Lyrics:
got the monkeys, let's see the monkeys)
And to view them he charges no fee
(He's generous, so generous)
He's got slaves
He's got servants and flunkies
secrets out to flunkies and castrato walkers
See that girl
Watch that scene
Digging the "Dancing Queen"
Two newspaper editors like playground sneaks
win a grammy
Unless we sellout and kill the black movement dead
Which means swallow our pride and become flunkies instead
And stop the rap about
about a girl who meets a junkie
The messenger gets shot down just for carrying the messages to a flunky
We can't be certain who the villains are
his name, but he can throw fan
Flunkies die tryna be gang, I call it smokin'
Search for opps on every block, niggas ain't drop no pen
Young shiner,
to play me for cream puff
Forgot I was big stuff, rough tough, and all that stuff, huh?
You jabber jaw junkie, rap tour flunky
Quick at the lip, but when
PUNKIN FLUNKIES,
Killa we KRUNK N FUNKY,
Uhh... PUMPING CHUNKY,
Uhh... BOOTY BITCHES IN THE BUNK WITH A DONKEY EH!
Crazy, I might be way in my psyche
That's a pointless game
I've got a minder
A chauffeur, a flunky
'Cause I'm the organ-grinder
Not the monkey
Call me old-fashioned
At least I know
the shoes
It ain't the shoes, i swear it's me
(Who's that?) The H to the E to
The A or Y dash- D i slam a dunk a bunk
I make a flunky feel the funk
I don't
what's goin' on
Yeah these pussy niggas mad, that I won't play along
All that boss talk, low-key you's a flunky though
Like Rico off of Belly, yeah you
PUNKIN FLUNKIES,
Killa we KRUNK N FUNKY,
Uhh... PUMPING CHUNKY,
Uhh... BOOTY BITCHES IN THE BUNK WITH A DONKEY EH!
Crazy, I might be way in my psyche
and flunkies
Mega ain't the only faggot in my hood dummies
There's plenty that want to be me but cannot
It's like King Arthur and knight Sir Lance-a-lot
Lefty
is over
[Nas]
Since we on the subject of traders and flunkies
Mega aint the only faggot in my hood dummies
Theres plenty that wanna be me but
sellout and kill the black movement dead
Which means swallow our pride and become flunkies instead
And stop the rap about freedom, thoughts of a black
a junkie
The messenger gets shot down
Just for carryin' the message to a flunkies
We can't be certain who the villains are
'cause everyone's so pretty
about a girl who meets a junkie
The messenger gets shot down just for carrying the messages to a flunky
We can't be certain who the villains are
These flunkies tellin' everything, but really, they don't know shit
Gossipin' and assumin' 'bout a nigga, boy, that's ho shit
Can't hear you, nigga,
Gretta's flunky, some boot-licking lackey, some wild-eyed Romeo
Winds op the mountain with Rio down below
Drives too slowly past a burning impromptu
the notorious, with rhymes so glorious
The Manchu Monkey over flunkies is victorious
Rappers be boring us with rhymes of conventional
Dazed and amazed when they
on the same block, a flunky had kilt lil' dead homes
Niggas out here reppin' like they steppin', know they dead wrong (niggas know they dead wrong)
I can
man
We were football flunkies, southern rock junkies, crankin' up the stereos
Singing loud and proud to "Gimmie Three Steps," "Simple Man," and "Curtis
the trees
And all the teachers who were flunkies
They all taught you and me
And the white men, I'll be goddamned if they're
Still selling quaaludes
Flunkus to go and murder a flunky
You know you reap what you sow, and that shit cold
Knew the burners was on, I just had to touch the stove (shit)
When
hairdos
I'm from the Boogie man why would I fear you
When you scared to death and your flunkies is scared too
Felt your heart trembling when I came near
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