get thicker What you wanna do Yo, check it (Let go)
niggaz be on the mic, sounding like dikes Allow me to get on and bust like (Uh) Lee, I'm in the majors no rotation Through stations of bullshit, I see through like a
In the age of Aquarius, things Is gonna carry us in and what have you astrologist's interpret point stars and half moons Then end up on or walls in bathrooms
Every black moon, a rap move me The rap sun, I rain more than Rudy, that shit is played It don't stop, time to get it, get it made I got my made up like Foxy Brown's face
I know how the tastes I want a crib from the ground up, rooms spin at a round Get down based on story, through Corey Came close to the
Colder as the Iceman, before it start wrinklin' Linkin' cats, who don't react to change in the years prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now
Now, to the ladies in the when you come in the place It a bunch of niggaz all up in your face The music is thumpin' and feelin' the bass What you do girl (Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a of niggaz It ain't high tech and got free liquor You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get What you wanna do man? Yo, it (Let go)
I can feel the funk, I can feel the I can feel the funk, I can the funk I can the funk, I can feel the funk I can feel the funk, I can the funk Yo, it, check it
I came through the corridor, the aura Raw Chicago Mora, the horror Read between the and know the border Some pop wines for juice, I wait in the
Waitin' for you Big niggaz to have a show at the crib We gonna get with your glamor, long as we know it is Tell you ain't a player by your sweater doused with wack The Crib got the gangsta playa shit patent black leather
I rap better than you, you or him But I am a tree and every lyric is a timb Spilled brews and foods got my car smelly Some be so high, believe they fly like R. Kelly But they fall off, dusted niggaz is gettin' sawed off They fall soft, my lift is for me to haul off, I kick ass
Now, to the ladies in the when you come in the place It a bunch of niggaz all up in your face The music is and you're feelin' the bass What you wanna do (Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you in a jam, it ain't a bunch of niggaz It ain't high tech and ain't got liquor You his name and stick to make you jones get thicker What you wanna do Yo, check it (Let go)
I can feel the funk, I can the funk I can the funk, I can feel the funk I can the funk, I can feel the funk I can feel the funk, I can feel the
I can feel the funk, I can the funk I can the funk, I can feel the funk I can the funk, I can feel the funk I can the funk, I can feel the funk
me wanna shout, wanna shout Makes me shout, wanna shout me wanna shout, wanna shout Makes me wanna shout, shout Wanna