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Redman - Bobyahed2dis lyrics
Jeff Stewart] And I say... right about now you are rockin with the best! Can I get a hit? *inhale* *coughing* Thank you *coughing* What you're about to experience is a walk on the Funkadelic side Who knows better than the Funkadelic devil himself To all knotty head niggaz bob to this Come walk with Def Squad on the darkside Coming to you live and direct without further adieu I bring to you Redman one more time This is Jeff Stewart and you know how I do it... god DAYAM!!! [Redman] So who's that funky nigga that's known to kick the fat shit? The mirror said "You are, you conceited bastard" *cutting and scratching of bastard* Done by the dogcatcher, dogcatcher, it's the dogfetcher, I betcha Aahhhhhhhhhhh, with the slang Get you coughed up from the weed it'll bust your brain The top notch of hip-hop and I'm on the charts I'm catchin applause when I rock the micraphone from the heart My style's foul, so look into the eyes of Lorimars As you can see, I drop funk bars from here to Mars Still rollin down the highway wit my forty between my lap bitch Crossin DTW, coming into my lap and Boy my skills are stacks, I love to do it from the back My style swarms over ghettoes like crack Blow in any hood and puff a blunt with any nigga As long as we both got, it don't matter who's gun bigger But I bet you you can't do that, cause the multiplatinums can't save your ass on the block, and you're fucked if it ain't pop The funk is blowin wattage out your fuckin trunks Like peak Puma, I known to give a whole lots of lumps Props I got, coming through your block nine cocked My socks, even got three-eighty-nine shots Don't press it, I hang em like them niggaz do in Texas You don't have no heart you chestless, cuz your heart's on my necklace I give props to real MC's like KRS-One Kool G Rap, Buckshot, Busta me and I'm from The East coast!! Where a nigga like you get that fat? And since you came out gassed, well I'm closin your gas cap The creature, from the deeper, ultimate funk freaker Represent New Jersey, keep your eyes up on the bleacher A menace like Dennis, I got game like Ennis I can french-kiss my lyrics, then I run trains with sentence Lord have mercy! It's too much funk to cope with Droppin dope shit after dope shit, we're atrocious That's from the lungs, that rings from here to kingdom come And I don't have to be a Special Ed to get dumb |
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