Lyrics
Yeah man, I wanna
I wanna make a nigga toast, man
A nigga toast to what
Ya always have it poppin'
You know what am sayin'
Always, nigga
Err, well good morning
Welcome to the brand new world today
Err, tonight we got in a special studio
All the way from America all the way from Pomona
All the way from the States you know
Ahh, his name is Kokane
But sometimes this, ah
I’m listening to this tape
And it seems to be something like different
It seems, it seems like you actually found
A, a, a formula for doing funk, you know
Not just assembling, you know
Ah, ah, explain more about that
What do you think about that Kokane
Funk
The final frontier
These are the voices from the underground
Funkin' 'em
I just want to ride upon the funk
And feel so free
So gutter up and ground in the host
In the cast of the rap comatose
For this is the chunk that you been waiting for
Funk
Fee fii funk
Don’t bite the funk that feeds ya cause we don’t need ya
Funk’em
Smoke’em
We are the ones
There is too many
There is no time
Funk 'em
Funk 'em
Funk 'em
It’s like dip dip dive, so so socialize
Welcome to the world of funk-ology
Say you say tom-ay-to and I say tom-ah-to
I like ass better than potato
Rollin with my gun, yo
The shit be kickin' it
Lickin' and hittin' from evil bitches
I’m all in them stitches
So swing down sweet chariot, stop
Let me ride upon the funk-a-style'ic funk
Well alright
I just want to ride upon the funk
And feel so free
This long term gift
Especially Kokane?
That is street niggas run in packs
Sorta like dogs
Searching for a bone
Would you die for the funk
Would you die for the funk in you
Yeah
Can you cope
Batter up
Ghetto nut
Ghetto nut
Rolling around with the black comatose
Artifical funk is not us
Artifical funk is not permitted in this realms
Of funk 'em sa?
Funk 'em
Funk 'em
Well alright ya’ll
Its like a
Givin' a funk where
When, err, yeah
Do you dear to test the clones of the bee’s wax in the city
Comin from the do wop shitty’s
Well alright ya’ll
So err, I can’t cope with no artificial lecture
But only want to kiss me on my vibe? catcher
So ahh, won’t you gutter up
And don’t, err, play high post?
Cause I dwell in the realm of the black comatose
Well alright
Aha
I toast the funk