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Yo Aladdin, make sure my microphone is on |
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No wait a minute - hm-hm, now let me check my tone |
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*Before I start rockin* Yo, what we're callin this homes? |
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*Ain't nothin goin on...* word |
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Well, if it ain't nothin but a funky song, I'm in it to win it |
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Properly fitted, so let's get with it |
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My lyrical format breaks and bends the rules |
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For those of you who wanna battle my crew |
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I come from the family down with Priority |
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Peace to N.W.A and Eazy-E |
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And to the homies everywhere that's down with Low Pro |
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Y'all want funk? Yo, yo, now here we go |
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Can I come on, or should I come off smooth and dope? |
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Spectacular to make a amateur choke |
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You see, it's gotta be funky, doper than the average funk song |
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That's why I didn't come off strong |
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I chose a laid back jack and watched the others swoop and holler |
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They try to kick funk, but yo, why did they bother |
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This is pure funk, so y'all sing along |
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*Ain't nothin goin on but a funky song* |
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Funk - the word for the day that I speak upon |
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It's like a drug, you could say that I'm sprung |
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Every time that I speak I pertain to a funky crowd |
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Turn up the radio, make sure that it's loud |
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The woofers are bumpin, the tweeders and tweetin, the bass is kickin' |
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Doub's about to start the rippin' |
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All these MC's sound alike screamin off of funky tracks |
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Got the nerve to put the garbage on wax |
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Artificial MC's, I break em with ease, they get dunked |
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They all lack the true meanin' of funk |
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A street hardcore sample with a positive tip |
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This here is so funky, all I need is a mothership |
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A pair of twelves and a mic in my hand, see |
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So I can get busy for those down with me |
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Have you yellin' my name while I pertain to the brain |
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Cause when it comes to funk, I'm leavin permanent stains |
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So change arrange and yo, I ain't a new jack, gee |
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Aladdin gave me the mic, so I could speak my piece |
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Funk, the universal language, now can you swing it? |
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Some tried, but came softer than a Danish |
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Dunkenhein rappers is soft, they can't compete |
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Now here's a dope record tooken out of the backstreets |
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Y'all know the words, so yo, sing along |
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*Ain't nothin goin on but a funky song* |
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So now we come to the final verse of the song |
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I came to short-circuit, so go and clap along |
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Wave your hands in the air while you shout and go off |
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But keep away from the stage, because you might get tossed |
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Yo, now here's somethin that I know that you like |
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Somethin funky, but yet though, it's gotta be hype |
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So sing along, even though when I'm gone |
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*Ain't nothin goin on...* |
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Peace |
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*...but a funky song* |
