Lyrics:
wind
Hopped out, what you want, big verb in the gin
I'm a fish; you can tell by the flippers or fins
C'mon
[Takbir]
Yo- I got a rock style
Pivot
and let me get you high
See you looking for a reason to be mad, but I don't know why
Keep it real you been salty all day and you can't even lie
'Cause
Serve a couple tables and I'm off on my Bianchi
I'm outie kemosabe weaving all these zombies by me
Money, money, money all they ever fucking say
I
Moi aussi, je peux per-ta des samples de Funk
Quand le Fennek est dans le club entre deux seuf's
Non! Je ne veux pas de variété, bande de gueushs
Barry, bodies bloody like Mary
Too scary to even look at when that ass gets buried
Gettin' carried away put to death by the vet
I'm a rider,
plottin
Be ready for the drama
And recognize when you slip you slide till you die
By homicide, when they got the element of surprise
Open your eyes
the dirt, puttin in work for the scrilla
We mofioso, fuck the po-po, federali's and task
Got fifth cap, when i ride around and the funk down we blast
Skid
tappin my hand on my chest.
My walkman stands by ready to press play,
Sure I listen to the old and to the new stuff today.
Just lay back and be calm
wasted
I tasted success and I'm already drunk
J. Paul Getty funk, stinkin like a skunk
Anansie, but I'm not a bald pansy
my mind is in a frenzy and my
a hurry, I never stop to worry
Don't you see the time flashin' by
Honey, got no money
I'm all sixes and sevens and nines
Say now baby, I'm the rank outsider
Five percent president with my other girl
Weavin' through traffic, can't be spotted by my other girl
She gon' go crazy, the love turn into hatin'
And then the sun let up and it split the night
Spilling over our jubilee
Ten thousand cars by the side of the road
Grooving far as the eye can see
Said take
[Music & Lyrics by S. Guadagnoli]
Stand what you stand for,
I know you'll cross the line
More give some more to life
And keep it rising high
Hold
leg broken
Home, choken by roast a deli slogans
To once, quick to get guns I blow ya open
I'm from the L's of the Murderville
Where we possess
of funk
You get get crushed like you gave big pun the top bunk
So shut the fuck up, Funkoars pound the stage until the floor breaks
So get the fuck
that!
And if you don't believe me you gotta see me blowin'
Yar soul with my rock & roll and let by side yar' brain
It's time to play tha' game and it
"Rolling down the road, going nowhere,
Guitar packed in a trunk
Somewhere around mile marker 1-12,
Papa started hummin' the funk
I gotta jones in
"Rolling down the road, going nowhere,
Guitar packed in a trunk
Somewhere around mile marker 1-12,
Papa started hummin' the funk
I gotta jones in
talk(you dirty dirty)
Say what?(you dirty dirty)say what?(you dirty dirty)
verse 1
Now I'm a dirty old south boy
And you can tell by the way I spit it out
And run around town like Bonny&Clide
You see the move you're makin' the rhymes you're takin'
Will lead the heart breaking and I'm not mistaking
You
But wait, there's seems to be some funk on the scene
I got visions, extra periphreal, the see-1's all off and tell 'em
"Time waits for no man!"
You
spát, já vstanu, totiž chodim sem
A, B, C, 1, 2, 3 tak jdem, jdem, jdem
Pochop, že seš u mě doma, tak važ slova
Než postavíš rap znova, tak se drží huba
a punk
Lately i been in a funk, had to dissapear from life
What would happen if i blew my brains out with a rifle
These are real thoughts not
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