Funky Child (1993) (исполнитель: Lords Of The Underground)
The year is 1971 [bad word] the first of the children of Roton Lords of the underground witness the birth of the funky child Do it all hit 'em Born with the [bad word] from the womb of Brenda She now likes the Lords but she used to dig The Spinners First with the style from the birth canal And now I got the flav to make the crowd go wild So dig it, don't watch me kick it I'm taking no shorts unless this girl from my midget I packs the piece more than chicken packed grease I'm nearly knocking boots, but if not I'll knock teeth Wahh! Gaga, ooh cries the baby Smacked on the [bad word] now the Doitall's crazy No rattles or playpens, the crowds what I'm rapping And yes I do [bad word] as if this boy was happening Now January fourteenth has birthed the funk one The D-Day for Dupree and yes I'm funky I got you bobbing to the funky style K-Def let 'em know [bad word] the funky child Yeah, born in the underground of Newark Now witness the birth of Mr. Funkee The fifth of the terror, it's the return of Funky Kreuger A.K. Anger, but yo that's Mr. Funkee Wallbanger Conceived in the fire by you warned through disasters The funky child was taught to the ways of the masters Mr. Funkee, yes girl the black mack is back Here to kick my funky style, funky this and funky that You can work kid you know, you could practice all your life But I still take the show and then I go home with the wife Oh my God, funky with the style, Lord have mercy I hurdle over rappers just like Jackie Joyner-Kersee Watch me flip the script, let me show you what the funk do Make you call me uncle, what? Uncle, what? Uncle, who? When I was younger I used to sing with my sister Now I kick the ill styles you have to call me mister Cooling in my House of Hits, time to buck wild Raised in the ways of the funky child Funky child, funky, funky style Funky child, funky, funky style Funky child, funky, funky style Funky child, funky, funky style Funky child, funky child Funky child, funky child Back up baby, 'cuz [bad word] the schooler We're hit when we dry crawl and hit rock n' roller I'm caught in the swinging, hypnotized by the pendulum [bad word] , so this is how I'm killing them K is on the M.P., Jazz is on the Technique Marley's on the mix and now the Lords have a hit like pow Now it's time to get buck wild And watch my funky brothers freak the underground In a second, or minute, in no times flat Bring it back And go grab the album to bring the Lords money Take it home to mom to say, ain't they funky? We gone psycho and everybody thought they did was styles They didn't affect me, I said, "So what?", I kept on writing rhymes I keep my funky style perfected so no one can stop my flow I fear no man, 'cuz if it's on fool, then it's on, and it's on Don't worry not for other crews selling out As long as Lords of the underground stay underground The brothers of Lotug will keep the lyrical fitness Don't worry about me selling out, mind your business You might say [bad word] Mr. Funkee's throwing out But if you listen to the words then you'll know what I'm about Any props you receive are the props that you earn I'm off till the funky child returns