So you wanna be hardcore
With your hat to the back, talkin bout the gats in your raps
But I can't feel that hardcore appeal
that you're screamin, baby I'm dreamin
This ain't Christopher Williams, still some
MC's got to feel one, caps I got to peel some
To let niggaz know... that if you [bad word] with Big-and-Heavy
I get up in that [bad word] like a wedgie
Says who? Says me, the lyrical
Niggaz sayin, "Biggie off the street, it's a miracle"
Left the [bad word] alone, took the thugs along with me
Just for niggaz actin shifty
Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat'll kill you quicker
Especially when I'm [bad word] off the liquor
Smokin funk by the boxes, packin glocks is
natural to eat you niggaz like chocolates
The funk baby
 [bad word] (repeats 8X)]

"I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk" (LOTUG, Chief Rocka)

[Verse Two:]

All I want is [bad word]  big booty [bad word] Used to sell crack, so I could stack my riches
Now I pack gats, to stop all the snitches
from stayin in my business, what is this? Relentless
approach, to know if I'm broke or not
Just cause I joke and smoke a lot
Don't mean I don't tote the glock
Sixteen shots for my niggaz in the pen
Until we [bad word] meet again
Huh, I'm doin rhymes now, [bad word] the crimes [bad word] on the ave, I'm real hard to find now
Cause I'm knee deep in the beats
In the Land [bad word] Jeep with the Mac-10 by the seats
For the jackers, the jealous [bad word] crackers in the (car sirens)
I'll make you prove that it's bulletproof
Hold ya head, cause when you hit the bricks
I got gin, mad blunts, and [bad word] suckin [bad word] The funk baby

[Repeat [bad word] 

[Verse Three:]

So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side
How I smoked funk, smacked [bad word] on the backside
Bed-Stuy, the place where my head rests
Fifty shot clip if a [bad word] wan' test
The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya
High as a [bad word] helicopter
That's why I pack a nina, [bad word] a misdeameanor
Beatin [bad word] like Ike beat Tina
(What's Love, Got to Do)
when I'm rippin all through your whole crew
Strapped like bamboo, but I don't sling guns
I got bags of funk, and it's sellin by the tons
Niggaz wanna know, how I live the mack life
Making money smoking mics like crack pipes
It's type simple and plain to maintain
I add a little funk to the brain
The funk baby