I get mad wicked (fuck around) and catch a bad one by the funker

I puff the mad spliffs and roll blunts with archie bunker

Cause my brain is twisted, so i cock the biscuit

Cause shit's thick, some say i'ma bastard of a swift bitch

Negro, funkin it with the style in your ear bro

To make you _fear_ me like _cape_ without robert deniro

You big pussy, so funky that you have to douche me

You can't hear me then my record label didn't push me

I know i'm sayin fuck too many times in my rhymes

But if i wasn't bad, i wouldn't freak it in the line

But it don't seems to matter cause my shit get fatter and fatter

I'll do the funk in your face and it slaps ya

How does it feel with the face full of funk

With the bass in your trunk, weed laced with the blunt

I puff, i never got snuffed, bust while i dust your monkey

Ass off then i just crush on the hush hush

So if you want a taste of the funk from the gutter

Ask the brothers (why?) cause i'm bad (word to mothers)



"i'm a bad.." "yo word to the mother" (3x)

"i'm a bad.." "bad bad, and a wicked in bed"

"i'm a bad.." "yo word to the mother" (3x)

"i'm a bad.." "bad bad, and a wicked in bed"



Yo yo, check this out

This is for y'all hokey-pokey punk pussy motherfuckers

Just to show y'all i do what the fuck i wanna do

I want y'all to check this on the real

And yo, check this out



[fast bass beat drops in]

Shake it! c'mon shake it! c'mon shake it! c'mon shake it!

Whassup now? whassup now? whassup now? whassup now?

Whattup now? hahahahah



(yo red, c'mon, get back to the track man, i wanna get out of here!)



Yo kid chill, aight aight check it out

Flexy i'm sexy when i'm standin in my drawers

If you can't check me when i'm rappin, put the tape on pause

And listen to the incredible shit that i kick my man

Give me five on the backhand then stick

Your finger in a hole and chop the stick quick

Cause my lip get to the point, to still rock the fly shit

Since you're holding your breath, i hold my jewels

I swing hardcore, so i walk, holdin my tools

The original p-funk, takes no junk, from a chump, or punk g

I been this way every since nine months

So get down while i rip the raps from my lips cause

My shit's more deep, than any tape from enigma

The gettin nice, thinkin killer brother who pop trash

Basic instinct -- i'm a shoot us and they got blasted

Much ass i kick, groove to the master mix

My song still pumps when it's not even mastered, bitch!

My shit's very chronic so rewind it

Cause it's like.. eh-eh-eh-eh beyond, bionic!

Cause i'm a wild and crazy guy! no lie!

Last brother to battle me i started pissin in his eye

I'm bad, word to mother to the motherfuckin hubbard

Eatin her curds and whey, puffin spliffs cause she doesn't

And if you still don't under-fuckin-stand where i'm comin from

Listen to my nine, understand where it's hummin from!



"i'm a bad.." "yo word to the mother" (3x)

"i'm a bad.." "bad bad, and a wicked in bed"

"i'm a bad.." "yo word to the mother" (3x)

"i'm a bad.." "bad bad, and a wicked in bed"


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