Lyrics
Before I start this jam
Hold up, let me tell you who I am
I’m Mr. Funkee
AKA The Motherfucking Man
That’s right the man
Girlfriend got her knocked up
Big money clocker, Chief Rocka, boot knocker
MC’s are on their knees, MC’s I’m locking 'em in my trunk and
The Funk is no punk and I kick Donuts like Dunkin'
People scream «Oooh aah» because what the Lords did
I’m liver than 355 newborn kids
Then somebody tests me, there’s guaranteed a trial
They gotta burn like the to be half as good as I am
So bottom line look out for and try to test me and
Funkee Man will walk all over your ass like a pedestrian
Not the type of kid that you get over on brother
You talk about me? I talk about your mother
No need to sweat a record, Funkee Man packs mad skills
I got a book of rhymes that stretch from here to the Catskill’s
I guess you thought you scared me with your ass like hokey spooky
You need to get a Pamper, cause the stuff you wrote was dookie
I know that when you wanted to touch the vital part
As soon as you open your mouth your breath starts stinking
Sorry you’ve been had, see my style is simply mad
If rap was parenthood, you might have to call me dad
Or grandpop, my is crazy long and I’m
Hoping to make you part of this cause yo you ain’t that fly
Mad skills, mad skills
Yeah you know we got 'em
Mad skills, mad skills
Yep, yep we got 'em
Oh my God, or my Lord
One stomp, two stomp
Chomp, chomp, chomp that’s how I eat my comp'
DoItAll has got style so dig it, dig it
(DoItAll, DoItAll!)
What?
(Go 'head and kick it!)
I am what I am so I guess I’m just flam
And slam like lightening so I say «Shazam»
I’m different
So don’t compare me to another
But call an undertaker cause I’m burying motherfuckers
At hype shows, the beat rose from Check It to Psycho
You might wanna turn your head before I tug my nuts low
Last kid who stepped up, got strangled with the mic cord
(Haha, straighten that ass out like an ironing board)
Noooow, no no no, I’m not with the bullshit
DoItAll and Funkee Man come equipped
With the tech of my nine and nine mil' clip
But not from the barrel it’s straight from the lips
So back up brother
My tongue is blasting
I’ll eat that ass today and tomorrow I’m fasting
MC’s can not see this, I’m like a chameleon
On a scale to one to ten I’m like a nine (million!)
They told you I was nice then they didn’t tell no lies
I’m better with the mic than your grandma is with pies
Just hand me the mic, it’s guaranteed that I will rock it
I got so many skills that they’re falling out my pocket
If stepping to us is wrong then I don’t know what y’all be thinking
They call me Mr. Funkee Man but you’re the one who’s stinking
Then talk behind our back like you’re better than somebody
But yo man when I catch you, I hope you know karate
Or Tae Kwon Do or Judo
Kick boxing or Jujitsu
You better learn something quick cause Funkee’s coming to get you
I swan kick Bruce Lee and slam Lex Luger
MC’s are scared of me so they should call me Funkee Kruger
Noooow I’m the rapper assuming to give them daily allowances
If rap was body weight you’d weigh like two pounds, three ounces
What ya needed?
I’m undefeated
What you expect?
So many titles under my belt I gotta wear it on my neck