Redman [Rap]

Yo, yo, yo check this out
Yo, yo we gon go back to the old school right now
Yo, yo Red
Yo, what's up G?
Yo, yo, yo check this out

I believe there's no nigga out there
As funky as you
True so, what we're gonna do
Is we're gonna go back to the old P

Funkadelic get the fuck outta here, word?
Remember that old cut you did? Yeah, yeah
That ol' P funk cut?
Yeah, make my funk the P funk

Yeah, yeah, that's it
Well, what we gonna do is we gonna reminisce on that ol' shit
Word? We gon go right back to the old school, but before we do
I wanna know is my niggaz in the house?

Hell yeah, I said is my motherfuckin' niggaz in the house?
Hell yeah, So everybody just light your spliffs up
Yeah, get your skunk weed and light that shit up
And let the funk be your guiding light

You heard it comin' from the lungs
Of the funkadelic brother himself
More funk than a bag of skunk
Twice the funk that James Brown's socks
Hit me, hittin' you straight across your notch
Wit a tune yo, Redman, drop it

Make my funk, the P funk
I wants to get funked up

Make my funk the P funk, we thump
Lyrics that bounce the brain, make emcees jump
Sky high can't touch the level so why try?
Fall Guy compare me status to fly guy

Rough and rugged and brother it takes ten to conquer
That's why I'm on probation
Ever since three, I cut throats of emcees
Mediocre lyricist who burnt with degrees

Of two-ten not from an oven, but mac ten
A mac twenty maybe if I didn't subtract ten
My background straight from a black mans culture
Want more, buy the video or Redman sculpture

For your mantle, damn you too hard to handle
E Double slam once and Redman slam two
Break hooks, earthquake shook the state of NJ
Okay, bust the big gate

For microphones that have swollen mic cords
PE fights for power, Redman fights for soul power
Funk is strong as a tree trunk
Ask me the flavor make mines the P funk

Make my funk, the P funk
I wants to get funked up
Make my funk, the P funk
I wants to get funked up

I'm back with the funk, chump
You want funk, how many lumps?
I got spunk I'm well known like Donald Trump
I'm not

Yo, yo, yo check this out
Yo, yo we gon go back to the old school right now
Yo, yo Red
Yo, what's up G?
Yo, yo, yo check this out

I believe there's no nigga out there
As funky as you
True so, what we're gonna do
Is we're gonna go back to the old P

Funkadelic get the fuck outta here, word?
Remember that old cut you did? Yeah, yeah
That ol' P funk cut?
Yeah, make my funk the P funk

Yeah, yeah, that's it
Well, what we gonna do is we gonna reminisce on that ol' shit
Word? We gon go right back to the old school, but before we do
I wanna know is my niggaz in the house?

Hell yeah, I said is my motherfuckin' niggaz in the house?
Hell yeah, So everybody just light your spliffs up
Yeah, get your skunk weed and light that shit up
And let the funk be your guiding light

You heard it comin' from the lungs
Of the funkadelic brother himself
More funk than a bag of skunk
Twice the funk that James Brown's socks
Hit me, hittin' you straight across your notch
Wit a tune yo, Redman, drop it

Make my funk, the P funk
I wants to get funked up

Make my funk the P funk, we thump
Lyrics that bounce the brain, make emcees jump
Sky high can't touch the level so why try?
Fall Guy compare me status to fly guy

Rough and rugged and brother it takes ten to conquer
That's why I'm on probation
Ever since three, I cut throats of emcees
Mediocre lyricist who burnt with degrees

Of two-ten not from an oven, but mac ten
A mac twenty maybe if I didn't subtract ten
My background straight from a black mans culture
Want more, buy the video or Redman sculpture

For your mantle, damn you too hard to handle
E Double slam once and Redman slam two
Break hooks, earthquake shook the state of NJ
Okay, bust the big gate

For microphones that have swollen mic cords
PE fights for power, Redman fights for soul power
Funk is strong as a tree trunk
Ask me the flavor make mines the P funk

Make my funk, the P funk
I wants to get funked up
Make my funk, the P funk
I wants to get funked up

I'm back with the funk, chump
You want funk, how many lumps?
I got spunk I'm well known like Donald Trump
I'm not

[Erick Sermon] You know my style, you know my steelo (8X)

Verse One: Erick Sermon

I bring the ruckus for you brothers I jam like Smuckers
Don't udder because my style is buttah
The roughneck, green-eyed, funkdafied
For those girls who cry my style's worldwide (word em up)
I get Just-Ice, whenever I Bust This
Even P.E. Can Trust This
I Hollywood swing my shit to the basement
Leavin niggaz stunned like how OJ's case went (yeah)
The grand imperial, with mad material
Before you jump, into my flow yell GERONIM-OH
My God, I rock toward the right
Then I Set it Off, on the left just for spite
The E Double bring the brofunkadelcreeptic hahahHAHAHA
Ahahahaha
My style's incognito
I'm sharper than a razor blade dressed up in a black tuxedo
Word to Reggie Noble, and the Shaq
Forget Schwarzennegger, I'll be back
You know my steelo

[Erick Sermon] You know my style, you know my steelo (4X)

Verse Two: Redman

Coming straight from the sluggish part, of Newark, some niggaz
Start
My styles act wild like Jurassic Park after dark
Tyranosaurus Rex blows the discotheque
I pose the threat, like an Arabian, blowin up your stadiums
My milky styles flows Canals like Panama
So get your camera, SNAP, swing back like Reggie Jax
Hoooaaa, HAH, nigga look up in the sky
It's a bird, fuck, I took the frame, that's my word
I put the Crypt Keeper in a sleeper, eureka here's the feature

got amnesia that I'm the ultimate funk
Pop the trunk, ALLRIGHTY THEN
My friend, bust the maneveur
How I Ace niggaz like Ventura
My style's water like Evian, that's why you Wonder like
Stevie and how I get wreck with Erick Sermon and
Shaq-Diesel and, I'm comin down with the funk
Punks, that's how we go, you know my style
You know my steelo

[Erick Sermon] You know my style, you know my steelo (4X)

Verse Three: Shaquille O'Neal

Tall TWISM, afro-centric Asian, half-man half-amazin
My skill be blazin, six million ways in to die
Grab this mic like Pryor
Burn baby burn baby burn, like Andre Rison house on fire
Follow me forth, follow me back
Shaq's Illegal, watch me Get Busy on this track
Yo I Gets Busy, packs more Speed than K. Reeves
You best believe, my loot's stacked up like a RuPaul weave
Punks jump up to get plastered
Respect to Wu-Tang and that OL DIRTY BASTARD
A lot of hoopers, tryin to play ball
TIM-BER!! They're all gonna fall 'cause
The world is mine, all mine
Quick to treat between the line even Ray Charles ain't that
Blind
Pass me a Pepsi, forget that freakish Snapple
MC talkin head then I will smash him with the alley apple
Erick Sermon, Redman, Shaq
Three macks, you look for somethin wack you get smacked
Boom-pow-ping, da-ping-pat
Shaq, is back in effect, so how's that

[Erick Sermon] You know my style, you know my steelo (8X)

[Redman]
Aiyyo dot dot dot who is it the prime wizard
Erykah Badu izm smoker vocal chord woof choker
Now who block is this? (Yo yo yo no no chill chill
nah nah hold up homie) We takin over!
Gimme your girl gimme your keys to your four do' Explorer
Yo Lu Nile crack their composure
(We decompose your crowd) We layin down tighter than plaques
When I blast I wild like them two bitches from Baps

[Luniz]
Yo, the Hong Kong Fooey, human tornado like Rudy
Turning your bomb-ba-zee into doobies
Platinum overseas like the Fugees, Japanese
Germany groupies, mooshi mooshi, sniffin lines
off each other's booty love the Luniz
I went from smokin dubs to QP's
Make hits for thugs that bankin hoopies
and aimin uzis, at who dirty mackin my loochie
Come clost cock the toast and make you see Ghost-s like Whoopi

Have you ever seen a nigga get snatched up by his drawers
And wonder the cause, 'cause big dope had his balls
Got small methamphetimes with colors to be Cray-ola
Took the drunkest O-A, and let the X take shit over
No need to get juiced cause it's the anti-depressant
Smile now but trip later, and put your hand out for the present
Lay down for fifteen, so your body can feel rest
Kick your feet up, and start makin beats on your chest and think

Chorus: Redman and Luniz

Sex, money, drugs, music
Lies, these are the things that keep niggaz...
"I was hyp-no-tized!" "I'd like to break it down down"
"Cold turn the party out" "I'd like to, I'd like to break it down down"
"Cold turn the party out"
(repeat 2X)

[Luniz]
Ahh ahh, I smoke Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Satur-dayyyyyyah!
Two lay ya blunt, players with cream
If I die my spirit will jump inside machines
Runnin niggaz over like Christine (sorry)
I mix the green with the last piece of hashish, ass-burning
hoes in my black mink, your baby momma lovin my backseat
Freak nasty got me slappin the ass cheeks of Blackstreet

So high, I'm so high I feel like I'm wearin a disguise
Superman type of, with Kryptonite eyes
Not knowin I'm trippin, I walks out to my vehic'
Buckle up for safety on my way to get some cheap shit
I'm out the parkin lot, sideways on two wheels


Vision is double, trouble to me is bein real
Listen to my big block bill cause in the town that's a earful
Shares and mo' shares, swang if it's good

[Redman]
Now how I get dollars, I be the rap artist blue collar
School scholars on knowledge to move dollars
I do gotta motion chirp, like Impalas
for niggaz who rock Timbs, Gortex, or new Walla's
You're facin, the Cochise of operation
And if you ain't tastin you should steady observations
Doctor/patient, leavin mics with laceratons
Love to stay bent with my doggs rollin adjacent (woof!)
And when they bark they turn your sunny days to dark
You play the back like Rosa Parks when the arc sparks
I bang rawly, do you orally
My horny sounds will pound more heavy than E-40

Chorus 1/2

[Redman]
I'm gettin money y'all, I'm gettin money nigga
Bend your back like Long Isle Iced Teas with five liquors
Knew about the cheddar since I took my child picture
sDial 900-Do-Away-With-All-Snitches
Stop complaining, the game is for entertainment
What is it when niggaz heads gettin covered with blankets?
It's just a one-eight-seven on your motherf**kin crew
I'll have your brains doin donuts like you in a rental
Flip fools with credentials, nasty like havin sex with kinfolk
Blaze high, then smoke

[Luniz]
Drunk-a-Lot, stays on top, that's why we roll
two and two, four deep makes a crew
Red Yuk and Num with the sidekick Hennesey
Fuzzy, wuzza, fuzzy, little friend of me
Hitters on the payroll, secure because we practice
Pure ass-kick cures for who's acting drastic
Drank and buddha blast, callin shots on Motorolas
One step shy, so I'ma drank until it's over

Kick this for the fake Versace wearin fake Donna Karan Mossino
Players we know, ain't no gambino
Peons be watchin too much Casino, wannabe Nino Brown with the uzi
But clown you more like Downtown Judy
Niggaz can't fool me, I love the way you ball outta control
in your rhyme, then see you in person without a dime
But I'm global, with Reggie Noble man blazin
Dive in a crowd like Method Man and Van Halen

Chorus (repeat to fade)

Yo! Amazing grace how sweet the sound is of the fo' pound
To blast all these sound men that got the po' sound
Yippie-yi-yay, motherfuckers here's the show down
But since we're broke now with dope sounds now here we go now
Check the motion while I be puffin the pot-enent
Blow spots and urban networks with other experts
Plus this thing between my ear thinks clear
And the only thing it fears is the man upstairs
So fuck your bulletproof gear
If I decide to get your ass you better believe it's more than a blast
(boo-ya) More like rough paragraphs out Alcatraz
And ash, your staff, let the grime our your ass
Everybody's hustling with sons toting guns
When Reggie Noble's sprung we stick nuns that got funds
Bomb niggaz like they did in Oklahoma
Freez, you're froze, Def Squad UHH, case closed

[Crossbreed]
I be the, sneaky, second dimension, creepin through your sector
Have nectar, leaking out you wack rhyme stressers
Extra deez disease leave rashes on rappers
Makin MC's so feel the breeze of the Grandmaster
Packed with swift solid style structure
Simonizing MC's with the degree of street ruckus
Aiyyo who got guns? I split precise, spleen splitter
Return my physical presence to the borough of the hard hitters
I devour, night sun shower, menace last hour, weak man's last power
Body, the six four mind shotty
The one you handle, second dimension mind vandal
Laceratin your retina for tryin to see this
As I'm flowin through the prism of the X-3-D
See at forty belows I freak flows that burn your nose
When you inhale the verbal blows, case closed

Chorus: Redman, Crossbreed

Aiyyo, why the fuck you tryin to get funky on me nigga?
Aiyyo, why the fuck you tryin to get funky on me nigga?
Yo, don't you know, who I am motherfucker?
[Redman's the name fool]
That's my nigga!
Why the fuck you tryin to get funky on me nigga?
Aiyyo, why the fuck you tryin to get funky on me nigga?
Yo, don't you know, who they are motherfucker?
[Crossbreed's the crew fool]
They're my niggaz!

Verse Three: da otha Crossbreed MC

Things ain't easy, cuz we be, strugglin day to day
A bunch of stressed black men with not really much to say
Twistin up some brown paper that we struggle just to get
With the deaf dumb and blind become mentally equipped
As I extend my pen to wreak havoc on paper
I execute and burn MC's like Absolut with no chaser
Strong as chemical the general with rhymes
Past wreckin mics, I make the earth shatter like the 7th sign
My drama bringer bring about a new order
I'm sending a plague through your town like God to Sodom and Gomorrah
Your deacon, my vocals actions got you speechless
Make gangsta niggaz wanna go home and talk the cheapest
No man alive could bend on we, beatin on rappers literally
X3D beez up on the streets dimensional trilogy
Got no love for foes, no respect for grimy hoes
Nuff said, X-3-D blowin up, case closed

To my no good niggaz and my no good bitches
Sorry if I left somebody leavin out with stitches
Seems y'all too bold for ya britches
Enslaved your mind like cotton pickers for runnin wit some rotten niggaz
I get raw to the core with hardcore metaphors
Resevoir Dog style truly yours
Yes I be the slug up in your chest
Then you wonder why you can't feel the full strength of ciggarettes
My nationality is, brutality
I got the gun up under your leather nigga so walk casually
You'd be surprised how much info you can get
For a bottle of crack to find yo' punk ass and yo' kinfolks
Plus, that crew you run with is butt
I was dusted one day when I made your man choke up
Rappers comin to New Jersey and be gettin fucked up
Talkin about where they from and shit when dem sons ain't runnin shit
and go off a BIT if you do a show in da Bricks
You'd swear you was fly and how we bring so much turbulence
I keep your nervous level high nigga
You better kiss your son and daughter, tell em bye nigga
When we creep

Verse Two:

I give respect to all my woolly niggaz with the Rolex
Shinin briquettes, flashin cash and dumpin Moets
Especially when my royalty check is late, I don't hesitate
I scoop up Keith, and see who's flashin at the Palla-
-dium, hide your weed niggaz cause here I come
Lookin bummy for low profile, so loud MC's overlook me
I slip the bartender some more
Just to tell me [how much cash and Dom P you pour]
Huh, I should start robbin rappers in the industry
If we ain't clickin then I'm engineerin your injuries
Forty-eight tracks of automatics and facts
Lyrically splat-datted till your mentality blacks
And I don't give a FUCK if you did thirty bids
Still I bring Ecstasy like I'm the rapper Jaleel
Blaow blaow blaow, lickin shots for your fuckin
mind, I got you niggaz duckin out like I'm one-time
Or five-oh, po-po, I drive hoes nutty
Like I be doin security at my live shows
Your A&R is a punk, he got you gassed
when I brutally smash any contender in my weight class
Aiyyo Twinz yo this nigga got jewels
(hold that nigga while I rob this fool)
When we creep

Original rude bwoy... on your scene
Haha ha ha ha!
Everybody light your blunts get your smoke on
Hahah
All you bitches drop your drawers... witcha stinkin ass (stinkin ass)
Just roll that weed (roll that weed) just roll that weed (roll that weed)

Verse One:

Aiyyo yes it's me the MC Grand Royal
Spittin that Newcleus I suggest you Jams On It
I'm not a role model I cracks the Beck's bottle
Smoke blunts, play pretty MC's as sex models
So inhale exhale what you smell?
Derail the frail blind MC off my trail
If he use braille, see I never been touched
Regulate the street tactics then parlay in the cut
Uhhahhh, lay back and hit this while I shit this
Flip this, get some ass flow at long distance
And plus I pack nine inches in my britches
And keep an instant lit for the funky ass bitches
Newark, New Jersey's on the map, ?comprende?
And confrontations start from the blunts and the Reme
And if an-y, MC out there wanna test
Call my boy Poppa C to put a slug in your vest

Chorus: [from _Whut? Thee Album_; "Tonight's Tha Night"]

Check, I walk around the street with the black tec nine
By the waistline, kickin the hype shit
So turn the volume up a notch
And watch the ba-bump, ba-bump, make your speakers pop
(repeat 2X)

Verse Two:

Owwww, shit I'm just one hip nigga
Shit is off the hook when my crew is in the mixture
What I deliver, over tracks and rivers
Is making your lungs collapse and quiver, it's the
PPP foundation in your ass
We be the bomb like that Oklahoma blast
Then outlast, a few clowns, sounds
Raps, stay bein the mack like Dru Down
Ask me what I smoke and I say, "It's the method!"
Funk off the hook I leave shit disconnected!
What's the name of that town rollin up trees?
[Jersey smokin up the bom ba zee!]
It don't stop, you better move slowly
I make that chest wet and cosy
Then dip lowkey like OG's
Then inject that antidote to make you OD
You know a better flower get the dough G and show me
I bet you I make em more pussy than Jonsy *meow*
And show em How High I am just from the nosebleed (How High)
I keep it Naughty By Nature
Kick that rugged shit that Maybelline could make-up, lace up

Interlude:

(Yeah Funk Doctor, represent one time for all the blunt smokers)
Smokin weed
(Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, it's how we do)
Let me hear you go ooooohhhh! (ooooohhhh!)
Smoke lalala (smoke lalala)
Let me hear you go ooooohhhh! (oooohhhhh!)
Smoke lalala (smoke lalala)

Verse Three:

Funk Doctor, got your ass locked down proper
Let me next blast derelicts, binaca
I'ma Star at War, smoke blunts, don't Chew-bacca
The head banger boogie for the marijuana shoppers
Lace the tracks with stacks of artifacts
Make the police arrest me for givin the cardiac
Cause I'm the shitter, headbanger non-quitter
Twenty blunt a day nigga, Landcruise whipper
I represent, commence to beat an instrument
Who's next to get that ass bent ten percent
I make you boo pass off your jewels you lose cause
(I am so cool... cool... cool...)
React opponent, I Got Five On It
Met some hoochie, now I got fifty-five on it
With two Coronas, I dominate my opponents
To the hardcore niggaz, keep on! (motherfucker)

Chorus

Aiyyo everybody in this motherfucker will get touched
Fuck such and such I roll tight like handcuffs
Rock that ass to sleep with discrete techniques
I beez that freak of the week like I made Knee Deep
Hold up! Rotate around the solar badder than Cobra
Composure never sleeps, my stream pumps Folgers
I'm sauteein MC's with fried rice up in the wok
without the MSG and chopped celery
See, I made it, my flavor situated
from the nickel plated mic that's hot, to leave your brain inflated
Plus, I'm thick like Quakers on papers
Bodacious MC's get turned to lower cases
lettering, and the medicine, that I'm swallowin
Get you hollerin, like Marvin Gaye when his father shot him
in the chest, I roll with two stacks of Tecs
And mad niggaz and sess that I roll up in your rest
UHH! Mister Fantastic's crafted, with no 52nd ass kick
When I'm blasted, my Method magics get drastic
That you can't see with bifocals
Watchin MC's go up and down like stock brokers
I leave your brains on tilt, with ill skills that's milk
That's rougher than jeans that Gloria Vander-bilt
I'm poppin mad shit, plus I can back it
Your man'll be like "Yo, get that dust off yo' jacket"

[Keith Murray]
It ain't a test or quiz that my Squad can't win
Those who know the biz, know we wreck kids get biz
Y'all digest, multiple stab wounds to the chest
And I copycat kill the rest, with no Method to my madness
Plus the apparatus with the baddest
Determined to be the last man, standin on the planet
Y'all get attached, like a blood-suckin leech
When you fall into my rhythm of speech
Your hands get embraced with a touch of the bass
Head get wrapped up neck get thrown in a neck brace
Rough rhyme mechanical, lyrical at it who?
Will ironically chronically murder you and your crew
My directive, through where I live, is kinda primitive
See I get to the bottom of the problem, and make shit give
Step in the jam, hooded and high, plastered the master
cast to the masses grabs the mic
Ten dollar rappers, is what L.O.D. goes after
To my Squad, there's no matches, we bashes
Do photo flashes on all flavor S-classes
Bomb attack on wax, lyrical mini mac to your back
Tie you up, throw you in the act
A public figure, who walks around with a gin of jigger
Cause I gives a fuck about another nigga, word up

[Jamal]
Muddy Waters, yo this is the way that my intro should go
Drunk slow funk flow for Reggie Noble
Fuck with me doe, Mally G doe it's not logic
Playin that big shit get broke down microscopic
Freak it back keep the track ringin, with the bassline
It's major when you savor my flavor, can you taste mine
Face the nine I lace your spine with short fat pace
Around and round, avoidin the time to put it down
Now's the time here yeah

[Erick Sermon]
Clown where, pick a spot
Neutral grounds or not, we give a fuck, lick a shot

[Jamal]
Gangsta, so called killin, cap peelin
Playalistic, I mean is all that shit realistic
Play your cards God, black keep your hand held tight
Night fall might call your life, shit is trife
on these evil streets after dark
Niggaz gettin sparked left and outlined in chalk
New day, this whole shit's twisted (is it man)
It's me bombin on these niggaz shitlist and Mally G
open your eyes to see, recognize who be a G
Hopin to ride in the, industry with E
The villain's had it cause ahead (word up yeah)
Killin my psychosomatic pattern mad (yeah)

[Erick Sermon]
Y'all know, uhh, yeah, Muddy Waters
We out for nine-seven, word up, peace

Artist: Redman f/ Method Man
Album: Muddy Waters
Song: Do What Ya Feel
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

[Intro: Redman]
Hahahahahaaa
follow... just do what ya feel and I'ma follow
I'ma follow...
Just do what ya feel and we gon' follow
Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow
Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow
Haha, Meth-Tical

[Method Man]
Who wanna flip with the acrobatic
From ground zero all the way to attic, what we be smokin, Tical
The resevoir is now open
I swim the English Channel backstrokin, you don't know me or my style
We hold court and blow trial
You catch 'cal when you browse through my X-Files, who be next now
Man's down, hands down
Hold ground by yo' side when it go down, I dedicate this next dart
to my fucking heart
Little Meth he the best part, now walk with that one, word
Time Time 4 Sum Aksion
Dreamin bout Toni Braxton, blowin her back out like Bob Backlund
I'm throwin wrestlin holds
Tag team with Funk Doc, we in funk mode, take yo' best shot
If it don't hip it don't hop
If it don't quit it don't stop, that's the life

[Redman]
I be the super-lyrical individual I be splittin through
that Teflon material to knock Big Ben off of schedule
Better move with a set of tools
I be doin it to mics when I'm a, heterosexual
I load the mic then cock, drop it like three-quarters
when I slaughter don't get, caught in the water
Cause the Brick's got it's own World Order
Leave your bitch in shock like the third rail caught her
Styles stay deeper than orca, I float the seven seas with ease
Did more drugs than pharmacies
So call me that lyrical Genovese, you can't compare
Get you steppin like stairs, frats, sororities
Don't make me bring it on back I fuck up the majority
of niggaz lookin hard at me, I Port 'em like Authority
And when my nigga Meth shine
out the inner How High mobile rollin three dimes at a time
(Redman and Method Man still... "hiiiigh hiiiiiiiiigh")
It's that Jersey representer
Get hit from the bottom to your head when you enter

[Method] Word...

[Redman] Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow (repeat 3X)
Funk Doc break it down

[Redman]
Hah.. yo, suck my dick out of animosity
The velocity will fly that head and freeze yo' camps like pottery
To give lobotomies to all you rap colonies
And shunt your million dollar investment, to economy
Impossibly might be the one in black leather
Name tag sayin "Caution when wet by the track wetter"
The hash spreader, I love the grimy shit
Even my girl did grimy shit to me and I went back with her
Three years for carrying a loaded handgun
But it's forever when a nigga [chik-chik BLAAAOW] and he lands one
to your cranium
That red dot on your forehead it's not cause you Arabian
(Yo watch you say to him!)
You caught up in a tight situation
I should start erasin your whole organization for makin
wack tunes while my whole platoon rock the basement
You couldn't come close if I gave you my bookin agent
or producer, royalty points twelve shot loaded Luger
Even a crowd to get you souped up - you're still wack
I peel caps, on the regular
Destroy MC's et cetera, creep like The Predator
Fuck you, your label moms and yo' editor
Give you two to the jugular, blood be spreadin
all on my shirt, the king of the flirt shittin
Bitches hit me off more than New Edition
(Tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet, tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet)
I make them pigs heart skip a beat from the steel physique
So Iron Lung (one me gun done)
Get on the mic and break em off with sumthin sumthin

[Method Man]
We moonshine and grow crops
Purchasin the handhelds with the sho' shots, it got me spittin
these slugs at my competition, in rap sessions
U-A-P ain't got no weapon, you lip professin
Next in, line, parental discretion advised
these explicit, street linguistics
Better than yo' momma biscuits, we bomb shellin
I might know but ain't tellin, too bad you missed it
Johnny, Dangerously Blaze another enemy made another due paid
Color-safe bleach so I don't fade
Scar your mental with my double edged blade, razor sharp
get yo' bandaids hold that
Like E said, Get the Bozack
Show them wack niggaz where the do's at
On the case like I'm Kojak
Kissin the grits on that Flo bitch
Flip scripts take LOOONG shits - Raider Ruckus
One, I come with premeditated redrum
Gingivitis to your filthy ass gums
Bottom line either get down or get done
Motherfucker

Dr. Trevis] Redman wake up. Wake up Redman wake up.
(ba ga goom ba gi) This is album three can you hear me?
(ba ga goom ba gi) This is Dr. Trevis can you hear me?
(BA GA GOOM BA GI) You must stay focused you must focus your mind
(BA GA GOOM BA GI) >repeats 14 times to various jungle/bird sounds
>Redman continues to chant explosions are heard
Sound of heavy machinery something crashing
More explosions and/or things crashing
Sounds get louder and quicker, drowning out chant
Sound of ripping/machinery, lion roars
More crash sounds, lion roars, chanting heard again
Lion roars, crash, machinery
[intro ends

Due to technical dificulties beyond our control
Reggie Noble's stinkin ass will not be performing with us

(K-Solo) Erick Sermon, keep keep it on
Def Squad, Erick Sermon, Redman keep keep it on
K to M Keith Murray keep keep it on
Keep keep on, ya don't stop
Keep keep it on, and ya don't stop
Keep keep it on, and ya don't stop
K-Solo, Redman, ya don't stop
Erick Sermon, Keith Murray ya don't stop

[K-Solo]
I X'd ya amateur, damage ya, have fools jumpin off
cliffs grabbin their ass cheeks yellin GERONIMO
It ain't a problem at all when K solve
Three-hundred and sixty degrees rhymes or boulevards
are charged, by my entourage, who put
the Ram in Dodge, bas cla in bumba claat
Maintain, few remain in the game
So I remain focused and pop's the main aim

[Redman]
Well it's the Funk Doctor Spock, the pon cock lyricist
My mentality's so def yo I ain't even hearin this shit
Biscuits be cockin back when I be comin
I guess they heard how I be takin MC's out by the hundreds
Wanted, for two million and a body alone
And use the microphone as my accomplice
Scientist, field-trippin, thinkin
What the fuck is this funky fungus that growed among us

[K-Solo]
Sprayed a few, shank a few, rap crews say they shamed too
But can't hang two, like we do
Fuck them, they better bow slow
This rhyme'll cold hit em, real quick cause I'm K-Solo
Battle any dude, this retifuge I'm in cruise
See what the better vet, could do, to you undouche
you three groups, four punkses at a time
I box two and knock em out at the drop of a dime

[Redman]
The long faced murderer
Servin over two billion motherfuckers

yah word up
Hooooaa haha
haaaaaa ("Iz he for real he can't be" Rock Leflah Leflour Eshkoshkah)
yah word up
Haha hooooaa
haaaaaa ("Iz he for real he can't be")
yah word up
Hoooooaa iz he 4 real
haaaaaa ("Iz he for real he can't be")
Haha unbeknown unbelieved
Hoooooaa haha
haaaaaa ("Iz he for real he can't be")

Somebody light the fuse so I can bring bad news
To all these crews who can't NBA Jam with the shoes
That double shot Hennesee got my mind trippin
Drunk enough to start a campaign on ass kickin
With my nigga Keith who give assists like Scott Pippen
For MC derelict whippin, cap or cock twistin
Drop your money in the slot if your block don't got
a real representer cocked for action like my block got
Rhyme skills three and a quarter for them drop tops
Your caliber, straight up pussy who pop glocks
While I kick facts react on funky tracks
Give me room like the Hyatt while I run this jungle habitat
And if I snap get that monkey off my back
Me and mikes together roll tighter than Slick and Vance Wright
Toast to the real MC's that can feel me
And if your bitch ain't jumpin now then later on she will be
All these weak punk MC's kill me
They don't feel me, come to Jersey get jacked like Jill G

Hooooo, haaaaa ("Iz he for real he can't be") 4X

Hahha
Now everytime I grab the mic I always start shit up
Sharper than your double edger watch me cough shit up
Live and direct respect it to the underground connect
Pah!! I'm wreckin any MC you select
Yo E load me in your gun light the flares
Give me forty eight bars and I go out like gays at Billy Bear
Wear and tear I'm wreckin for the Bricks is where
Jump in my way and get your body splattered everywhere
Conjunction junction what's your function
It's that nigga who's so swift I could lose a compass
Step into jams, with seven niggaz in a Land
And forty motherfuckers in some fucked up caravan
Drop the farenheight back down to zero
Bring Heat to the streets like I'm Pacino and DeNiro
Raw dog material, grand imperial
Talk to my shotty nigga, my ears ain't hearin you

So take heed to what I'm saying
Cause tonight's the night, and me and my nuccas ain't playing

Now do I look crazy? Deranged, maybe?
You shot first, your glock burst, but it graze me
Now time for lyrics, put up your guns
And watch me get this shit hoppin like the West was won
Got that lyrical chicken feed, for all chicken heads
Crowd your Rap City committee, like I'm [Big Leads]
Most bigger than them Melendez brothers
You need Cochran when you're fuckin with Judge Red
Put your fingers up if you love hash and cash
I been that way since Ike Turner was kickin Tina ass
Hookers ridin dick, like I'm a motorcycle
You wanna shine bitch? Let me simonize you
I make sure your vision blur, till you don't know what occurred
Until I black out every nerver
Foul women get served as chicken head hors d'ouerves
I drop your tops like your heads was convertibles!!
Hah, if you still look up in the sky I'm still high
All the way live like Lakeside
Wann die? E (whattup son), you got this beat pumpin
The way I feel niggaz ain't leave until they up in somethin
Pack my dutch like the niggaz in the county
Dayrooms, stay tuned, for Doc Illuminati
Up around them big butt freaks is where you find me
(Martini and Rossi, Asti Spumante)

So take heed to what I'm saying
Cause tonight's the night, and me and my nuccas ain't playing

To my people in the back, if you're not the wack, say
Don't stop, the body rock
To my people in the front, if you're tokin on blunts, say
Don't stop, the body rock... aoowwwwwowwwww
I'm too strong for you to listen
I started spittin, that's why the brick niggaz be lickin
They stay on magazine written equipments
And lyrics I got em by the shipment, where your bitch went
I'm smokin leaky out the Lec-y, fatal
My Squad steps with the ultimatum, true dat
My muzak, move crowds, like down the hill moved crack
For those who stepped on toes, I want my shoes back
Buddy, bringin money to your girl
for your little daughter like I'm Cutty
Twenty dollars a pop to dub me, I bug G, quote it
I see you notice how I leave microphones corroded
Hahahahaha, your staff not up to par
You raw, you're more like Zsa Zsa Gabor
Call deep niggaz, keep the gas pedal floored
And I pump the funk to keep a room and board

*record scratches, rooster cackles

Pick it up pick it up (4X)
If you find a bag of weed on the floor motherfucker
What the fuck you gon do
Pick it up pick it up (3X)

Verse One:

While I crack a cold Beck's and keep the hoes in check
The double S vest nigga wreck the discotheque
Sit back relax and while my Squad kick tacks
Then tap your man back and be like "Did you see that??"
Ahh yes comin from the North South East West
Hold your nose and take a deep breath, recess
we bless, mics, three times a day
Three times a night, it all equals subliminal sequels
Strictly laughing at MC's
Lyrics for years that run more than ten deep
Niggaz be like "Ahh he changed his style up"
Shut the fuck up, ya still a dick-ridah
It's nine-six so get with it
Peep that back-in-the-day shit when that other Squad was Hit-tin
Listen, must we forget, I originated
all that wild shit, that rrraahh rrraaoowww shit
That jump up and ready to fuck shit up now shit
Brick City!! Is where I get down kid
Peace to all my buddah smokers on Prince
Fuck what ya heard, Brick City runs shit

PPP got the glocks and tecs
And Def Squad always got some fly shit on deck
Say what? Got some fly shit on deck
Say WHAT? Got some fly shit on deck
PPP got the glocks and tecs
And Def Squad always got some fly shit on deck

Verse Two:

First of all, MC's be on my balls, straight up
Pubic hairs and everything, lick the whole plate up
Bay Area, roll up your Las Vegas
To all MC's, I love it that you hate us
Drop skills that might send wind chill factors
Back through Patterson, J.C. and Hacken-sack
Step uncorrect and get blackened
The assassin, find da MC's by the jazz men
I don't tote guns I tote funds
While you still puzzled how my antidote runs
Your whole vocabulary's played out, admit it
Still wack if it came out my mouth and I spit it
You remind me of school on a Sunday
No class, beatin all King's down
doin over seventy, in a Hyundai, blast
Give em a good reason to open Alcatraz
Back, nobody got the Red shook
Been a weirdo everysince the doctor said PUSH
Def Squad skills make it hard to overlook me
That's why them hardcore promoters still book me
You shook G... word up... hah hah...

If you see a bag of weed on the floor motherfucker
What the fuck you gon do
Pick it up, pick it up
If you see a bitch passed on out the fuckin ground
What the fuck you gon do
Pick her up, pick her up
I keep it fly y'all
Fly fly y'all (5X)

Verse Three:

Aiyyo, don't ride the dick of these real MC's
We pull Joints like Spike and blow crews to degrees
Then we buy G's with a half a pound of dope MC's
We bag for cheese just to get weed
Smoke indoneez I'm milky like Magnese
Oh-seven-one-oh-three, rest them car thieves
Guzzlin quart for sports of all sorts
Nonchalant spark buddah on the front porch
at courts, F-U-N-K-D-O-C
S-P-O-T, feel the Solo type remedy
Then freeze.... hah, ha-hah
Where was I? Oh yes
Sippin on Cristal with fingers up your bitch dress
Don't play close cause jealousy make folks act loc
Another nigga smoked from impression
Second guessin my verbal weapon, you're lettin
Spit, sixteen bits, come equipped
And I still walk around with the hooked up
Motorola flip on my hip, fuck the government
Drop shit, it's a microscopic topic
How I stay mo' big than McDonald arches
And uptown got the la-la spots
And bad ass hoes with 54-11 Reeboks
But still, I walk around with the grill
Cause niggaz be blinded by this hip-hop shit for real
I ain't havin that, I'm clappin shit
Fuck this rappin shit, I cause accidents
To any, MC who wonder what got in me
To get busy, it's simply Ginger and Remi
It don't stop, Def Squad crew is hot
Fillin up your brain with supreme octane, and it's on
*static from radio surfing*

Thanks Bill
This week on NIN, Niggers in Newark
We're gonna take you through some glorious weed spots
that my camera crew and I had a chance to visit
during our stay in Da Bricks
Although we suffered minor setback this week
when our TV satellite van was stolen
We managed to get around best way possible
We had chances to see spots like
Hawthorne Ave, Hayes Homes, South Orange Ave
Avon Ave, 19th Ave, Chancellor and Bergen
19th and One-Duke; hey if you look closely right now
there's someone about to go for their drugs
or as they would say, stash
Hey, hey buddy, you about to sell some drugs?

[Redman]
Aiyyo man get the fuck out! *blam blam blam*

This here, is the telephone line
of one of the many top notch weed sellers out of Newark
Ladies and gentlemen, what I will try to do
is tap into the line, and hear an actual drug deal in progress
Shhh

W.. F.. D.. S..) Aiyyo aiyyo check this out man
Hah aiyyo hah hah
Aiyyo aiyyo hah hah
Nahnah aiyyo aiyyo
Damn
I'm the bomb ringin off all types alarms
My palms be swift with the pen like Lynn Swann's
Aggravated assault against an MC
Beat him down with the mic and all types of pedigrees
It's mad real in Da Bricks plus I roll thick
You can quote this I'm the Moby Dick of dopeness
Bitch walk the walk if you talk the talk
I DK New Jerz, and DK-New York
I don't push a lot of vehicles, but I push a used one
With a tape deck, if it's feasible
Tell the truth, I don't own a Lex Coupe
But I get you souped when I rock respect due
I'sa nice nigga that wanna get diced
Slice the mic device like the body of Christ twice
E Double if you feel me hit me once
(A breaker one, a breaker two)
Cause trouble to you family and friends
Let me cut the bullshit, just hand me yo ends
Got caught out there cause you a Mack without 10
Punch you in your chin
The rucker, bringer, live from Hell, but stay
cooler than a double L
Turn a felony to a misdemeanor
Now the court subpeonaed me to get my act cleaner
Fuck that, still walk out holdin my strap
Blunt, grabbin my weiner

Now first of all I go for broke
Check the third quarter note, I make you feel like your water broke
Can't tell whether male or female
I fucked up your frame well, the monogram can't tell
All aboard my balls, cause my dick don't got a lot of room
for the rest of y'all
Grab on my pubics, let my music take flight
Rock indo and out-do, dick run in and out yo'
bitch, about nine inch up the clit
Can you feel me comin, yeah I usually make em shit
I shines MC's up for auction
So I can sell em on Saturday, Keith put the bat away
Let's lay in the cut, so we can break his whole anatomy down
and turn into an ass-kicking holiday
Word, I rolls with the Funklord
With more flavors than them motherfuckers on
them Benetton billboards
He's bleeding get the gauze
He shoulda knew Def Squad crew is who I kill for
Push the clip in, slide the top back
Make sure it's off safety, in case he wanna counteract
Shit like that get me vexed
So I crack your ass like corn while your bitch crack my Beck's

Hah-hah
One deuce! One deuce
Aiyyo, catch this picture, of me in the mixture
So you won't forget the, black Jack the Ripper
Sorceror offin y'all with techniques
A universal lingo, with the odd speaks
Control more blacks than Harlem week, freak
Smokin that leak at full peak
Peace to Greg Street, and underground radio technique
College radio, no I mack shit like Maceo
Yeah, the East coast West coast dick giver
I oughta be an alkie, the way I hit liver
Deliver, the milk to your door, real raw
Shit you never seen before
So when you come inside, and do the front
Watch the double-pump shotgun and please don't run
Relax your minds, let your concious be free
And get money, and G's and roll these trees

...
This is DJ SAYWHAT?? on this motherfucker.
Comin to you live from WFDS radio from da Brick City.
(continued on Welcome

Nineteen ninety mother fuckin six
That's that shit though
Get the motherfuckin Squad packed
We got to pull these shoes out like carpet, word is bond
Test the crew with the guns and let's get this shit on

Why, must I be like that? Why, must I pack the gat?
On my left, niggaz be rollin with the ruckus
Ready to get deep bust rounds upon some suckaz
Heard PPP and LOD is a bunch of crazy motherfuckers
Journey to the land is on
The winner of the spittin bomb marathon
The fuck you up lyrathon, whatever you choose
prepare to lose that title
Turnin vital situations suicidal, my idols, is my Uncles
who started smokin weed outta bibles
Gave me a puff when I bust my first rifle
Men-estration cycles, I give bitches
Bring your craziest nigga, I'll give stitches
Whateva, go crew for crew, blow for blow
Bang your headpiece and sniff the snow off your hoe
I keep it rollin...

Ask yourself man
How ugly do you have to be to be a hardcore MC?
Niggaz be fooled by my plaques and my light skin complexture
My whole texture is bombin, destroyin da schools of the wack
From the Land of the Lost, you get tossed
Listen to my veloc(ity), my crew's comin off
Yeah, more sneaky than casino switches
Diggin ditches for all Moskino bitches
Clockin decimal figures, I'm gettin out diggers
Now my choice of truck is a Land
cause a Landcruise much bigger
It pack two to three more niggaz
Damn I hate a golddigger
Yeah, gimme that microphone
I make opponents shit bricks like Tyson's home
I keep the jacked cellular phone blown in three zones
Love seafood and keep my nine millimis chrome
So it can shine up your dome
When I proceed to give you what you need and clear spots like Sea Breeze
Wreckin your

Ayo, I got a slight problem I smoke weed too much
Knees buckle the fuck up when I'm splittin' my dutch
Back up back up! Ain't nobody hittin' for free
It's just E Doubl-E, Keith Murray, and me
It cost twenty if you're down with it
Ayo son I ride around with my hooptie tinted
To ride around blitted
Cause I be feignin' for that pookie
I smoke the good sh, save the backyard boogie for all groupies
And I be, smokin' up the hotel lobby
Between mo' sheets than the Isleys, I'm high G
I'm holdin' it down for the be-Rrrah-I-see
K, blaze, tell you to get bluhh politely
(Hit the funky if you're riding around gettin' blitz)
Ask me if I love the rap game, I, I'm loving it
Cause I can do what the ow fuck I feel is real
Blaze the poot with D. Don and tell uh to get the dills

I smoke on and on on, ya don't stop
I'm gettin' mad fucked up and ya don't stop
To all my real dogs, all my real pals
Who ain't smokin', get the fuck ow
I smoke on and on on, ya don't stop
I'm gettin' mad fucked up and ya don't stop
To all my real dogs, all my real pals
Who ain't smokin', get the fuck ow

I just love tokin', blackin' out like Tame in the open
Of course I got the raw dog no need to stick your nose in
Gave you a straight up shotgun when we was smokin'
Froze you so fast, you looked it like Madonna Vogue-in
Aw! I got the sh to get your whole click high
We can get high, but act funny and I'ma whip out
And they gon' whip out, and blow notes like Michel'le
Cause you tried to jump the cipher and it goes this-a-way

I smoke on and on on, ya don't stop
I'm gettin' mad fucked up and ya don't stop
To all my real dogs, all my real pals
Who ain't smokin', get the fuck ow
I smoke on and on on, ya don't stop
I'm gettin' mad fucked up and ya don't stop
To all my real dogs, all my real pals
Who ain't smokin', get the fuck ow
Smoke Buddah, smoke Buddah

The song you're about to hear, is sponsored by
Nas whip
Niggas against smokin' weed in public places
A subdivision of I-K-S-R-F-O
I'm knockin' somebody right the fuck out

Look up in the sky (SOOP soop...)
It's a bird (SOOP soop...)
IT'S A PLANE!! (SOOP soop...)
Nah motherfuckers (SOOP soop...)
Hahaha

Verse One:

I was flyin through the motherfuckin sky
With my blunt full of lye boom ba zee on five
Code name beez the Soopa Man cock my Luger
Blast on state trooper I'm on the run G
I've got these hoes spreaded from Japanese to diabetics
Toes stay painted because of my foot fetish
You damn right, they had to ban me from eatin pussy all night
W-W-F and then just
slammin in the rope like Sean Mike
I can't be touched bitch, I disco in kryptonite
Shit I'm broke as hell
I had to buy all my girls fifty-fo'-eleven Reeboks at wholesale
Almost got caught boostin out of Bodell's
Bitches on my coattails like they coat rails
Can't even go in a jam without a bitch grabbin my hand
and squeezin my ass sayin "Youse the man!"
That's who the fuck I be
I got a, college degree, on bomb-zee and wreckin MC's
Makin shit happen like Lil' Cease
I come from a land of fontum leaf, bark from trees
that stick in your hand, and lakes rollin sea-weed
Criminals be up to no good
So I tuck a heater
Bulletproof suit still in the fuckin cleaners, but anyways
I bumped into my neighbor Johnny Blaze
Told me there's a bitch up the block who got more cock than AK's
The bitch just moved in, in building 210
Right next door to the Fantastic Four, and the Penguin
Good lookin Johnny, five-oh's right behind me
Let me act like I know and get ghost
Tuck in my Nina-Ross, get my cape and shades
Now I'm off with the Soopaman Three antidote

("While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse")
Cause I am so cool
("When I raise my trigger finger all y'all niggaz hit the deck")
Cause I am so cool
("Cause ain't no need for that, hustlers and hardcore")
Cause I am so cool
("Raw to the floor, raw like Resevoir Dogs")
Cause I am so cool...

Aiyyo word up *cough cough cough hack*
*sniff* to make a long story short
*cough cough cough* and shit, I went
to the bitch house, and this what the fuck happened

Verse Two:

Aiyyo, knock knock, "Who is it?"
"It's the Soopa, here to pay that ass a visit
Heard you wasn't givin up your pussy
So I got the right dick to get with
Where yo' man at bitch?" "He's out of town flippin biscuits"
"Well open up the do' den, before I start unloadin
on your pussy from here and leave it swollen"
"Aiyyo how I know it's you?" "Aiyyo check my credentials"
"I eat yo' gun lead and shit out number two pencils
I ate a ton of dog shit ain't never got sick
Bitch I even know how many keys your man flip
I'm low down and dirty, but not insane
I know all these pussy ass cops by their first name
Smoked a pound of Purple Rain and kept control
Bitch I was the third nigga on the grassy knoll
And you askin me, how you know it's the Soopa
Open the door, I just blast on state trooper"
She opened up the door, and I walked in
She grabbed the hammer, and nailed it till I'm locked in
I said, "Yo whassup bitch? You must be trippin
You must wanna see how this thirty-eight be spittin"
"Nah nah boo, it's my ex-boyfriend, he be buggin
He can't take it no more than I don't wanna fuck him
I was gonna get this nigga Faride to snuff him"
"Well if he come back through, I'm not talkin I'm bustin
Zip my zipper down bitch and start suckin
Get your anus wet for long dick fuckin"
"Oooh, I like the way you talk, just Put It In My Mouth"
"Yeah, and I'ma keep that shit in when I'm comin"
Fucked for thirty-six minutes and twelve seconds
"Hit it from the back yo" oh yeah bitch no question
Turn that ass around, she had tattoos of names on her back
She said, "I keep track"
I started readin her back I couldn't believe
I read one name it said EPMD
I turned her ass around I said no it couldn't be
It was the J-to-tha-A-to-tha-N-to-tha-E
Her pussy walls grabbed my dick so I'm stuck
So I burnt that ass from that blunt hash that I lit up
"Owwwww!!" She jumped up, puffed up, started yellin
I smacked her, cracked her, put her in a full nelson
"Okay, okay, okay, okay, I give up
Besides Soopaman Luva, I think I hear my nigga"
Aiyyo car pulls up, he steps up *skreech* and stick his keys in
The door opened, I snatched him up for no reason
Gave him a two piece with a biscuit, laid him out
Oh shit, it was that nigga Parrish Smith

bus door shuts bus pulls out



Yeahhhahhyeahhhahahhehhh

I got a soda you can't have none of!

I got a soda it's only enough for one hon

I got a soda y'all can't have a god damn sip

I got a soda I know you want it

I...




Aiyyo shut that singin shit up nigga

Ladies and gentlemen this is a motherfuckin stick up!

Put your motherfuckin hands in the air!

blam blam blam

The first motherfucker that move is gonna catch this motherfucker

Word up, up the motherfuckin wallet, the jewels

The cash, take your motherfuckin sneakers off

I'm not fuckin pl... bitch, if you move, I'm tellin you

You gonna get it

Nigga you tryin to hide your motherfuckin hands

Take them rings off motherfucker!

Ay man, gimme that motherfuckin cola nigga

I ain't fuckin playin!

(DJ SAYWHAT??)
Our phone are open for all you high motherfuckers
At 1 800 DIKINYABOOTY
[Redman] Welcome
That's 1 800 dick in ya boo tay!!
[Redman] Welcome

*ringing phone is answered*
Aiyyo this is Mad Duke callin from Da Bricks
I'm on the block with Uncle Quilly and Leroy Sweetdick
gettin my smoke on for you onionhead motherfuckers

Hi this K Spark from the Al Parks dammmn!

Welcome to another nineteen ninety-six Funk Doctor Spock tape
As we take y'all minds on another journey, through the darkside
We uplift you! Def Squad force comin through with the ruckus
Jammin for all knotty-headed peasy motherfuckers, ahh
And for funky bitches, we got a funky thing for you

I said I gets down like that, who am I (Funk Doctor)
(as I kiss the sky)
I said I gets down like that, who am I (Funk Doctor)
(as I kiss the sky)

Bomb troll, funkier than Haitian underarms
Represent Jersey, the land of firearms
Hotwired cars, emptying cigars
Afros, mofo's, on knees with momo's
It's nasty as I come my shit be douche
I used to be the chief instructor for Bruce
Choose your weapon -- A FATALITY
Line your crew up now -- BABALITY
In nineteen ninety-six bitch ass niggaz all in my mix
On some rah rah shit, get my rah rah dick!
Nuts alert, first sound de alarm on de expert
My network, operate sharper than a Gilette works
Off the corner style Blinds in Knightening Armor
About more Facts of Life than Tudy or Blair Warner
Chi-Town where you at (we got your back)
D.C. where you at (we got your back)
My crew Come Strapped like MC Eiht with nickel plates
Gettin mad Dead Presidents ask Lorenzo Tate
Ahh, gettin loot rollin craps in the yard
Can't be scarred by media, SO FUCK THE MEDIA
Most MC's are terrible, unbearable
Couldn't get stupid if you were sliced cerebral
Ahh no need to... act like he's shittin
Man you're funnier than Ed Griffith, it's Red's kitchen
My infrared's missin, damn I'm slippin
I'm out of ammo, yo Crossbreed, stick the clip in

It goes one for the mind and two for the money
Who dat wit skull tattooes and his nose runny
It's me that funky MC the Rrr ah E
Indubitably I'm Jersey down to Mitentry
Officer you're hawkin the ninety three Landcruise
When it's real criminals you should be watchin for
Get off my dick for what you don't got
Plus you probably never licked a shot on your block
Walkin to my car witcha nine out the holster
Put your hands on the steering wheel like ya sposed ta
I cooperate don't give the redneck no hassle
Because too many mistakes be happening to black folk



I said what the fuck are you lookin 4?
Can't a young man make money anymore?
Hah hah, leave ya butt naked...
I said what the fuck are you lookin 4?
Can't a young man make money anymore?

Aiyyo stash that weed up while me and the cop is riffin
Damn I knew I shoulda got that stash box built-in
But it's alright cause me and my niggaz roll tight
We all think alike, we jump out whoever packin pipe
Don't they know who's the freak from the East?
I get faded like Chong and Cheech without bleach
And started spittin game 'fore these cops start to reach
on these creeps, showin mentality from the streets
Even though we had a half a pound by the seats
My peeps never tweek, we handle shit when there's heat
Since one cop was white the otha was a brotha
I pulled out my tape and front page of the cover
of The Source, told him me and Janet's on tour
Broke it down to who's my boss and who I rap for
Plus them niggaz, EPMD
Put me D, now I'm runnin with the Green Eyed B
A-N-D-I-T, and Def Squad camp
Here's your Def Jam tickets and your autograph
Now haul ass, I got a meetin bout seven
Basically I'm saying bye bye like Guy



My license, been suspended, for about five years
The system got my ass in the jam
Can't even ride to see my fam in Alabam'
I get petrified everytime I see the man throw the lights on (woop woop)
The mic's on so I stress it
Shit I'm haulin ass before I start undressin
Niggaz on they knees with they hands on the top of the
heads while the Feds crack jokes with the glock in ya
Don't get me wrong I know a lot of cool cops
That'd let me go if I had two glocks and oowops
But, I don't, so, I keeps it, real
The five hundred series with deep dish peels
Quick, my bitch, stash, two clips, between two her tits
before the cops fuck with the Rrr-ah
I'm a nigga of today a nigga of tomorrow, beyotch!



To my people in Kentucky rock rock on word is bond
Newark New Jersey rock rock on word is bond
Atlanta Georgia rock rock on word is bond
Connecticut rock rock on word is bond
To my people up in Queens rock rock on word is bond
Bri-donx in the house rock rock on word is bond
Virginia's in this bitch rock rock on word is bond
San Francisco rock rock on word is bond

Yeah, bitch ass niggaz rock this

[E Dub] Microphone check one two
Aiyyo you ready to get down man?
[Red] Yo whateva man
[E Dub] You ready to get drunk as fuck?
[Red] Whateva man
[E Dub] You you sayin somethin?
[Red] Whateva man
[E Dub] Aiyyo
[Red] Whateva man
[E Dub] Check it Kool V

(I keeps it bangin keep it swangin
Mike type of sangin) Ohh la la la! (So what cha sayin)

Verse One: Redman, Sermon

Yo, I'm smokin herbals till it hurts you
I keep your daughter way out past her curfew
Hard far from commercial
(So what cha mean nigga)
We don't give a fuck when we smoked out
In the land that's doped out [it's like that?] no doubt
From this bomb weed, I cock from the streets
Get you open like buttcheeks, from girls who be freaks
Aiyyo, can I be SWV?
You the One nigga
Rap Shogun, yes E the one
Yo, I'm rollin with a forty pack of niggaz
Get my weed from Branson cause his sack's bigger
Yo give me dap nigga
What I clap lyrically tap call back
Ferocious causin comatoses to collapse
So chinky eyed I see people wavin on a map
I make it hotter than your thermostats (beep beep beep beep)
Bomb MC's with rough megahertz so call me
Funk Doctor verbal starburst, lyrical expert
Your boombox better form a union
Cause I leave your circus overworked, word bond
Niggaz front like they want it
But I be in the five hundred with E steadily gettin blunted
Damn nigga you cool at what you spittin
So why you holdin the blunt so long politickin
Huh, I ace them blunts with the technician
of electrician, I don't got a pot to piss in
But still spend my last on hyrdroglycerin
I keep it live no jive rollin Dutches
that's Masters like the Furious Five
I, keep your crew chinky eyed, for bitches actin dog
(Can you hit it from the back?) Why not, while we toke on this

*woman moaning* (ohhh daddy... aiyeee)
[Sermon and Red harmonizing]

[Red] Yo, you ready to roll this weed up?
[E Dub] Whateva man
[Red] You ready to knock this nigga out?
[E Dub] Whateva man
[Red] Yo, you ready to get this chedda?
[E Dub] Whateva man
[Red] You ready to start this shit off?
[E Dub] Whateva man

Verse Two: Redman

I smoked with a lot of college, students
Most of em, wasn't graduatin and they knew it
You know the weed slang? Yeah boy I speak it fluent
I light your college dorm with my entourage from Newark
Bigger they come, harder they fall
That goes for, knuckleheads, MC's, pussy walls and all
I lit my first L before I started to crawl
I got my ass whupped when I had my first brawl
But things changed since I was twelve years old
I specialize in wreckin mics and area codes
Now, PPP the kinda niggaz that'll bug witcha
Smoke bud witcha, later on stick a sluginya
Everything that's like green ain't the bomb bitch
I got different forms to make you lose your calm bitch
Read my lips, you ain't hittin unless you got
Ten on it, get on it, or get the fuck out my cypher

[Red] You ready to roll this weed up?
[E Dub] Whateva man
[Red] You ready to rob this niga?
[E Dub] Whateva man
[Red] You ready to fuck bitch?
[E Dub] Whateva man
[Red] You ready to guzzle this liquor?
[E Dub] Whateva man

(E Dub harmonizing again

Yo hard beats like this keep my mentality raw
I G off C 4 lyrics to blow off them Lex door
My tex ture be the kind that explore
MC's then blow em out metaphor after metaphor
I'm more wetter than your boy bigger
So how you figure you can fuck with this rap unemploy nigga
I should own a fly bitch house and a Benz
But I got chickenheads criminals and broke friends
that love to get in keep the seventeen spinnin
Pull out from my jaw linin, commence to split end
Brains and body parts that motion couldn't picture
Cause when I'm shittin niggaz hit mo decks than a skipper
Mr and Mrs Howe, MaryAnne and Ginger
Gilligan, you need the Professor to take the rigger
waters out I got orders to kill em softly
I wouldn't leave a trace if I died and police chalked me
Who's the Boss G you better radio the walkie talkie
For the Fatal Attract MC's that stalk me
Got a big dick and your bitch click
When I flip this I got more work than a olympic gymnast
Bust it, I cut the mustard, on any track
Milkier than Similak when I'm next up to bat
("Redman is on the mic and I'ma..."
"Dope motherfucker, yeah, you best ax somebody" Snoop)

(Yesh yesh y'all, and you don't stop Sermon 8X)

Fuck the talk I walk whatever I claim to do
Knock a mule on her ass and turn her pussy black and blue
You couldn't run up if your Fighter was Virtua
I'm a round-the-clock lyricist, I sleep in my work boots
It's a Thin Line Between Love and Hate
It's a thin line between the trigger and the finger of a thirty-eight
Deaths by far, my rap repatoire
be the art of murderin makin it hard for you to spar
We can chill and puff the ganja, but don't be mad when the
Funk Doctor Spock smoke it with your baby mama
Get off my dick and tell your bitch to come here
Male groupies gettin shaky when I come from the rear
Hah, that get on your nerve neighbor that play the
music loud as fuck three in the mornin off a paper
With mad Zul in the L-S-C
In the downtown area, scannin the perimeter
All my boos with the open toed shoes
If you ain't gettin that pussy eaten right, let me show you
Then let you taste these, this Brown Fox said
Ain't No Nigga like the Funk Doctor Spock G

(Yesh yesh y'all, and you don't stop Sermon 4X)

As I dive into the crowd
I wanna see who the fuck gettin loud
Who da fuck runnin off at dey mouf?
I let my nigga Fifty Cent knock that ass out
Word bond, bitches talkin bout pourin out Cristal
and Dom P they better stick to Sade
Blackin out whylin, smackin out weaves
Break niggaz cheap ass chains and medallions
You're just a part time sucker in the game
Shit is real motherfucker start namin names
And if you name my name I whoop ass like Steven Seagal
Give you Under Siege 2 without the fuckin train
Let your brains hang from the 808 bang
And if I wrecked your cipher then my Squad is to blame

(Yesh yesh y'all, and you don't stop Erick Sermon 12X then fades)

We'll be right back with some more funk shit
for all you stankin asses after we pay these bills

[Puffy]
Aiyyo
One two, one two
One two, one two
This one right here
Goes out to all the fake thugs out there
Yeah, yeah uh huh

Yo, when you say you thuggin', it doesn't matter
It goes into my mind as just chit-chatter
You may say I have a ego, or just merry free
But none of that tough talk I take seriously
It goes in one ear and right out the other
Heard that fake thug shit? brotha
I don't mean to brag, never never hate
You ain't got the bank that it takes to stop this
Ha, ha, ha, ha sucker, you missed
I put feelings aside, you know who I am
P-U-2-F, keys to the U.S.
And I hate when one attempts to analyze
Franchise, get your hands tied
Thrown over a boat, don't know what you was thinking
That dream is over, your body sinking

[Redman]
Yo yo yo, yo yo yo, fucka
You thugs out there who don't got a clue
(You have Brooklyn, ain't shoot the shit out)
Yo, fuck you, you and you, fuck you and you
(You have Jersey, ain't shoot the shit out)
Hey yo bitch, you know what I want when I bring my crew
(We go Uptown and shoot the shit out)
Yo, we want hardcore, smash the walls
I stack, bring it back for y'all
With 40 nigga's after y'all

[Puffy]
We got it ziplocked (that's right)
Everybody hit the floor when the shit drop
Shit knocked, bitch stop (bitch, stop)
We roll, we ball, we all night long
We don't stop, nigga's thought the heat was gone
But I'm back to do it again, leader of rhyme
BAD BOY, we turn it to the scene of the crime
Immaculate fame, you can have that shit
I just wanna 'gaitor slide with the baddest bitch
Models and actresses that swallow bottles
That magnum shit
Get nice as fuck, leave when the lights is up
Tear it down when the mics is up
Lately they say Diddy's gettin' nice as hell
Shit, if I don't write it I recite it well
Locked the flow so tight you gotta know
I'mma tumble 'fore they rock my dough
Motherfuckers

[Redman]
Yo yo yo, yo yo yo, fucka
You thugs out there, you don't got a clue
(You have Boogie Down, don't shoot the shit out)
Yo, fuck you, you and you, fuck you and you
(You got Shaolin, don't shoot the shit out)
Hey yo bitch, you know what I want when I bring my crew
(You have QB, don't shoot the shit out)
Yo, you want hardcore, smash the walls
I stack, bring it back for y'all
With 40 nigga's after y'all

[Puffy]
Aiyyo ladies, get up
Bounce your tits up
Be happy Brooklyn ain't shoot this shit up
Cause I see some ladies tonight
That I could give a condom or 3 babies tonight
You might catch a flight if you playing me right
But if you whack there you gettin cab fare
Yo, I'm all for drama, a little clap clap there
I mean I ain't Ghandi of this whole rap gear
But you see honey that I'm rappin with there?
All I need is a minute to get her back to the Leer
Back where it is, less traffic there
Where Cease is with a few of his pieces
That's how we is, we slide and divide
If she ain't with it, I-95
Hit the road tramp, and don't you come back no mor

[Puffy]
I'll never stop
I don't give a fuck
If it's me against a million billion of
Ya'll mother fuckers
I will never stop

I bust six out the roof of my Bentley Coup
Head shots so mother fuckers can't regroup,
Can't recoup
I'll be damned if you get more points than me
Sell more joints than me
Steal your faith, take a puff, inhale my name
Smoke on it, shit, choke on it
Bitch nigga, I'mma make a hit nigga
Hot mother fucker down to the skit nigga
Game over playa, and nigga ya scored low
Hit me later young, and I'm at the award show
Bank account ten digits and it's all "O's"
I floss the most shit, fuck the most hoes
Come on, you can even ask Don Juan
It's official now, they all rock Sean John
Might have to change my name to strong arm
You came to get money man?
That shit been long gone, come on

[Shyne]
Have much to do with nigga since Nicolas Bond
Poppin' and choppin' until the day that I'm gone
Shyne poor, cuz your dream come from one bottle
Prominent premier, premium bravo
Watch him explain ain't nothin'
But blood thug crime though
Shots in the spinal, from my rivals
Cross the t's and dot the i's and
Pay the judge, drop the top we'll mess around
Shit, it's the kid rapper's feelin'
You cowards don't know?
I'd rather be racketeerin' somewhere
Bustin' shots in the atmosphere and
Not caring, fuckin' the proscecutor at my hearin'
Money laundering, honies wondering
Who me? I reply casually
Come what God would be if He was a straight G
Tonight too tight out of a big ditch we ride

[Redman]
Yo yo yo, it's your hide
Grab the rope and yell rawhide
Front line is pussy, call off sides
I'm focus but my hand is cross-eyed
I left my gun home, here borrow mine
Pop the nine like a judge "All rise"
This gun'll knock plants off tall guys
We value-packs, y'all small fries
(Yo, I'm from the projects)
Yo, but on the floor tied
Don't matter, we'll take up all size
Truly yours doc, then PPP hide, my name is
Since five, I talk jive
In church dressed in cordoroy ties
Now I'm grown up and been married four times
Besides, I'm just a sight for soar eyes
Brick city, known pop the door wide
Stolen Bonneville in New York High

[G-Dep]
Reversin' the plot
Last come, first one to rot, first in the glot
If I miss, circlin' the block, servin' the pot
And I be the person to watch
If your girl missin' the rock, purse and a watch
Hot as it gets, from Hell came outta you debts
Buy the cassette, rewind it to death
Alota y'all sweat it, you try to forget
How I rock shit from N.Y. to Tibet
You got it to bet? That's just how you got into debt
You lost when you nodded your neck
Through the vest,
Through the chest that you tried to protect
Take the voice that you try to project, check
Darin' you to kid, cat shootin' sperm in you wiz
I'm why you smell herb in the crib
Man I'm out for doubtful, shit I spit a mouthful
Indo out-do, intro to outro

[Sauce Money]
I'm the hottest thing spittin' so go warn

[Incomprehensible]

Still walkin' down the streets with my hand on my black tec
My brain is high like New York, New Jersey do car thefts
I'm high, when I sag my two black guys
I would be brief but my Karl kani's didn't dry

I smoke the blunt for all you underground chumps
My smoke bangs like it's freshly picked from the swamps
So nigga how you roll a blunt? Aiyyo, how you roll a blunt
Flip the script on some other shit like how you roll a cunt

Now, I smoke the Maui, wow-wee
Then I'll be back for me, I'm sure, like Al B
Go uptown, smoke quarter-pounds at the Dungeon
Keith Murray meets me at the spot with the bom-ba

Go back to Jerz smoke with Diezel Don
Huh, pick up a bag from my block, two O's the number
Who can get swift with the microphone mist
Plus I'm crisp like CD's on LP's in 3D

My funk respect it, cosmic injected
That cause me to set it off just like that club record
Hit it from the back, stay strapped like two packs of lubricants
It's gonna hurt, no it's not a gat experience
The funk dweller, creeps through your cellar
And if your moms don't know your ass better tell her, like this y'all

Like this y'all, like this y'all 'cause like this y'all

There's a million and one blunt spots all over the world
That got good herb for all you boys and girls
Which one do you go to? [Incomprehensible]
Which one do you go to? [Incomprehensible]

I'm packin' Buddha by the pounds and pull my Phillies from knapsacks
Hey yo I didn't know your nickel bags come that fat
Yo check it, my lyrics strip the track butt-naked
Catch the local to the A to the Buddha to my vocals

And I, set the world on fire
Get a billion people higher, from just one blunt in my cypher
You swore to God you was mixed in bom-ba-zee
The rhymer bombs squads and MC's like Hank Shocklee

I spend a knot at all the Buddha spots
From fifteen to fifty-fifth I ran all through the blocks
I set it off jock, I light a blunt for my nigga D
That's doin' three pack, now where I get the hash at

You can't fuck with my funk 'cause my funk is kinda abstract
Past that, my stuff I'm rough like McGruff on dust
There's a million and one blunt spots in America
Yeah, I'm tellin' ya

[Incomprehensible]

Now just throw your blunts up in the motherfuckin' air
Smoked out with niggaz from north New York to Montclair
I rip the nouns from antonyms to synonyms
'Cause I got soul like James Brown and Rakim, Rock M&M

One of the America's Most Blunted
Smoked out with MC Eiht and compton most wanted
Ninety degrees, smoke with L.O.D. on the Island
Then back to Stat, to smoke more packs with the Shaolin

I showed the women how to roll a blunt stronger
But it didn't work because they lee nails got longer
But the weed is good for when you're makin'
And girls can front it off like they don't know shit that happened
I know what happened, I told her, back
Nick that motherfucker so check

My stamina, your ass couldn't snap with cameras
Leave you on your back like Godzill did gamera
Props on blocks smokin' the choc and what-nots
I might catch a nickel bag sale from bus stops

Whoo hahh... ohhahh wooooh

Aww shit!!



Hey dudes my interludes more fatter than most niggaz LP's

So don't sell me to stale cheese

I'm more nicer than Little Red Robin Hood's grandmama

puffin on ganja sippin on a Cherry Bianca

My grand finale's like an alley when it's rowdy

kick more bars than the penile G

And let my nine clap loudly

Click click bee yow bang booyaka!!

What am I do to ya? It's somethin new to ya

Like screwin ya, all over my studi-ah

Ride on my MP-60 and let the S-950 squeeze your titties

That quickly I hooked you, now fix me with your lips

B...otch, unloosen my belt thinkin to grab the crotch

But before you do move my glock before it shoot my cock



And see basically them trick bitches get no dap (word)

And see basically Redman album is no joke (word)

And see basically I don't get caught up at my label (word)

Cause I kill when they fuck with food on my dinner table (word)



I drop a punchline at lunchtime

cause I'm a Close Encounter of the None Kind

with dumb rhymes

I battle allay'all at one time

So fuck all you fools out there with the large vocabulary

in your sentence, I don't need that shit to pay my rent with, huh

And to the nosey snake-ass hoes I ask you

Why you be acting all fly

when your monkey-ass work at fast food?

And why is it everytime that a multiplatinum artist

always use the underground to make a comeback?

Is it fair to the hardcore niggaz that rap?

That don't give a fuck about the radio

plus the next bitch at that?

And being hardcore and mad about wearing high-tech boots

and black skelly hats?

And making fake-ass frowns because your best buddy packs?



Think about it

Sip on a chocolate thai, and let your brain fall out of focus

This is another episode, coming live from the Funkadelic man himself

Yeah

Ahhh

Huh

[Jeff Stewart]
And I say... right about now you are rockin with the best!
Can I get a hit? *inhale* *coughing* Thank you *coughing*
What you're about to experience is a walk on the Funkadelic side
Who knows better than the Funkadelic devil himself
To all knotty head niggaz bob to this
Come walk with Def Squad on the darkside
Coming to you live and direct without further adieu
I bring to you Redman one more time
This is Jeff Stewart and you know how I do it... god DAYAM!!!

[Redman]
So who's that funky nigga that's known to kick the fat shit?
The mirror said "You are, you conceited bastard"
*cutting and scratching of bastard*
Done by the dogcatcher, dogcatcher, it's the dogfetcher, I betcha
Aahhhhhhhhhhh, with the slang
Get you coughed up from the weed it'll bust your brain
The top notch of hip-hop and I'm on the charts
I'm catchin applause when I rock the micraphone from the heart
My style's foul, so look into the eyes of Lorimars
As you can see, I drop funk bars from here to Mars
Still rollin down the highway wit my forty between my lap bitch
Crossin DTW, coming into my lap and
Boy my skills are stacks, I love to do it from the back
My style swarms over ghettoes like crack
Blow in any hood and puff a blunt with any nigga
As long as we both got, it don't matter who's gun bigger
But I bet you you can't do that, cause the multiplatinums
can't save your ass on the block, and you're fucked if it ain't pop
The funk is blowin wattage out your fuckin trunks
Like peak Puma, I known to give a whole lots of lumps
Props I got, coming through your block nine cocked
My socks, even got three-eighty-nine shots
Don't press it, I hang em like them niggaz do in Texas
You don't have no heart you chestless, 'cause your heart's on my necklace
I give props to real MC's like KRS-One
cool G Rap, Buckshot, Busta me and I'm from
The East coast!! Where a nigga like you get that fat?
And since you came out gassed, well I'm closin your gas cap
The creature, from the deeper, ultimate funk freaker
Represent New Jersey, keep your eyes up on the bleacher
A menace like Dennis, I got game like Ennis
I can french-kiss my lyrics, then I run trains with sentence
Lord have mercy! It's too much funk to cope with
Droppin dope shit after dope shit, we're atrocious
That's from the lungs, that rings from here to kingdom come
And I don't have to be a Special Ed to get dumb!!

I'm like row row like I have cerebral palsy
My flows be's wet like all you girls drawers be
Crack the dill's spread the Buddha in the hid-ouse
Roll it up and Diddas, who tipped in for the 10 bag
Etcetera, I roll my blunts with two textures
Pick up 50 bags and then I smoke all the extras
It's the truth like funk 180 proof
Don't drop your drawers I'll fuck through your daisy dukes, true
Put your fingers up in the air if your high
I walk by, so f-in' dry
I swing up in it 'bout an average as half as
Good as Reggie Jackson's that's why you talk backwards
And touch bills and Bogart shit like Humphrey
You couldn't beat me if you ran with 21 Jumpstreet
Or 90210 fuck it yo, in the movies
I'm the Nigga puffin' Buddha in the back row

[Chorus:]
I can't wait to get it on [Repeat 8x]

I'm just a smoky boy, I'm from the land of the lost
You can't see me like Charlie Angel's boss
I'm often coolin' round the Bliddocks
I rock round the Cliddock
My Gliddock cocked from here to 16 for Liddocks
I tried to Thomas if I'm gettin' scopic
I was built like two tits but now I'm butter like Blue Bonnet
Now who got the funk, we got the funk
A yo well, I got the weed, we got the blunt
I never sniff, I used to puff Buddha's in the jail
Back in 88 when it was 20 cent a gram
You couldn't read me in braille, hell
I write my names on walls in smoke spots when I'm buyin' L
The fly guy with force like Luke sky
Down for 8 ball see twa bitch if you fly
The funkadelic been rockin' mic's since the fourth grade
I terminate like X and I terminate like Schwarzenegge'
Dum di dum, rock like Buju Banton
Soup like won ton, fuck by the ton
Please, my whole crew's makin' cheese
Tonight's the night baby so suck up on these
And it's on

[Chorus]

I said, I catch the A-train to the left, smoke the junk
I set shit off like Boba Fett.
Big up to all my Nigga's in the housing projects
I'm Runnin' up in your contingents and split your guts, round and round
If you get scared of my lines when I rock well
Got wits like Pernell, shits the bomb like Akinyele
Rickety rock it, mind be best to knock this
Waste Nigga's like toxic, wet like galoshes
Can I handle my biz? Yes you can
I 'cause chaos and bring a lot of def to jams
Yes I can, now ask to get out
Pop the trunk, clu-clunk and now give me a ba-bump ba-bump
Oh, cool, smooth like two blue suede shoes
Y'all faggot's stepped on my Huffman and Coo's
Word to Dan, tan, pillow and cool be

Intro: Keith Murray

Yeah, bout to fly that knot
Redman, Keith Murray, Erick Sermon with the, Cosmic Slop
And we all pack glocks
Word is Bond, word is bond
Fuck around and get shot

Verse One: E Double

As I flip, skip to the beat, on wax, and tax
I react with tons of macs, a ball, and some jumping jacks
Flyin expert, puttin in work
No question, cosmic funk and weed session
Like GangStarr, step up, it's Hard to Earn
But I change up the mode, and blow up the globe
The bandit, spittin dialect umm (UMMM)
Catchin wreck umm (UMMM)
One two micraphone check (UMMM)

Attention passenger's we're on a non-central journey
To Hell and beyond
FUNKADELIC DROP THE BOMB!!

Verse Two: Redman

Boo-yaa!
I'm that type of nigga to give it to ya
My Cosmic Slop rules all blocks with funk maneuvers
My flow freeze the Nile, The Funk Child splits the river
Then I crush, like the bom-ba-zee was rushed, through my verbal lust
I'm spaced out, I LOST MY MIND ON CLOUD 19
VISINE FOR EYES, when I blow Alpines
Dial 9, 0-0, For the hero of the wierdos
I hope my brain don't bust
Transform into a 7-11 Slurpie Slush
IT'S THE FLY, My music will burn eyes
Twice the chemical of Clorox
Then I do an autopse on four cops
When my jaws drop, ock, I fidget my nuts a lot
Got the two glocks, with oowops then bodies trace the chalk
I'm like an eclipse on a Friday, the 13th
With black cats and Haley's Comet, blazin blunts in my driveway
Nostradamus predicted, for you funk fiends
That Def Squad will get the fuckin cream like Noxem...geyeah

For those that remember pics and afros (it's on like that)
Platform shoes and bell-bottoms some got em
Spaced out, way out, is what I'm talkin about
In the Cosmic Slop of the Ghetto
zuzuzuzuzu, zuzuzu, zuzu zuzu zuzu
zu zuzu, zuzu zuzu zuzu zuzu zuzu zuzu

Verse Three: Keith Murray

With amazing manifestations, I dictate to nations
More Cosmic Funk innovations in my creation
This Cosmic sick mic cylcicyst
Mega segments, be Sega, like Genesis
I orbits the solar system, listenin
Guzzlin, never sippin, or slippin and sympin when the track is rippin
I gotcha brain cells bendin and twistin
Man listen, I give your whole crew a ass drenchin
Just for mentionin, goin that route, runnin yo mouth
You get your head smacked off towards down South
And your crew too will be spaced out
Way out, no doubt, y'all niggaz need to stop
And get with this Cosmic Slop

(Cosmic Slop, Cosmic Slop)

And now, we program, we program
Pop in the disk and who the hell is this?

Switch...

[Dr. Trevis]
Hahahahahahaaaa!
Come with us
Come take the elevator shift six billion feet beneath
Where the Def Squad dwells
Where your dreams and imaginations is only
loose change in a motherfucker's pockets
This is Dr. trevis coming to you live from WFDS
We're From the DarkSide radio
Niggaz, better get your flashlights
cause it's pitchblack!

[Redman]
I travel the Milky Ways, and the stars of the Gods
Then return six billion feet beneath to get cigars
My lyrical format sounds off like gun claps
Underground, where you need flashlights and hard hats
My mind is ten levels deeper than Jacob's Ladder
Batter the paragraph, after your gall bladder will shatter
Nyphomaniac on track when I Flex like Funkmaster


Flex you can bet I'm not playing with a full deck!

I go far beyond acting hard and pullin triggers
I just wanna die and come back as the Nile on the river
Zone until I figured, how to wake up in the morning
And the corners of my mouth be like foamin when I'm open
Y'all neighborhood roughnecks, I cause a threat
My silhouette, who pack smacks niggaz just like Treach
Comin through comin through, put your hands on your handfun
Cause I'm crazy off that chronic from my man grandson
I shoot to kill, puff blunts in Hooterville
I be murderin MC's from up here to Urbantown
I sweat dark, when I get off my shit ock
Yoyoyo that's that's E and them!
Yo word up? Yo what's going on?
Yo chill chill chill chill
*car squeels, bullets fire and ricochet*
*tires squeel and car crashes*

Motherfuckin ladies and gentleman
My style's rugged like Timberland
When I clock lyric then women give me more love than Wimbledon
My style flow local like New Jersey transit
And I can't stand it
And you'll need Teddy to unjam it when I cram it
I'm from N to the E
W A R K Newark NJ got the AK
When I wave bitch you better say heeyyyyyyyy
I'm a Kid From the Hall
I got big balls to make your pussy walls dribble in my drawers
Hey boy this is the way the East coast swing it so bring it
Man I told you ass Brown-er than James with the Sex Machine shit
I keep the chronic patrol on the road
In case you're wondering why I keep my izm
Cause I smoked everybody else's shit up
My style's the ultimate funk when I mic checka
One two checka
And I give effects to niggaz with my Black and Decker
So check the, manuscript, man you flipped
Put it down if you can't handle it
Got a B-R-C-G, Blunt Rollers College Graduate
I got a degrees in Physics on how high I can get
Then next I check how many niggaz that can die from my Tec
Cause the N-E-W-A-R-K is where the niggaz robbin and stealin
And fuckin niggaz everyday
Now Jersey's on max so pass the dutchie on the lefthand side
Hide the hidash, in case we cridash, in my ride
So, sliiiide, before I call the medics
You can bet bitch you couldn't get fly if you were FedEx
Can I, drop the funk on ya, run it on ya
Strong as ammonia, smell it from here to California
Cause Reggie Noble dropped that cock named Noble at Sunoco
I'm better than rice and beans when I rock you ocho to ocho
My music more underground than a kid at 300 XL
Convertible, fuel-injected, that's why my style's well-respected
I'm dope on the ridealz, so fidealz, on my didealz
And chumps are wondering what two niggaz dropped the funk funk

Verbally you never heard of me I smoke you third degrees
And cause surgery for emergency
Cause Reggie Noble's known like burglary
I get hot busted when I dip my nuggets
Hey, if it take a million niggaz to stop it just like Chuck did
Cause we run around Newark with the nine cock
Keep it heated for the brothers that's not off my block
And if ya don't know the flavor, be a tough guy and enter
So go show you more nigga events than Jacob Jaffrey center
I'm genuine, to the rhyme, get your canines
Cops that got the hot glock stocked for when it's playtime
I rock around the Robin TWEET TWEET on the calendar
Cause you couldn't pull my number if your class major was Algebra
I make bitches moan to my Stallone without Sylvester
Cause I'm more deadlier than a whole school system of investors
So check us, I always smoke mad blunts before breakfast
Cause I, Get Around like 2Pac with Poetic in my Justic
Hold tight, hold tight, everybody hold tight
I'm sooper like my man cat, cause I keep my styles jam packed
I wrreerawwwowww like Anthrax, split my pants like Bill Bixby
You could tell the tracks was fat from the work of my MP-60
I smoke the chronic that's why my sinus always fucked up
Them bones, them bones, them bones will have you fucked up
I blaze blunts with my nigga Mellow, yo say hello
(Yo whattup dogg?)
Really, now pass the second blunt to Quilly
Now sit your big ass down 'cause I don't know about this rap stuff
There wasn't rap when I was pickin cotton, sayin massa
Y'all y'all whippersnappers, with the caps on backwards
Man, y'all fuck around with Quilly I kick a bone out yo' ass quick
Watch out now, I ain't bullshittin
I representin the oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-G's from forty-three goddamnit
And if you keep on with that dirty mistreatin
I'm gonna whoop your ass, til your heart stop beating

And yo, chronic bubonic the funky bionic
You find it I'll have to rewind it where minds are blinded
Time for some action so time to find it
I smoked out like a cookout, look out my dick's out
That was last album when I was bouncin on trains like Malcolm
I was hiiiiigh, I thought I wouldn't survive
That's why I quit my nine to five and got live
Because this hip-to-the-hop shit fills my pockets
And I'm Audi for ninety-four because I already got my props
Hoes, hoes, and more hoes...

Woo-woo-wowowowooo
Lord hi-gher
Could somebody, turn on, da lights
Somebody, turn on, da lights
The darkside! Yessss

Guess who's back when I bring funk like Zapp
All aboard motherfuckers! While your brains get jacked
I'm souped like two scoops of funk juice, word to mother
The way I kick you swear that Jim Kelly was in this motherfucker
The darkside brings apartheid
I act wild like them niggaz from Chi-Town on the Southside
Sweeter than this, whoopin niggaz down like Jack Nich
When I backflip my tactic graphics
Ooooooh! Redman jams it in
Due to difficulties I won't be done by ten
Friend I got bust shots out the twelve Benz
And then we get the bam-ba-zee from one-ten
Or is it further up? Plus my style murder ducks
So what the fuck, you got the mic turned up fo'?
When I Chief Rock underground MC's drop like sheet rock
Here's a ride to the underground

To the beat y'all
Ah to the beat y'all, I do the freak y'all
I keep the buddha to last me through the week y'all
To the beat y'all
Ah to the beat y'all, I do the freak y'all
I keep the buddha to last me through the week y'all

Come take a trip on my cosmic movie boogie flicks
Far beyond space so niggaz say your grace
It's a True Lie that I bring drama like Schwarzeneggar
When a baby, I had other babies in labor catchin vapors
With two gats I move like too fast like Paxton
Ask Toni Braxton who got seven days of action
Black stars or moons eclipse the volume
Bang zoom I'm sendin honies on the moon with ten bags of boom
Ridiculously I will pimp an MC
To degrees I leave spots like chicken pox, check the synopsis
I grow confusing just like Rubik's cube boxes
Float like the butter, fly so what if I
Blow your lenses, tear the fuckin hinges
Did I mention that my lyrical format gets more ahs than a dentist
When I'm in this, the knotty-headed era causes terror
Y'all gimmick motherfuckers better get y'all shit together
One for the money and two for my peeps
Nynex can't even reach my technique or rap sheets
For the Squad I lick two shots word to God
Then take y'all dreams and imaginations
To the darkside

y'all motherfuckers buckle y'all motherfuckin seatbelts
If you need to get high there's a mask and shit in the overhead compartment
I can't tell y'all what the weather's like 'cause my radio's fucked up
And if we should experience any type of motor difficulty
Don't panic take one more hit off the oxygen mask
Calmly put your hands between your legs
And kiss your black ass goodbye!!

I'm swift like a motherfuckin gift for Christmas
When I send my vapors off like Halls menthalyptus
My verbs and nouns shatter walls of underground
Let me be blunt: I like crackin brews with bitches
The ninety-four era I cause terror, whatEVER
Rainin on you punks with the funk, so get your umbrellas
My guns cruise, tennis shoes, what's happenin
I got clapped on, now I'm the one doin the clappin
I'm Flexi Wit Da Tec like Artifacts make Memorex
blow tape decks when I'm more strapped than latex
Felt like menopause, I make niggaz act like beatches
Yo yo that nigga Red be frontin -- with they ass full of stitches
Woo! I just don't give a FUCK
I bite your whole nipple off, sick like sickle-cell anemia
Travel around my curse universe
I'm droppin 98.7 degrees down to Red Alert
Droppin the slang, I'll bust your brains with the real shit
Come hit my blunt so I can make y'all feel it
Abuse niggaz verbally so call Dyfus
I'm a warrior, to the heart, but I didn't kill Cyrus
Noorotic, my style format rocks the project
I get as ill as chief of police on narcotic
Give me a time and I'll free your mind and lick your
funky emotions, to blow your veins up with funk overdosing
Now who's that nigga that got your crew bellin?
Not with guns with funk when I rock tracks like Van Halen

I'm in the world, with Jacob's Ladder
I'm seein a lot of happy copycat rappers actin like they got asthma
They attackin me, they slowin they rhymes down actually
They got factories with little dolls named after me
But it's no question my funk segment leave the whole atmosphere
pressed-in, I take advantage of niggaz like I was molesterin
Newark New Jersey's what I represent
Iiiiiiiyiiiihhhhh
My brain be zoned and I phoned home to ET's home
and to hook me up with stash spots to put my chrome in
Whattup to Prince Street, Avon Ave I roll a spliff with
Fat to be passed through Bedrock and Diamond District
So what the fuck I got clapped on for my truck
Then I laughed cause fuck the cash I just wanted my tape bag
Fantastic fabulous my shit is fat shit
The bomb like Elway throw bombs on John Madden
Fuck that, let's get to the point, my shit's the joint, I roast
Motherfuckers from the East coast to the West coast to your breakfast
voltage, I got funk for days by the buckets
PPP packs a bunch of wild motherfuckers

Hold hold hold, wait wait wait
Let me school this bitch
Yo bitch my shit is tight, can any MC do this
*sounds of sex*
And come back on the mic?

I think not, my paper make pen leave nuff ink spots
On blocks where your punk ass still bustin off slingshots
Talkin shit about me when I'm drivin by slowly
Sayin I'm this and that when half y'all punks don't even know me
Now just for that I let your girl suck my dick from the back
and let your moms give me cornrows on my crack
Cause I'm nasty like that

Intro:

Aiyyo yo yo yo you better pass it
Aiyyo check this out
We coming to you live from that BOMB Chocolate City my man
Where the knotty headed niggaz and the Brick City brigade dwell
And if you don't know your fool better ask
Aiyyo yo you better pass that blunt
And yo E we comin to you live with the Cosmic type stuff

Verse One: Redman

Well it's that brother coming six billion feet from beneath
And you should be peep-in how I get smoked-out on the weekend
I swing it to my crew or down to my fans
Schoolin hell of stackas like final exams
Cause, it's the Funkadelic, hit you with the irrelevant
elements, and it's coming through your block
Can't you smell it trick?
want to copy-cat my whole format
So you get funk tracks, punch lines and skull hats
Hoooo! Got a little Redman in town
Who's that effin clown soundin wack with the frown??
I don't know man, but you better wonder what I would do
While loud on this staff like birds one and two
My crew runs thicka than syrup from the burrow
You get hurt up, word up, Jam-med like Pearl
Knock off from blood clot puff on the rough block
Or I peep my man, Rockafella, it don't stop

Chorus:

On and on, and it don't quit
Redman rockin on to the funky shit, c'mon
On and on, and it don't quit
Redman rockin on to the funky shit
I said Jersey's in the house Jersey's in the house
I said Brooklyn's in the house Brooklyn's in the house
I said Uptown's in the house Uptown's in the house
I said the Bronx in the hidouse The Bronx in the hidouse

Verse Two:

Newark, New Jersey, rock rock on, word is bond
I'm comin in swarms, so turn your flashlights on
Due to difficulty, my style flows while it tracrossed the planet
in 48 Hours like Nick Nolte
Droppin the flavor, stay Sky high like Pager
I'm magical like Fantasia on paper
I Saw the Light like Kraftwerk, of course
When the T-L-A Rock shock the stuff, It's Yours!
To your drawers, your record label got your staff gassed
Thinkin you gonna sell two mil cakes real fast
But you're blocked, and your earrings choke like a tec
Now, who freakin style your ass gonna steal next?
Are there any more imitators in the house?? There are no
Bust like NBA Jams, and you can have Chicago
Catch the cargo, funky like a bag of Bravos
Way back, with a pump 92 K-T-you in car loads
Huuh! I just stay funky like that
Make you want to (sssss) my style like a junkie on crack
Trick, you better back the freak up, for real now
When I break it down from Newark NJ to IllTown

Chorus:

On and on, and it don't quit
Redman rockin on to the funky shit, c'mon
On and on, and it don't quit
Redman rockin on to the funky shit
I said Virginia's in the house Virginia's in the house
I said Cali's in the house Cali's in the house
I said Atlanta's in the house Atlanta's in the house
North Carolina's in the house Carolina's in the house


Verse Three:

Yoo-hoo watch the birdie!! While Red wreck your brains early
If rap was be

Intro:

Aiyyo yo yo yo you better pass it
Aiyyo check this out
We coming to you live from that BOMB Chocolate City my man
Where the knotty headed niggaz and the Brick City brigade dwell
And if you don't know your fool better ask
Aiyyo yo you better pass that blunt
And yo E we comin to you live with the Cosmic type stuff

Verse One: Redman

Well it's that brother coming six billion feet from beneath
And you should be peep-in how I get smoked-out on the weekend
I swing it to my crew or down to my fans
Schoolin hell of stackas like final exams
Cause, it's the Funkadelic, hit you with the irrelevant
elements, and it's coming through your block
Can't you smell it trick?
want to copy-cat my whole format
So you get funk tracks, punch lines and skull hats
Hoooo! Got a little Redman in town
Who's that effin clown soundin wack with the frown??
I don't know man, but you better wonder what I would do
While loud on this staff like birds one and two
My crew runs thicka than syrup from the burrow
You get hurt up, word up, Jam-med like Pearl
Knock off from blood clot puff on the rough block
Or I peep my man, Rockafella, it don't stop

Chorus:

On and on, and it don't quit
Redman rockin on to the funky shit, c'mon
On and on, and it don't quit
Redman rockin on to the funky shit
I said Jersey's in the house Jersey's in the house
I said Brooklyn's in the house Brooklyn's in the house
I said Uptown's in the house Uptown's in the house
I said the Bronx in the hidouse The Bronx in the hidouse

Verse Two:

Newark, New Jersey, rock rock on, word is bond
I'm comin in swarms, so turn your flashlights on
Due to difficulty, my style flows while it tracrossed the planet
in 48 Hours like Nick Nolte
Droppin the flavor, stay Sky high like Pager
I'm magical like Fantasia on paper
I Saw the Light like Kraftwerk, of course
When the T-L-A Rock shock the stuff, It's Yours!
To your drawers, your record label got your staff gassed
Thinkin you gonna sell two mil cakes real fast
But you're blocked, and your earrings choke like a tec
Now, who freakin style your ass gonna steal next?
Are there any more imitators in the house?? There are no
Bust like NBA Jams, and you can have Chicago
Catch the cargo, funky like a bag of Bravos
Way back, with a pump 92 K-T-you in car loads
Huuh! I just stay funky like that
Make you want to (sssss) my style like a junkie on crack
Trick, you better back the freak up, for real now
When I break it down from Newark NJ to IllTown

Chorus:

On and on, and it don't quit
Redman rockin on to the funky shit, c'mon
On and on, and it don't quit
Redman rockin on to the funky shit
I said Virginia's in the house Virginia's in the house
I said Cali's in the house Cali's in the house
I said Atlanta's in the house Atlanta's in the house
North Carolina's in the house Carolina's in the house


Verse Three:

Yoo-hoo watch the birdie!! While Red wreck your brains early
If rap was be

Who wanna have a motherfuckin orgy?

Word is bond word is me

Smokin mad blunts and all the fronts and

Check it out whatcha want and

Go on with slang well get to bang rockin my thang

Funkadelic hit you with irrelevant heyyyy



Micraphone check I walk around the street with black Tecs and knapsacks

I'm known for smokin ass cracks til I get ass flashbacks

So all my niggaz if you're fuckin damage let me hear ya you can

*bo bo bo bo bo bo bo* now did you catch a victim? HELL NO

Come back in to fatten to funky tracks

Blast a motherfucker until you're peekin through his back

Cause my brain is twisted, funky realistic on the ill shit

I rock it til, bitches start givin up that punany

Pajamies, up the coochie, pass the clit, pass the loose shit

Then BOO-YAA, I gave you another shot of the good shit

Don't believe me why your pussy breathin hard enough to pinch

the clitoris, dangle it from my cock I don't feel shit

So check me the original Joe Pesky freak the sexy

I got more Gadgets than the Inspector, go-go jet-skis

Then swoop through your troops knock the boots on your cutes

Grab you for your loot, wrap my fuckin chain around your tooth

Cause, that's the way it goes when Tonight's Da Nite

The music feelin Funkadelic and the mood is right

I stick the nine between your eyes and blast you outta sight

Cause that's the way the knotty-headed nigga, rollin right

Blunts by the boxes, I smuggle the chocolate thai to get me high when

I ran through more niggaz, than any kid that was adopted

Plus an ostrich couldn't swallow my cock, quick cause it's stopped which

makes the Soopaman Luva get stockings by the flocks bitch, hrrrahhh

So on and on and let me kick the rab

That light skinned brother with mad shaft up your fuckin ass



You wanna see me get cool, the original rude bwoy, fuck with the new toys

Like pistols, I dismiss crews, so order some new boys

Blast the funky buddha's lockin ash up in my body

For Fozzy Patsi I bring Sad Days to niggaz constant...

..ly! Freak Funkadelic phrases cause I'm true school

I'm fuckin Madonna down to Smurfette down one down to M'bufu

Funks formatic, the fat shit, the wicked basket from caskets

Plus I'm rollin blunts with niggaz ashes

Smoke on the choke, light a toke until it's proper

I deserve an Oscar for pullin glocks out niggaz mouths cuz

I kill like that, plus I roll like that

I'm that guy with cerebral-palsy even Bo knows that

BUT FUCK THAT, we drop the new runner to get some ganja

Goin Uptown, we check Benny Red out, he pulls the smack out

Then roll up the bills-nilz, or better yet the pute

the loo-pay, rank near my nost to rock the block

Hittin niggaz upside the head with rocks in socks, glock on cock

Back, trigger-hap, P P P rockin that unity

Motherfucker! Yeah yeah motherfuckers, it's on it's on it's on



Throw your hands in the air, and wave em like you just don't care

And if you haven't been fucked, by the Soopaman Luva

Let me hear you say, oh yeahhyeah!

Oh yeahhyeah! Funkadelic, hit you with the irrelevant

facts and max, and on and on my crew pull gats

Flick slaps em back, come on and fuckin up tracks

Kick the mad wicked, bricks to stick it

Come on and, I get Wilson like Pickett then stick it

She wanna check me when I'm lickin your ass

And lickin ya down to your clitoris

Do you remember this, bitch, I know you're kinda hearin this

Style that I'm kickin, yes I'm mad wicked

Funkadelic, runs the mad train up your anus!

Baby, cause I'm famous!

Nope, I didn't mean that

The mean fat black fat tracks and old dreams at

I'm all teen strapped, sports a bean hat

Want to rhyme to be down, but homey ain't gonna bean that

Hahahahahahaaaaa
Watch out!
Geyeeah! As we take a journey to the darkside
Watch out!
From Hell and beyond the knotty headed nigga era has triumphed
Watch out!
A new ever! If you don't know your bitch ass better
Watch out!
Axe somebody! Shoot em up!

The Hurricane G is live and in color
Watch out!
We run you motherfuckers!
The Funk Doctor Spock coming live and in color
Watch out!
We run you motherfuckers!

Puffin mad spliffs, so fuck a bitch
And a nigga, cause niggaz, and bitches ain't shit!
Hahahahahahaaaa! Dr. Trevis
Watch out!
Is in the motherfuckin' house
With a couple of sick patients for your bitch ass
Watch out!
Yeah!


The Hurricane G is the ultimate funk, pop the trunk
(Hoo-hah!! Wild like Shaolin monks)
Representin', comin' out of Brooklyn, Flatbush
You wuss, you can't push push in the bush

Well uh, let's take a journey to hell and beyond
Where the bomb grows on palms, and bags labelled Cheech and Chong
The Jimi Hendrix of rap, I got an afro and bandanna
Then I rock jams like Santana
I move MC's like niggaz move keys uptown
Red and Hurricane G, so how you like us now?!

[Chorus: Repeat 4X]

Watch out! We run New York
Yeah

(Hurricane G hit em one time)
From the Brook, taught how to trick by the real gangsta crooks
So I holds back what you took!
I take my funk and my religion serious
Sanctify y'all and leave y'all house niggaz delirious
(hahahahaa) cause I'm furious!

How dare you motherfuckers, forget about the ultimate
Funk, bitttccchh nigga!
I got your wicked witch with a switch
Motherfucker, fuck you and your crew!
So what nigga, is it you want to do?
In ninety-fo' I kick the wicked for the bitches
For the real trick deez who can dig it
Cause after pop thought all that, Hurricane stay fat

Word to mom, big dick boricuas in the back
The queen of the East coast, funk gangsta pack buddha
on the rhyme since eighty-nine
It's all in your mind, but what's yours is mine
Your dough and your hoes Bump N Grind to my rhymes
Now! It ain't a nigga who could hang
or pop yang, about a motherfuckin' th-a-a-a-ang
And uh, fuck any bitch who can't hang
I'm representin' bitches universal!

It go, one for the biz, on the bizness
Which y'all blesses with God's blessings, do you see?
Hurricane and Redman original steel
Latin Queens in the house!!
So nigga swing it over here on these big fat tits!!
(Titties, hahahahahaa)

The Funk Doctor Spock, blast up on your block
I'm walkin' through the sewer with manure on my socks
Your style, I freaked it when I was a child
So you talkin' that baby talk like, Who's Talkin Now?
Verbally I crush, brains erupt
Blow your focus, like you sniffin' angel dust
Run of the mill I'm not, watch me kill a cock-sucker
And cause ruckus, like them L.O.D. motherfuckers

Every verse, every word I preach
Represents the East, long as the human eyes can see
Gimme that funk funk funk funk funk funk funk funk beat!
I light a blunt for niggaz up in Sing-Sing
I do it to death, style is funk that's fresh
Remove your vest, you just won the wet t-shirt contest
And I'm hotter, than the Globetrotters in the Bahamas
I got a pair of pajamas made out of ganjah and almonds and I'm as
Eager, as nigga wantin' my shit to dub
Cause my shit be bangin' like the Crips and Bloods
Troop, I flew the coop like Big Bird in Timb boots
I Skywalk the planet like my code name was Luke
From the darkside, I'm from the darkside Pah
I'm Above the Law like Steven Segall
Motherfucker!!

Watch out!
Hahahaha, we take you to the darkside
Come travel
Watch out!
On our metaphoric futuristic type shit
As we blow your brains like spliffs
Watch out!
Dr. Trevis is outta here
For the nine-fo' you stank... bitch
Watch out!
Yeahh
Watch out!

The hype's got me, I knock 'em out the box then out socks
'Cause winicumuhround, niggaz skate like the rocks
My block's hot, so gimme all you got
When I'm done rockin', I leave you all doin' the Bus Stop

My format spins wheels like Pat Sajak
I rub niggaz out like Ajax now hit the playback
Rrrwwhwoaah, look out, roast 'em like cookouts
I'm smoked out, all you MC's, pull your books out

Word is bond it's on I get at Dawn like Marvin Gaye
Starvin' since the days of Kindergarten
When I dye my ashes, flip my coffin backwards
Blow shit up like the 4th of July, with half sticks

And on and on, to the break of Rae-Dawn Chong
I'm 'Killin' You Softly' with this song, with this bomb
I'm like the Bronx 'cause I Boogie Down
I'm representin' Jersey motherfucker, winicumuhround

Winicumuhround, homeboy watch yo nugget
(Aiyyo, yo, yo Redman, yo that was last album)
Aiyyo fuck it, bust it
The top, notch, look over your sess spots
Get dumb like a whole bag of jumps with red tops

Burn more steam than carpet cleaners
I'm meaner then I'm iller than OJ, catchin' a misdemeanor
Boom-bash I set it off
(Right, right)
I shot up your lights while you caught up in the heights

My lyrics starvin', my crew runs like the mob
And the funk butter cup 'cause I'm a bastard at robbin'
I shake the valleys over Cali when I'm spliffed up
Rock a fifth up, that measure nine point oh on the Erichter

Are you tuned in to my tunes it's boom
Y'all niggaz couldn't see me if y'all had zoom
I'm accurate like Acura, my style's ninety years maximum
Fuel-injected like a Maxima, wheni'muharound motherfucker

The way I get wreck y'all niggaz call it mic check
I'm vexed and if I got an itchy finger like Bernard Geotz
With a pad and a pen I blend funky images
That leave your girl hemmoragin' for about two million
And three years move along there's nothing to see here
If I wasn't nice motherfucker, I wouldn't be here

Yeah, yeah, put metaphors inside a bracket
Def Squad's in the house and motherfucker we can back it
Come test your skills for real with a bomb bang, boom bang
The sound makes your brains wet
With 'The Color Purple' on a freight train

The devil's the conductor
Then take a trip to the darkside motherfuckers
My funky pattern takes interludes around Saturn
I'm more diesel than evil, meant evil like Sebastian

Don't try this at home kids, I zone with ET's
And other alien type of MC's
So throw your shit up in the sky
'Cause Redman's about to get live, like one-two-five

I smoke 'High Times' magazines when I lounge
And broken mics and cords is left
Winicumuhround motherfucker

Intro:
Eeeyeahh

Wuditlooklike to all you trick bitches
and you punk ass niggaz out there
I'm talkin to you live from WFDS
It's about two thousand degrees down this motherfucker
We're From the DarkSide radio
But the funk just don't stop
As we take y'all fat roly poly asses on another journey
To the darkside...

Verse One:

Wuditlooklike? When I wipe off my sweat
Verbally I'm Untouchable like Elliot Ness
To the best of my ability I rock any facility
And fuck the yellow cabs I smoke buddha out deliveries
I'm just as high as the fuckin friendly skies
Cause the buddha I smoke, is no joke, when I'm loc'ed
When I'm, open, you can't even see my chinky eyes
Then I wet it, then you be like -- that shit be soaked!!
and Two Black Guys when I get busy like the L.I.
I'm saggin my.... Karl Kani...
Well I, swing it back and forth like a leaf
But I can pass niggaz straight out of first-class
Without traffic I flow like the B.Q.E.
PPP, got the glocks and techs
Then leave em huffin and puffin like first day at Lemans class

Chorus: repeat 4X
And Def Squad always got some fly shit on deck

I said wuditlooklike (wuditlooklike)
Wuditlooklike (wuditlooklike)


Verse Two:
A-hem...
The Funk Doctor Spock blow the watt through your box
I come hotter than Treach, you bet about callin the cops


Because (this type of funk you don't hear on the regular)
Rock six seven eight nine ten (to eleven ta)
Knew my style got more powers than Cocoon
Zoom your focus, I drop the mic and leave it smokin
When I'm vexed, my concepts Wreck like Effect
I'm robbin your brains with antilogical, phenomical
Verbal communications blow to the next ep
Suicidal with lethal type funk spread your nodules
Straight up the weight up plus I max like a Beta
Boy I fuck your head up like a blunt that's laced up
The boogie verbalist, vocalist
I get open with, puttin scannings on the fake soloist
My style reachin down like Ike, switch up like dykes and
You'll be tellin your psychologist wuditlooklike
Chorus

Verse Three:


Wuditlooklike suckers, punk motherfuckers
Bitches be actin funny, don't wanna show me no love 'cause
They think I'm crazy and like mentally sick
Ahhh, give em the dick then they quiver like fish, then I
Smoke a pound of herb a day, and yo
Some bitches say, I'm the Mack like Maceo
I don't be that I just beez the funk disease
The funkindominal, I bring drama to any rendezvous
Rock three-sixty-five, twenty-four, Monday through
that leave MC's, recognizing like Sam Sneed
That other shit, makes them other ship, flip
funk ridiculous, inconspicous with lyrics
A-uhhm, oh-seven-one-oh-three's where I from
Been gettin dumb, every since Harlem World used to jump
I bust off the glock for the hood and the block
Chorus And that's for all them hardrock niggaz that's comin in flocks

Oh my god...Oh my god !!!! ah ah ah aowww!!!

Microphone checka, swingin sword lecture
closin down the sectar supreme neck protector
Bet I won em kid Mr. Metha warmin pot
about to blow his lid from the pressure, too hot for TV
but cheesy, Too many wanna be hard be easy, is all in together
going all not together it don't take much to please me
Still homes are never satisfy like the stones
we don't condome bitin in the sellin crossbones
protectin what am writin don't clash with the Titan
who blast with a liscence to kill rap presitence
C'mon, in the zone with ya nigga from the Group Home
TICAL!!(Fuck your lifestyle!!) (Blew wind)...put your lights out
got the shit the crackin got you fienin with your pipes out
time for some action, surfin the avenue
mad at you, where I used to battle crews
back when Antoinette had that attitude
Cover me I'm going in, walls closin in
got us bustin off these pistols
my niggas got issues...again, same song
armed with the mega bomb
Blow you out the frame and I'm gone.

I was going to Buck-we-romes, cellular phones
Doc-Meth back in the flesh, blood and bone
don't condone Spent bank loans and homegrown
suckers break like Turbo
in no zone, when I, grab the broom
moon-walk platoon hawk my goons spark
leave you in a blue lagoon lost (true)
three nines and a glove with masu di die in the car
right behind on the boss
Haters don't touch, weigh us both up
now my neighbor doped up
got the cable hooked up. All channels
lift my shirt all Mammal
you ship off keys and we ship Grand Pianos.
sawed of shotgun
hand on the pump, sippin on a forty
puffin on a blunt
bust my gun and Red and Meth gettin jumped
La la la la, la la la laaaaa

yeah c'mon, Red and Meth gettin jumped
La la la la, la la la laaaaaa