Yo, yo, Redman, man, what
the fuck, man
Get the fuck off that,
punk smooth shit, man
Get with that rough shit, man,
you know how we do
Mic check,
I walk around the streets with a black TEC-9
By the waistline, kickin' the hype shit
I never claimed to be the best
type of rapper
But have to show them motherfuckers
what I'm after
I'm after the gold,
then after that, the platinum
Beef after that,
Hurricane G packs the gat, son
Trigger, bang, bang, yo, bust the slang,
what my name?
It's the Redman on the funk thing
Psych, you're motherfuckin' right,
tonight's the night
To do what I wanna do,
to do it like dynamite
Then we'll perfect it when the
funk been injected
I roughen up the rough draft
to like make your head split
Punk, pass the forty and
the blunt and don't front
On the block, 'cause when you do front,
brothers are gettin' stomped
I'm not an addict,
more like puff than magic
Then pass it when I'm through
'cause my crew
(Gots to have it)
I don't claim to be a big rap star
'Cause no matter who you are,
you'll still catch a bullet scar
So listen up and take heed to
what I'm sayin'
'Cause tonight's the night and
me and my niggas ain't playin'
Fat black bitch, nasty
Bush bear,
booger breath, bitch
Nasty, talk to your tits,
bitch
With them nasty Africans,
Mr. Bojangles
Turned up shoes havin' ass
Lemming leprechaun haircut,
motherfucker
You wanna see me get cool, please,
save it for the breeze
'Cause the lyrics and tracks,
make me funky like cottage cheese
Fuck the smooth shit,
I get down wit the boom bip
Like Q-Tip, I I kick more styles
than Bruce shoes kick
But tonight's the night
what I write tonight
This type of funk with the flavor
like Mike 'n' Ike's
Hanging out wit my niggas, my niggas
The Pack Pistol Posse keep they
fingers on the triggers
I keep the forty between my lap, coolin',
rollin' down the highway
Blunt system pumps
'cause it's Friday
Roll over to pick my boys up,
we raise a lot of noise
'Cause, we can do that, black,
so "Get the Bozack," Jack
Re member,
I do the type of evil that men do
Like cursin' out my window at
a bitch and her friend too
So turn the volume up a notch
And watch the ba-bump, ba-bump,
make make make ya speakers pop
That's the funk,
when it pumps it makes your rump
Jump, jump, jump, jump, jump, jump
But if you want to see a fly
but frantic
Cool romantic, more slicker than my man,
Rick
You better check the Yellow Pages
under smooth shit
'Cause Red ain't down
for the bullshit
Niggas fucked up by letting
me make an album
(Howcome, rude boy?)
To get on the mic and let my
fuckin' style run
Nasty fuckin' greenthumb Jolly Green niggas
B-b-b-black by by by by popular demand,
I ex pand
My hand to the mic and let my
mouth kick the flim flam
I get sex, I get wreck, I puff mad blunts
I get vexed, I break necks, punch
out gold fronts, chump
You
Yo, fuck that, yo, turn this shit off,