Lyrics:
the funk in grand
Here comes my man
My brother, grap lover, get wreck cousin, c’mon
Call me the grap lover, yes, the younger soul brother
Keep your
Soon to be in your museum
When I'm in your colisseum
I'm MCin'
Punishin' wack niggas for disagreein'
Did you see him?
No, 'cause he move like
fade was a Caesar
you try to diss I'ma get destuctive
walk in with a bubble man I'm gonna bust it
one by one wack dancers I'm callin' off
yo Play see
anesthetic
Now I know that it's stone cold funk,I can tell
'Cause it's written all over by the way you smell
That funk the aroma,that smell,that scent
You'll
check it out, y'all (uh, uh)
Check it out, check it out (uh)
Check it out y'all, check it out y'all
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
Funk Flex, DMX (uh, uh)
It's
get the money never stop)
I learned that from my ogs
(I learned that from my ogs)
U could never fake the funk
(U can never fake the funk)
On my soul I'm
know _What's Going On_
without Marvin Gaye around, c'mon let's get down
I spark your brain with all funk material
And gettin wicked, and let Wilson
open for that exorcism strictly by the prime numbers
To redesign your Small Wonder
Pisces one Scorpio alert of destruct
Constellation funk
when you so thin tight
jean got that cameo on show thin g string make a nigga
go in came all by yourself
brought no friends well what you never tell for
in ya track
Well
Gunshot for the young yacht owner
See there's everybody else then there's one top loner
First place is often the worst place
But
bout that
I’m a dope emcee, so funk with me
I stay on the mic like constantly
The local studio is where you’ll likely find me
Unloading verbal schematics
funk to you
(Yeah, the Brick City dawgs, yeah, holla at your frogs)
Gilla House, is comin' through and Wutchoogonnado
(Uptown Jersey, Brooklyn)
Shh,
makin em take in the smell of my funk I be kickin up in em
And then I'ma give em a lick of my lyrical lollypop, I'm gonna bring em into my doctrine
Rock,
boy, Poppa see to put a slug in your vest
Check, I walk around the street with the black tech nine
By the waistline, kickin' the hype shit
So turn
Well I'm looking at you, from the corner of my eye, I can see it now, you're stepping so high and dry, I'm posted in the club watching ladies, go by
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me
and measure planets by parallax
Check out the retrograde motion, kill the notion
Of biting and recycling and calling it your own creation
I feel like Rockwell,
Do the vanity funk
Do the vanity funk
I wanna be free
From vanity
Cause I can see
What's doing to me
I wanna be free
From vanity
Cause i can see
I can see how you look at me, all the moves that cross your mind
Face to face by an open flame, but the stars are misaligned
Can't we wait till
We're doing a sequel
We're back by popular demand
C'mon on everybody, strike up the band
We're doing a sequel
That's what we do in Hollywood
drove by his house, so who you tryin' to dial
If you're lookin' for an answer, you're probably gonna find it now
And to the man in the hat standing
in ya track
Well
Gunshot for the young yacht owner
See there's everybody else then there's one top loner
First place is often the worst place
But
Here comes a rhyme in your ear
Craig Mack is here, so have no fear
My rhymes push the hack to the rear
I'm severe, rap pioneer, with funk I steer,
Jam it, jam, Teddy.
Hey, ew, oh yeah.
I can make you dance if you want me to.
Let me see you cruisin' on the dance floor, baby.
(Sound so good
Discuss these c on the funk by cameo 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