Tom: Eb major
Verse 1
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Yeah so yo kid feel the funk
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I got the ultimate style
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You couldn't kick the butt
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Intelligent, high five, walk by, drive by
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007 couldn't see because I spy H -U -O,
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arm to the other side, beast to the far side
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Get my muck, get my muck,
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market tie -dye
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Logic, reason, I trick -or -treat in season
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And got your girl skeezin'
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Since you wanna post up and act bold
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you couldn't even catch a cold
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I pulled out the ace in the act
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They'll call me Nigo
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cause my knees ain't gross,
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And way in the water, hey little Walter Chillin' with the y 'all,
drinkin' six packs of Malta
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Compare Willy Wonka,
chocolate bar to buck
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I never get stuck, and still drive a truck
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But don't pressure luck, a sucker still suck
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I still like to chill on the hill
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To the rowdy staff
I give a arm and disappear
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Like a leprechaun on
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So when I drop the bomb,
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please be alone
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Because the sound'll break
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F#m
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your arm
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Yeah, so yo kid feel the funk
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Yeah, so yo kid feel the funk
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Yeah, so yo kid feel the funk
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Yeah, so yo kid feel the
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Chitty chitty bang bang,
who's sittin' on my fence?
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so I pitched him like a tent
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H had a gun,
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but he didn't have a trigger
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Buck drove a truck,
so I called him fuck nigga
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Reach into my pot, cause I'm hot,
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Go fruity for Pebble,
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a rebel from Brooklyn
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Yippee -ki -yay, motherfucker,
how's your day?
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I saw your last mate, tryin' to DJ
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At the club, rub -a -dub,
I rocked a Weblo
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It co -stuck a hole in
from G .A. to Bushwick
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Not hard, but I'm bussin' more shots
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than Bernie gets, yes
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The quicker picker -upper
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slams your ass in the gutter
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once was a hustler
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Modestized my muffler,
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now I'm comin' rougher
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This bitch flipped the script
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and she made me wanna buck her
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It's the Y -A -L -S -S -O
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Yes, I'm the nigga with the nappy red afro
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Straight from the ghetto
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to the east of the meadows
To my niggas in the streets,
I would like to say hello
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Not from the west,
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but you know my style is deft
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I'm passin' veggie to the left
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Yeah, so yo, kick, feel the bump
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Yeah, so yo, kick, feel the bump
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Yeah, so yo, kick,
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feel the bump
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F#m
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Ayo, Peter Peter Pan was
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the man on the can,
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having mad sex when he
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messed with the jams
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He couldn't get with H,
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cause the H had the foil,
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to wrap his ass up,
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leave him out and let him spoil you
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It's kinda vague when you beg to see,
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my name is Greg,
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but I'm A -A -A -A -A -N -I -C -E -E -N -I
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Toot on your stoop when
you group ass can I,
Return of the Jedi
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Step to the party when somebody else said I,
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somebody said I,
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I mean they said hi
if you got a dead eye
So back to the wickedness
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call your aunt Betty
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Best believe I rip another
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line through your lips
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when the picture goes click
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I'm hefty, hefty, hefty,
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you whippy, whippy, whippy
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And you ain't got no TV
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so you're misprinted stiffy
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Steady cause I'm ready, yo,
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You wanna web it, test punk, get a missile
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Me and the kids down the hall
got a group
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And rhymes go on and on
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Like a what? Like a loop!
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Like a what? Like a loop!
Somebody stop me,
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I'm wrinkling my soup!
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Yeah, so yo kids feel the funk!
Outro 1
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