歌曲 | Funky Rhythms |
歌手 | Dred Scott |
专辑 | Breakin' Combs |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Chapman, Scott | |
(feat. Tragedy) | |
[Chorus:] | |
Funky rhythms on my mind, day and night (Listen, I hear a beat) [x6] | |
[Dred Scott] | |
So watch the kid fly through the atmosphere | |
When I'm rocking up a party, yo, I feel no fear | |
I be the one with the funk I kick | |
Yo I gets on the mic and says something sick | |
I give a "la-di-da-di yes yes y'all" | |
I seen your granny doing backflips at the mall | |
And at the party I'm the killa dilla jerk a fool and blast | |
Like a pissed off post office worker | |
But you must understand that I'm just having fun | |
Like Sanford and Son cause I feel swell | |
When I bust my nut off when I'm on the DL | |
A fucking midget with his legs cut off | |
Can't get lower than me when I shake my funk | |
A brother with style and I ain't no punk | |
Like Nat, I'm a king that's Cole as ice | |
Double teaming me because you know I'm twice as nice | |
So check it out y'all | |
[Chorus] | |
[Tragedy] | |
Rappers be selling out like tickets to a championship fight | |
But hold tight, I'm the motivator with the right | |
Stuff, I keep it rough while you huff and puff, so save the bluff | |
Cause I ain't even trying to hear that stuff | |
I kick black facts over fat tracks that Dred packs | |
Peace to Freaknasty and the rest of my cats | |
Where's the axe? I want to cut a rapper in half | |
And laugh, dissect his whole steelo | |
Used to be high, so I chopped him down to be low | |
Put him to the side like a cop does a kilo | |
I'm raw, I funk you up and down like a see saw | |
To be more than a racist pig named Limbaugh | |
You see, cause I be the mad verbal doctor | |
Check my resume, I'm at the top of the roster | |
For your listening pleasure... | |
[Chorus] | |
[Dred Scott & Tragedy] | |
I gots to be the prodigy, you know I be vocalizing | |
Earlying in the morning while you're yawning | |
Here comes the pain, let it rain like thunder | |
Cause I be the true overlord of the under | |
Breaking chumps like old Tupperware | |
Stepping up smooth Dred with my savoir fare | |
Imperial funklord, cause I be the freaker | |
So funky you think I farted down your speaker | |
Like a dozen rotten eggs, kid, I'm taking no shorts | |
Not even for my skinny legs | |
The renegade with the ill vernacular, I bring the drama | |
I get loose just like the lips on Madonna | |
My flow is all around, and yours is like a | |
Bucket over there that broke down | |
I would have given you a ride if you had let me know | |
That you had to hitchhike | |
Just like I'm going to pass you the mic right now | |
Awww, bitch, sike | |
[Chorus] | |
[Dred Scott] | |
With the beat kicking back, yo I like that snare | |
On the microphone cause my style is rare | |
And the rest of the world ain't heard that shit before | |
I'm on the microphone, I slam just like a door | |
BOOM! And it shuts while I kick the dust | |
I'm on the microphone flowing and I can't... [fades out] |
zuo qu : Chapman, Scott | |
feat. Tragedy | |
Chorus: | |
Funky rhythms on my mind, day and night Listen, I hear a beat x6 | |
Dred Scott | |
So watch the kid fly through the atmosphere | |
When I' m rocking up a party, yo, I feel no fear | |
I be the one with the funk I kick | |
Yo I gets on the mic and says something sick | |
I give a " ladidadi yes yes y' all" | |
I seen your granny doing backflips at the mall | |
And at the party I' m the killa dilla jerk a fool and blast | |
Like a pissed off post office worker | |
But you must understand that I' m just having fun | |
Like Sanford and Son cause I feel swell | |
When I bust my nut off when I' m on the DL | |
A fucking midget with his legs cut off | |
Can' t get lower than me when I shake my funk | |
A brother with style and I ain' t no punk | |
Like Nat, I' m a king that' s Cole as ice | |
Double teaming me because you know I' m twice as nice | |
So check it out y' all | |
Chorus | |
Tragedy | |
Rappers be selling out like tickets to a championship fight | |
But hold tight, I' m the motivator with the right | |
Stuff, I keep it rough while you huff and puff, so save the bluff | |
Cause I ain' t even trying to hear that stuff | |
I kick black facts over fat tracks that Dred packs | |
Peace to Freaknasty and the rest of my cats | |
Where' s the axe? I want to cut a rapper in half | |
And laugh, dissect his whole steelo | |
Used to be high, so I chopped him down to be low | |
Put him to the side like a cop does a kilo | |
I' m raw, I funk you up and down like a see saw | |
To be more than a racist pig named Limbaugh | |
You see, cause I be the mad verbal doctor | |
Check my resume, I' m at the top of the roster | |
For your listening pleasure... | |
Chorus | |
Dred Scott Tragedy | |
I gots to be the prodigy, you know I be vocalizing | |
Earlying in the morning while you' re yawning | |
Here comes the pain, let it rain like thunder | |
Cause I be the true overlord of the under | |
Breaking chumps like old Tupperware | |
Stepping up smooth Dred with my savoir fare | |
Imperial funklord, cause I be the freaker | |
So funky you think I farted down your speaker | |
Like a dozen rotten eggs, kid, I' m taking no shorts | |
Not even for my skinny legs | |
The renegade with the ill vernacular, I bring the drama | |
I get loose just like the lips on Madonna | |
My flow is all around, and yours is like a | |
Bucket over there that broke down | |
I would have given you a ride if you had let me know | |
That you had to hitchhike | |
Just like I' m going to pass you the mic right now | |
Awww, bitch, sike | |
Chorus | |
Dred Scott | |
With the beat kicking back, yo I like that snare | |
On the microphone cause my style is rare | |
And the rest of the world ain' t heard that shit before | |
I' m on the microphone, I slam just like a door | |
BOOM! And it shuts while I kick the dust | |
I' m on the microphone flowing and I can' t... fades out |
zuò qǔ : Chapman, Scott | |
feat. Tragedy | |
Chorus: | |
Funky rhythms on my mind, day and night Listen, I hear a beat x6 | |
Dred Scott | |
So watch the kid fly through the atmosphere | |
When I' m rocking up a party, yo, I feel no fear | |
I be the one with the funk I kick | |
Yo I gets on the mic and says something sick | |
I give a " ladidadi yes yes y' all" | |
I seen your granny doing backflips at the mall | |
And at the party I' m the killa dilla jerk a fool and blast | |
Like a pissed off post office worker | |
But you must understand that I' m just having fun | |
Like Sanford and Son cause I feel swell | |
When I bust my nut off when I' m on the DL | |
A fucking midget with his legs cut off | |
Can' t get lower than me when I shake my funk | |
A brother with style and I ain' t no punk | |
Like Nat, I' m a king that' s Cole as ice | |
Double teaming me because you know I' m twice as nice | |
So check it out y' all | |
Chorus | |
Tragedy | |
Rappers be selling out like tickets to a championship fight | |
But hold tight, I' m the motivator with the right | |
Stuff, I keep it rough while you huff and puff, so save the bluff | |
Cause I ain' t even trying to hear that stuff | |
I kick black facts over fat tracks that Dred packs | |
Peace to Freaknasty and the rest of my cats | |
Where' s the axe? I want to cut a rapper in half | |
And laugh, dissect his whole steelo | |
Used to be high, so I chopped him down to be low | |
Put him to the side like a cop does a kilo | |
I' m raw, I funk you up and down like a see saw | |
To be more than a racist pig named Limbaugh | |
You see, cause I be the mad verbal doctor | |
Check my resume, I' m at the top of the roster | |
For your listening pleasure... | |
Chorus | |
Dred Scott Tragedy | |
I gots to be the prodigy, you know I be vocalizing | |
Earlying in the morning while you' re yawning | |
Here comes the pain, let it rain like thunder | |
Cause I be the true overlord of the under | |
Breaking chumps like old Tupperware | |
Stepping up smooth Dred with my savoir fare | |
Imperial funklord, cause I be the freaker | |
So funky you think I farted down your speaker | |
Like a dozen rotten eggs, kid, I' m taking no shorts | |
Not even for my skinny legs | |
The renegade with the ill vernacular, I bring the drama | |
I get loose just like the lips on Madonna | |
My flow is all around, and yours is like a | |
Bucket over there that broke down | |
I would have given you a ride if you had let me know | |
That you had to hitchhike | |
Just like I' m going to pass you the mic right now | |
Awww, bitch, sike | |
Chorus | |
Dred Scott | |
With the beat kicking back, yo I like that snare | |
On the microphone cause my style is rare | |
And the rest of the world ain' t heard that shit before | |
I' m on the microphone, I slam just like a door | |
BOOM! And it shuts while I kick the dust | |
I' m on the microphone flowing and I can' t... fades out |