Lyrics:
Funk boys
Trying to run around live me getting your fans up
Ask them to send you gifts so your broadcast goes higher-up
Higher up on the feature board
over you
Live from a crater it was a booth
Woah, coming live from the dark side
Drive bys we don't park rides
Cut ties where a snake lies
If you be
top back in the new westsell
5509 girl I live real well
Got the michellin s rims what up sprewell
Swaggerlicious baby something like a pimp
Ha, you know
Reasons to be cheerful, one, two, three
It's a Saturday night
Reasons to be cheerful, one, two, three
Uh uh, it's a Saturday night
Full crew
bling off of ya chest
Live and direct Mista Walk in the flesh
Brought to you by the dude that always comes with the best
Obsessed that I'm fresh bouncin'
hop, party in your stilettos or flip flops
You can't stop, entranced by the DJ, strictly observation crew, that's how we play
When the suits come off,
wants to drop some information
Just a little additive to your education
I live my life by the code of the funk
600 watt amps, 18's in the trunk
When
wants to drop some information
Just a little additive to your education
I live my life by the code of the funk
600 watt amps, 18's in the trunk
When
run by the hat shop, silently run by the weightlifting champion of 1958, silently run by the scientists, silently run by the wealth fund, silently run
no doubt, word
We gets liver than any eighty fiver
And the funk pots thicker out here in our Brooklyn
Every crews badder, we choose to rack fatter
what chu niggas say " I bring the funk where you stay"
You can't handle this scandalous nigga raised by the streets
live and die by the heat and all i
Some of that uh, LTD Lincoln Town Car
Some of that El Dorado funk, know what I'm talking about
Gangsta Shit, you know, lay back, cool out, yeah
gunsmoke in Tokyo
MC's dosey do your mics up in this rodeo
My star roast em up by the thousands, millions, quadrillions
Shuttin down national state buildings
Brownzy doesn't muck around
Left foot, right foot, not a two-way street
Walks on my own two feet
It's VC to VZ's, VB's by the long neck
What goes around
with my crew
You knows this much and this much is true
I watches Weakest Link on BBC2
I chills with the birds from the council estates
I goes down there
me, but we were pen pals for years
I think he was put off by my owning guns
But it's a difficult area that my family lives in
We got death threats
place to hide in this world
Change will change the term hurt
First in line to decline held by a set to burn
Red alert, nines at work, less lives
Tina
What's love got to do
When I'm rippin' all through your whole crew
Strapped like bamboo, but I don't sling guns
I got bags of funk, and it's sellin'
slip (yeah)
'Cause mad nigga's throats gettin' slit
By the mister wit the heat ta burn ya til ya blister
You punk bitch, when the funk hit, the tongue
of my sweatshirt
Bone 2 the bone 2 the bad 2 the bad 2 the bone
Hit bound from the Mo-town allen
Fuck a 40 I drink it by the gallon
I started out
Damon did
Doc, walk thin red lines to shell shock
Hair lock with fucking broads in nail shops
Hydro? got more bags than bellhops
Two thousand Benz
the mainstream?
Meek Mill leans forward into the
Glow of his computer screen
His expression unreadable behind a
Pair of gold sunglasses
It's April, well after two
be the crew that you wanna step to
Sisters with an attitude, now how my mic sounds?
My mic sound nice, check one check two
Everybody make way, party
made by the CL Smooth
Live 495 I arrive in person
Hard dialogue without a whole bunch of cursing
It's my perrogitive, so back up and live, fool
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