Lyrics:
to the streets
I'm already here so shut up, kid!
Turning heads
Everyone is around
Put your speakers on
There's new funky in the town
I bet this is something you've
them bugs by my bed
They still thinkin' that we coppin' sellin raw
Tryin' to put us through them Rico and them Rockefeller' laws
I'm in L.A. the top
exit the old style, enter's the new
But nothing's new 'bout being hawked by a crew
Or should I say flock cause around every block
There's Harry, Dick,
'em
I know y'all in the mood, just go with the flow
And I can play rappin records and all disco
Like "Beat It," "Billie Jean," by Michael Jackson
just doin' what I got to do
I'm not fuckin' with you
Because your funky ass cock is through
So now I gotta get some new hoes
Some old school bitches
was ridin' on the subway in the afternoon
I saw some kids 'a beatin' out a funky tune
The lady right in front of me was old and brown
The kids began
was ridin' on the subway in the afternoon
I saw some kids 'a beatin' out a funky tune
The lady right in front of me was old and brown
The kids began
and the gun in the store
and ignore temptation, sent by the nation
Racial gain causes pain; need a new rep
In your hearts and minds never forget Yusef
Hawkins
I set if off
By lettin' you know that I can flow to many beats
Similar to fluid, so freely
And you can say I'm gettin' kind of greedy, but so
I set if off
By lettin' you know that I can flow to many beats
Similar to fluid, so freely
And you can say I'm gettin' kind of greedy, but so
block dumpin' drive bys
Blowin' up your haugh now
And leavin' you trapped in the rumble
Fuckin' with us is just trouble
Now where it's goin' down?
in the mood, just go with the flow
And I can play rapping records and all disco
Like "Beat It," "Billie Jean," by Michael Jackson
Or the Treacherous
Cut to the mall copped a brand new pair of Timberlands
Then dipped down a one way trying to scoop up Double K
And chill with my people on this bright
Barely knows her name, struck by fame
She just got a Benz, she rides with her friends
Gotta keep her beeper in her purse to make ends
Rollin' down
[Pete Rock] To all my Bronx niggaz (Yeah!)
"And I say right about now get ready to get down
to the funky sound of the man they call"
"Pete Rock" "and
With an alternative hippie kid from the record label watchin your back
Talkin about, "Mariah Carey's funky,"
Makin the average group buckdance like
let put the boom back in it
To show the Joneses can win it, and that's my crew
That's my clan, that's my posse
The niggaz with the funky tunes, turn
run, duckin' the shotgun
leavin' 'em up off my block stunned
One eighty seven lesson and we done told ya
you fuckin' with Bone you better believe
and the gun in the store
and ignore temptation, sent by the nation
Racial gain causes pain; need a new rep
In your hearts and minds never forget Yusef
Hawkins
comin', radio or not
It's your record label, they kept me on the block
My posse's new attitude
No mercy on the stars, and that includes you
So what
your mind and lick your
Funky emotions, to blow your veins up with funk overdosing
Now who's that nigga that got your crew bellin'?
Not with guns
would've asked the nurse for a hit
The reason for this?
The mother is a jerk
Excuse me, junkie
Which brought the work of the old
Into a new light, what
would've asked the nurse for a hit
The reason for this?
The mother is a jerk
Excuse me, junkie
Which brought the work of the old
Into a new light, what
their ass cheeks yellin Geronimo
It ain't a problem at all when K solve
Three-hundred and sixty degrees rhymes or boulevards
Are charged, by my entourage,
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