Lyrics:
the bed I got it goin' on
I'm Sir Too $hort, couldn't be no punk
I try to get funky like female funk
So when you see me comin' or see me goin'
I keep my
welcome to the machine
the digital smoke screen
made of numbers and symbols
hypnotizing your little stream
those are ripples of cause and effect
a limosuine everywhere you go and fly private planes
that's what I was taught to do
by my big homie thou
you can always be a nigga,
but a nigga ain't rich
shit gutter like Pennywise
Shoutout Big Brother, got many eyes
I'm like Malcolm peekin' through the mini-blinds
Fuckin' with Logic, that's the reason
on my wave like a cruise
Aye
Winning no way I can lose
Aye
I got the haters confused
Aye
Yeah I'm a wave I'm a mood
Aye
Big Mood
Big Mood
Big Mood
Big
the show
We'll have that one bitch from Letters to Cleo
(Granny!) That's it for now, I'm out this bitch
Ay yo Gangsta Funk, show em how you got rich!
[Intro: MIMS]
R.I.P.!!!! B.I.G.!!!!!! LET'S GO!!!!!
[Chorus: Notorious B.I.G. Sample (MIMS)]
For the bread n butta I leave niggas in the gutta
artists everywhere)
a just machine to make big decisions
programmed by fellows with compassion and vision
we'll be clean when their work is done
we'll be
Let me give you some history
All us brothers we got the funk
That’s passed down from tree to tree
We are all one big family
That comes straight from
favorite drug
You can't get enough
A passion that's everlastin
I get lit and do work like Rob & Big
This notorious paint glorious
Kush euphoria
hurt me
Bought my bitch the Chanel jacket with the big Chanel bag (she got the big bag, nigga)
Sneak the hammer in the club, the realest bitch I ever
Big machines
Keep on pumping
While all the little ones think about jumping
Lightning
Don't strike twice
Conductor keeps riding while dreaming of his
Today we're gonna do something scary
We're venturing into the mind of young black males
Let's take a peak...
[ Young Lay ]
Cuddies perved by
and the tank with gasoline
Got your head hotwired,
Got your head hotwired, hands praise the machine!
Seize the day by the throat and put rubber to the road
Not
Machine, "Hello."
Rick Rock, "Rick Rock."
Machine, "Has a message for:"
Rick Rock, The Bay Area
Machine, "To accept the message press 1"
Ugh,
the Brady Bunch
Got cheese in Lee's like he's in jeans
Charge Visa freeze, on these with ease
No dope to cope, just good to go
There's hope to Pope, big
dome piece, plus I got no love for the beast
Hailing from the big East Coast, where niggas pack toast
Home of the drug kingpins and cut throats
Hey
whippin' a new machine
I got the Percocets, I got the Wock', and I got me a cool nurse thing
She went to whippin' it
Had to tell her, "Lil baby, I'm proud
just jazze on the beat again
Tappin on machines again its cracking threw your speakers in
That's what it sounds like when I'm in the South right
Put
what
Boom shocker lock
I live for the funk notorious I'll die for the funk
Nigga who nigga what
Niggas hating cause I do what I want
I'm nine nine nigga
(woo)
CL and double X.L ring a bell
Supplied by the inside, never been a shell
Rowdy, but thoughts got cloudy, you choked
In a puff of smoke, mics
I come wit' it, big digits
Got 'em livid, when I quick flip it
They don't wanna dig it but the spirit is not authentic
Not a pity party, but I'm
of the compton funk
Hoo-bangin' with a pistol grip pump
Buckin' shots in your body boy, buck
For poppin' that lip service, now your lookin' nervous, uh
Muthafuckas
Verse 1 Vic Spencer
Sheeesh yea i live for the funk
Make you sit in the trunk
While i smoke what i want uuuugh
I know why i see stars and i see
Discuss these machine got funk by the notorious big Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In