Tonight's Da Nite (Remix)

Who wanna have a motherfuckin' orgy?

Word is bond, word is me

Smokin' mad blunts, and all the fronts and

Check it out, whatcha want and

Go on with slang, well get to bang, rockin' my thang

Funkadelic, hit you with irrelevant, hey

Microphone check

I walk around the street with black Tecs and knapsacks

I'm known for smokin' ass-cracks till I get ass flashbacks

So all my **** if you're fuckin' damaged, let me hear ya, you go

Now did you catch a victim? (Hell no)

Come back into fatten to funky tracks

Blast a motherfucker until you're peekin' through his back

'Cause my brain is twisted, funky realistic on that ill shit

I rock it till bitches start givin' up that punany

Pajamies, up the coochie, pass the clit, pass the loose shit

Then booyah, I gave you another shot of the good shit

Don't believe me, why your pussy breathin' hard enough to pinch?

The clitoris, dangle it from my cock, I don't feel shit

So check me the original Joe Pesky, freak the sexy

I got more gadgets than the Inspector, go-go jet-skis

Then swoop through your troops, knock the boots on your cutes

Grab you for your loot, wrap my fuckin' chain around your tooth

'Cause that's the way it goes when Tonight's Da Nite

The music feelin' Funkadelic and the mood is right

I stick the nine between your eyes and blast you outta sight

'Cause that's the way the knotty-headed **** rollin' right

Blunts by the boxes, I smuggle the chocolate Thai to get me high when

I ran through more ****, than any kid that was adopted

Plus an ostrich couldn't swallow my cock, quick 'cause it's stopped which

Makes the Soopaman Luva get stockings by the flocks, bitch

So on and on and let me kick the rab

That light-skinned brother with mad shaft up your fuckin' ass

You wanna see me get cool

The original rude boy, fuck with the new toys

Like pistols, I dismiss crews, so order some new boys

Blast the funky Buddhas, lockin' ash up in my body

For Fozzy Patsi I bring Sad Days to **** constantly

Freak Funkadelic phrases 'cause I'm true school

I'm fuckin' Madonna down to Smurfette down one down to M'bufu

Funks formatic, the fat shit, the wicked basket from caskets

Plus I'm rollin' blunts with ****' ashes

Smoke on the choke, light a toke until it's proper

I deserve an Oscar for pullin' Glocks out **** mouths 'cause

I kill like that, plus I roll like that

I'm that guy with cerebral-palsy even Bo knows that

But fuck that, we drop the new runner to get some ganja

Goin' Uptown, we check Benny Red Out, he pulls the smack out

Then roll up the bill-nilz, or better yet the pute

The lupe, rank near my nost to rock the block

Hittin' **** upside the head with rocks in socks, Glock on cock

Back, trigger-hap, P-P-P rockin' that unity

Motherfucker, yeah, yeah, motherfuckers, it's on, it's on, it's on

Throw your hands in the air, and wave 'em like you just don't care

And if you haven't been fucked by the Soopaman Luva

Let me hear you say, oh yeah, yeah

Come on, oh yeah, yeah, funkadelic, hit you with the irrelevant

Facts and max, and on and on my crew pull gats

Flick slaps 'em back, come on and fuckin' up tracks

Kick the mad wicked, bricks to stick it

Come on and I get Wilson like Pickett then stick it

She wanna check me when I'm lickin' your ass

And lickin' ya down to your clitoris

Do you remember this, bitch? I know you're kinda hearin' this

Style that I'm kickin', yes, I'm mad wicked

Funkadelic, runs the mad train up your anus

Baby, 'cause I'm famous

Nope, I didn't mean that

The mean fat Black fat tracks and old dreams at

I'm all teen strapped, sports a bean hat

Want to rhyme to be down, but homie ain't gonna eat that