Funkoars, Hunter - Still Drunk lyrics

"Funkoars" "Drunk motherfuckers"
"Drunk motherfuckers
"Funkoars" "Drunk motherfuckers"
"Drunk-drunk motherfuckers"
"Funkoars" "Drunk motherfuckers"
"Drunk motherfuckers
"Funkoars" "Drunk motherfuckers"
"Drunk-drunk motherfuckers"

Up the creek without a paddle
But we got Funkoars
Where's my beer? Cunt we drunk yours!
Sons of wars, I'm breaking tons of laws
It's fucking Hunts of course putting
Runs on the board
Like Langer at a test match
I'm taking the best catch
I check out the face, the tit's
And then snatch i always wear a rubber so
The eggs don't hatch
I needed some funk and Oar's had a new batch
I scored well for it and got amphetimized
Then crossed the Nullarbor to
Hang with Certified Wise
Losing sanity on a thirty hour drive
Hip hop's the only reason
That I'm still alive

I'm that dude in the back of the club
Slashed like fuck
With my head nearly touching my gut
Throwing shit up it's the Oars of funk and
We just started getting drunk
Blowing chunks
Hooded up like a Gregorian Monk
The Funkorian's buff so keep rubbing
If you're feeling me
Mr T, fat enough to claim a disability
Ain't a cat alive dumb enough to test us
I serve you the two round
Two through John Edwards
My style is wrecking mics and stylists
My rhyme moves the hearts of
Tarts like Saconian diamonds
These tracks turn heads like
Linda Blair naked
I say a lot of dumb shit but
Never try to take it back
Like a face lift, mistaken if you fake it
Face it
We rock the place like sumo weigh ins
We rock spots like chicken pox and savages
Massacres, breaking shit down
Like bad marriages

"Funkoars" "Drunk motherfuckers"
"Drunk motherfuckers
"Funkoars" "Drunk motherfuckers"
"Drunk-drunk motherfuckers"

"And what if Hons was one of us?"

Well there then we'd have a world full
Of perverts and verse plus beat precision
Hons will pull your car like
A fucking street magician
Think that's dope? Well here's the best part
Raps are that phat my punchlines
Develop fucking stretch marks
It's the Oars and Hunter
Full of drunk mother fuckers
Down the pints till we chunder
Sucker, we bust through and crush crews
The Funkoars get rotation like we
Released a bus loop
Sketchy Hons a certified trend setter
Never sell out 'cause underground
Groupies give head better
So make way for the mad sketchy cunt
I'm the type of guy that buys a
Sports car just to fuck a slut
I'll test your luck when I'm gripping a mic
And I ain't a fan of red
So paint your town certified

1234

Never brag, never had to
Never boast 'cause I know the show is
Over once we get off the stage
Between me and the bar and then
You best get out the way
After a bottle of Johnny couldn't stop me
Putting the barricade of hottie boddies in
Line until they told me whether
I rap here or Perth, Melbourne or Sydney
Never rap for the attention
I'm here to get her tipsy
See, I'm gonna need a hand in Canberra and I
Don't even want to be able to stand up
Drunk with drinks and they're
Gone and hell will
Have to fill me like a sober Funkoar
Don't aim when I piss but
I rap when I'm pissed
Slight laminated lyrics but I'm still
Able to rip it up you need a lesson in rap
I'll show you how Oars keep it raw
Only sell out here's the crowd