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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Roy Ayers
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Lester Fernandez
Songwriter
Bertony Smalls
Songwriter
Jerry Tineo
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
The Beatnuts
Producer
Chris Curran
Assistant Recording Engineer
Kirk Yano
Recording Engineer
Michael Sarsfield
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Oh yeah
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
It's the crook with the shit look causin' mass danger
Torturing crews like Jews in gas chambers
The angel of death, street smart, lyric arranger
Complicated, my styles change, I get stranger
Freak flows, let opponents know
That I combat the stats and defeat the foes
Gots to get money, kid, you know how it goes
And I'm still livin' foul, even stickin' up hoes
Equipped with the Beatnuts funk
Ain't another brother kickin' phat beats with spunk
Duck tried to test me but his ass flunked
I rolled him in some bamboo and threw him in my trunk, punk
I told you once, and I won't tell you twice
I freak the stunts and I won't pay the price
For stickin' in her paradise, 'cause it's all good
I know you wish you could
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
I know you wish you could
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
Get
You got the blues, but the Kool is your savior
Down to just daze ya, Beatnuts wanna blaze ya
Raise ya, give you junky juice that was major (Aw yeah, and you don't stop)
Come on
Comin' from the soul, 'cause the heart is the funk spot
Diggin' through shit that I found out in the park lot
Talk not, bustin' crazy shots at the dome, squeeze
Ju come down, spray these **** with that funk, please
Somebody said you was looking for static, G
Those who try to play me close could die tragically
I got a merciless flow that's emphatically fatal
It attacks the brain automatically
Unleashing lyrical wrath to leave you open
Crews that choose to bite might find yourselves chokin'
Dirty and low, I never do what the Pope says
I'm tryna get money like Felipe Lopez
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
Get funky
With a one, two, three, a three, a two, one
Only type of twat a preacher could eat is nun
Hon, don't it sound sweet to the drum?
Drum trip, as I flip till it's done
Son, act like you recognize dad
Run to poppa, come get what you never had
I'm and ducks get mad 'cause it's all good (Superbad)
I know you wish you could
Get funky
We got you wanting more puff from the 'Nut
Go on, take a hit from my shit, but it's a rough one
Bust one, remember what they said, never trust one
Used to be two down in the crew, now it's plus one
I kick that old cool style, got ya fiendin'
Blowin' ya mind just like that red light beepin'
I'ma get buck and blast a shot in your eye
Make way motherfucks, it's the real superfly
Written by: Bertony Smalls, Jerry Tineo, Lester Fernandez