Lyrics:
Oh yes this is special
This is direct from what we call The Funk House
This is a total dope phat one, knowhatI'msayin?
And this is how it's done,
Get it!
Ha ha, Funk Doc in the building, bitch
Y'all already know the business, nigga, ha ha
Yo, let's get it, yeah, I'm with it
Streets
Oh yes, this is special
This is direct from what we call 'The Funk House'
This is a total dope, phat one, know what I'm sayin'?
And this is how
Men aren't fit to rule
That's when he took his pearly crown
He raised it up and spun it 'round
And tossed into the deep blue underground
No
featuring Mac Pheno
Chorus: Master P (repeat 4X)
No Limit is the army and we the soilders
It's an uptown thing boy I thought I
"Alright now, here we go"
Tell me, how many real motherf***ers feel me? I smoke a blunt
And freak the funk until these jealous motherf***ers
shit, it'd be like drama (yeah)
And you might get tripped on by my baby mama (hey mac)
So do what I tell you and everything'll be alright
You're cute
the brothers act fools
When I turn a party out, all hands is in the air
Some say it's chill, New York throw chairs
The punk funk sound to make a sane man
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
as I can thrust ya
Don't make no sudden moves fool and I won't have to bust ya
Trigga Treach he got his pistol do
We puttin in work from here
as I can thrust ya
Don't make no sudden moves fool and I won't have to bust ya
Trigga Treach he got his pistol do
We puttin in work from here
shoppin', new shoes (well)
I put her in them Christian Loubs (yes, Loubs)
I get it wet, she don't need no lube (no lube)
I'm a gangster, so I tell her
Haha. That RBL niggaz. Mr. see-Note, see-Note
*(Chorus- Iyesha Johnson)*
No one's gonna lace you, like I do
I get around babe, no one can lace you
world I hope you're ready for me.
Now gather 'round
I'm the new fool in town
And my sound's laid down by the Underground.
I drink up all the Hennessey
they can't get near me
Step into the circle and I'll take you on a dream through my Elm street
It's reality that you're facin'
The funk will surround
Verse 1
Hello hello... its that throwed vato... yo b Tactical... i got that 80s funk... im hustla... far from a busta... loc shades... playa made...
to the bass, c'mon
Turn up the radio
They claim that I'm a criminal
By now I wonder how
Some people never know
The enemy could be their friend, guardian
[Afrika]
Zigga-one, zigga-two, zigga-three, zigga-and..
Mindin my business, hangin on the scene
Kangaroos rolled by -- but I was clean
?? got my
strapped wit the rhymes
Diggy Das blow your mind, no doubt, one of a kind
Niggity-no digga, the tiggity-tongue flipper, the funk ripper
The bum
costing
Strictly big bossing to get the fortune
You not ready to test the La faking the funk
Confess or die not physically, but lyrically
Come on, give it
Nigga I will dump
I got my thang off in the trunk
I ain't lookin for no funk
Tryna find some hoes to fuck
Man, I want my johnson sucked
Bakarii's puffin
An MC with bad habit's I am, I see
A mic and I grab it, so scary, ain't it?
I'm comin' raw with no corrections
Savin' all perfections for what I
Do with
it
By the smell on the skunk
It's the funk we blow it
So split the mud and reach for the sack
Ease up your mind never look back
Inhale deeply
a chicken wing
I eat em one by one, good clean fun
No need to bring a gun, come and get some
Of this lovable, hugable, my skills are so incredible
Stay
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