[Verse 1] I get mad wicked (fuck around) and catch a bad one by the funker I puff the mad spliffs and roll blunts with Archie Bunker 'Cause my brain is twisted, so I cock the biscuit 'Cause shit's thick, some say I'mma bastard of a swift bitch Negro, funkin' it with the style in your ear, bro To make you fear me like Cape without Robert DeNiro You big pussy, so funky that you have to douche me You can't hear me then my record label didn't push me I know I'm sayin' 'funk' too many times in my rhymes But if I wasn't that, I wouldn't freak it in the line But it don't seems to matter 'cause my shit get fatter and fatter I'll do the funk in your face and it slaps ya How does it feel with the face full of funk With the bass in your trunk, weed laced with the blunt I puff, I never got snuffed, bust while I dust your monkey Ass off then I just crush on the hush hush So if you want a taste of the funk from the gutter Ask the brothers (Why?) 'Cause I'm bad (Word to mother)
[Hook] I'm a bad... Yo, word to the mother (x3) I'm a bad... Bad bad, and a wicked in bed I'm a bad... Yo, word to the mother (x3) I'm a bad... Bad bad, and a wicked in bed
[Interlude] Yo yo, check this out This is for y'all hokey-pokey punk pussy motherfuckers Just to show y'all I do what the fuck I wanna do I want y'all to check this on the real And yo, check this out Shake it! C'mon shake it! C'mon shake it! C'mon shake it! Whassup now? Whassup now? Whassup now? Whassup now? Whattup now? Hahahahah (Yo Red, c'mon, get back to the track man, I wanna get out of here!) Yo kid chill, a'ight, a'ight, check it out
[Verse 2] Flexy I'm sexy when I'm standin' in my drawers If you can't check me when I'm rappin', put the tape on pause And listen to the incredible shit that I kick my man Give me five on the backhand then stick Your finger in a hole and chop the stick quick 'Cause my lip get to the point, to STILL rock the fly shit Since you're holding your breath, I hold my jewels I swing hardcore, so I walk, holdin' my tools The original P-Funk, takes no junk, from a chump, or punk, G I been this way every since nine months So get down while I rip the raps from my lip 'cause My shit's more deep, than any tape from Enigma The gettin' nice, thinkin' killer brother who pop trash Basic instinct — I'm a shooter so they got blasted Much ass I kick, groove to the master mix My song still pumps when it's not even mastered, bitch! My shit's very chronic so rewind it 'Cause it's like.. eh-eh-eh-eh beyond, bionic! 'Cause I'm a wild and crazy guy! No lie! Last brother to battle me I started pissin' in his eye I'm bad, word to mother, to the motherfuckin' Hubbard Eatin' her curds and whey, puffin spliffs 'cause she doesn't And if you still don't under-fuckin-stand where I'm comin' from Listen to my nine, understand where it's hummin' from!
[Hook] I'm a bad... Yo, word to the mother (x3) I'm a bad... Bad bad, and a wicked in bed I'm a bad... Yo, word to the mother (x3) I'm a bad... Bad bad, and a wicked in bedTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
