The Beatnuts - Get Funky II lyrics

Eh, say what? How you going to enjoy good
Music without good marihuana?)

No doubt

The World F

3CF Mob kid

It's the crook with the shit
Look on your turntable
Amped like a fuse to burn
Down your whole label
Now niggas wanna do me in but aren't able
Stressin themselves out while I remain stable
Freak flows let opponents know
That I combat with gats to delete my foes
Gots to get money kid you know how it goes
And I'm still livin foul
Even stickin up hoes

Beatnuts comin at you with that filthy skunk
Ain't another brother kickin fat
Beats with spunk
Duck tried to test me, who could the best be?
Psycho make you Dizzy Gillespie
Spin that ass like a DJ table
Forth and back, spark a Phil', then mack
Black whether or it's all good
I know you wish you could

Get funky one time for your mind, oh yeah
Throw your hands in the air
Like you just don't care
Wave em round and round
To the front and back
World Famous in the house
Catch a heart attack

Catch a heart attack, muthafucka
Push the button
Cause you've fallen and you can't get
Up all of a sudden
You're stuck on the floor, hip-hop crazy raw
While you niggas be singin that bullshit

You got the blues, the Kool is your saviour
Down to daze ya, but the Nuts wanna blaze ya
Raise ya
Give you junk that juice that was major
Come on comin' from the soul
The heart is the funk spot
Diggin' through shit that I found
Out in the park lot
Talk not, bustin' crazy shots at the dome
Squeeze ju come down, spray these
Niggas with that funk, please

Somebody said you was looking for static G
Those who try to play me
Close could die tragically
I got a merciless flow that's emphatically
Fatal, it attacks the brain automatically
Unleasing lyrical wrath to leave you open
Crews that choose to bite
Might find yourself soakin
Dirty and low, yo fuck what the pope says
I'm tryin' to get money like Felipe Lopez

So what's that fat shit you be freakin to?
Hey yo
Who the fuck you think that we be speakin to?
Keepin you open like a suitcase
Now you taste the Psycho fuckin
Bass in your face

With a 1-2-3, the 3, the 2-1
Only type preacher could eat his nun
Hun, sit on the wood as the drum
Trips, causin turbulence on your dumb
Tit's, act like you recognize daddy
Run papi chu, get what you never had, he
Roll a fattie, backseat of a Caddy
Cause it's all good
I know you wish you could

Brothers and sisters, check the Nuts status
Kool not the baddest but at
Time rhyme the fattest
Maddest anger on the remix
Re-fix kicks, got your number one picks
Chicks want the licks cause of the facial
You're interracial, no matter, I'ma date yo
Hit your fuckin neck with that shit we drop
Beatnuts turn it out and you don't
Don't stop like that

Like that, tha-tha-tha-that
Fuck go off the top, let's go off the bat
The Junkyard nigga represent if you want me
Scream one time, a-get funky