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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Anthony Kiedis
Vocals
Chad Smith
Drums
Flea
Bass
John Frusciante
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Anthony Kiedis
Songwriter
Chad Smith
Songwriter
Flea
Songwriter
John Frusciante
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Brendan O'Brien
Mixing Engineer
Rick Rubin
Producer
Howie Weinberg
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
A wanna be gangster thinking he's a wise guy
Rob another bank, he's a sock 'em in the eye guy
Tank head, Mr. Bonnie and Clyde guy
Look him in the eye, he's not my kinda guy
Never wanna be confusion proof
Pudding's sweet but too aloof
Orange eye girl with a backslide dew said
"Yo, homie who you talking to?"
A backed up paddywagon macking on a cat's ass
One uppercut to the cold upper middle class
Born to storm on boredom's face
And a little lust to the funky ass Flea bass
Most in the race just lose their grace
The blackest hole in all of space
Crooked as a hooker, now suck my thumb
Anybody wanna come get some?
[Chorus]
If you have to ask
You'll never know
Funky motherfucker
Will not be told to go
If you have to ask
You'll never know
Funky motherfucker
Will not be told to go
[Verse 2]
Don't ask me why I'm flying so high
Mr. Bubble meets superfly in my third eye
Searching for a soul bride, she's my freakette
Soak it up inside deeper than a secret
Much more than meets the eye
To the funk, I fall into my new ride
My hand, my hand
Magic on the one is a medicine man
Thinking of a few taboos that I ought to kill
Dancing on their face like a stage in Vaudeville
I feel so good, can't be understood
Booty of a hoodlum rocking my red hood
[Chorus]
If you have to ask
You'll never know
Funky motherfucker
Will not be told to go
If you have to ask
You'll never know
Funky motherfucker
Will not be told to go
Written by: Anthony Kiedis, Chad Smith, Flea, John Frusciante