[Intro] [Verse 1] Oh yes I'm new and improved, and to a funky-ass groove My name is Quik and I'm smooth, and I'm makin' yo' ugly bitch move With the streets you can't lose, but if you still wanna choose To be a sucka, I got a 380 punk, so duck her And to you motherfuckers thinkin' you wanna fade me? I'm runnin' the underground, so fool, you're crazy And you better step, 'fore I beat you with a switch And tie you up, and make you watch, while I'm fuckin' yo' bitch Cause I'm a low-pro nigga that you should not fol-low Puttin' suckaz in the wind cause my voice is hol-low Put the pistol to your grill and your punk ass rolls You grab my shit and I pull the trigger now you're missin' a nose And umm, I don't fear your crew because my back is got Chasin' nothin' but the suckas when we hit yo' spot Yeah, straight Bronx killa, mark ass niggas can't check me But gotta respect me, cause I'm Way 2 Fonky
[Verse 2] Now no sooner than I hit the fuckin' streets People be approachin' me, all throughout the swap meets Askin' me shit like, "When your new album comin' out?" "Is it different?" "Is it dope?" "Where yo' perm?" What you talkin' bout? I know you don't expect that a nigga gon' quit Bein' nothin' less than funky and bangin' out the dope-ass hits Cause DJ Quik is a name that I take much much pride in No egoes to hide in and no limos to ride in Maybe a Cutlass or two, but still the same ol' shit And me unclever? No never, I'll have this talent forever The producer get funky down to the last ounce And I'm creative too - so I don't need "Mo' Bounce" But to you suckas in my city claimin' I got a "Def Wish" You should try again fool, you ain't hittin' near this Them wack ass tracks, make you sound like a monkey Just a shot in the dark, from a punk-ass mark who ain't Fonky
[Hook]
[Verse 3] Now when you records ain't that funky then it's easy to disrespect this Cause you know that when I hit I didn't miss Just like that "I'm Born and Raised," you wish you could fade And when you picked up that album cover you knew I was paid, Tim Cause we ain't goin' out and we ain't stuck in that old school shit That boring flavour that just don't hit Cause this is ninety-two, and yes yo' style is through And if your record ain't sellin' well fool I thought you knew That this is straight Bronx killa, straight Bronx murda Yeah yo' city's a dump, and fool yo' shit don't bump And 'member the "Jack the Rapper"? Yeah, your punk ass sat That's when my homeboy D, was bout to flatten yo' cap And you apologized to him, started kissin' his ass Sayin' you only dissed Compton for the money, so he gave you a pass But you ain't movin' shit on the streets Get off the nuts of my city with them wack ass beats that ain't FonkyTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
