[Verse 1]
So you wanna be hardcore
With your hat to the back
Talking about the gats in your raps
But I can't feel that hardcore
Appeal that you're screaming
Maybe I'm dreaming
This ain't Christopher Williams, still some
MC's got to feel one
Caps, I got to peel some
To let n***as know
That if you f** with big-and-heavy
I get up in that a** like a wedgie
Says who - says me, the lyrical
n***as saying: "Biggie off the street, it's a miracle!"
Left the d** alone, took the thugs along with me
Just for n***as acting shifty
Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat'll k** you quicker
Especially when I'm drunk off the liquor
Smoking funk by the boxes, packing Glocks
It's natural to eat you n***as like chocolates
The funk, baby
[Hook]
"I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk"
[Verse 2]
All I want is b**hes, big-booty b**hes
Used to sell crack, so I could stack my riches
Now I pack gats to stop all the snitches
From staying in my business, what is this, relentless
Approach to know if I'm broke or not
Just cause I joke and smoke a lot
Don't mean I don't tote the Glock
16 shots for my n***as in the pen
Until we motherf**ing meet again
I'm doing rhymes now, f** the crimes now
Come on the ave, I'm real hard to find now
Cause I'm knee-deep in the beats
In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the MAC-10 by the seats
For the jackers, the jealous-a** crackers in the *blue suits*
I'll make you prove that it's bulletproof
Hold your head, cause when you hit the bricks
I got gin, mad blunts, and b**hes s**ing dick
The funk, baby
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side
How I smoked funk, smacked b**hes on the backside
Bed-Stuy: the place where my head rests
50-shot clip if a n***a want test
The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya
High as a motherf**ing helicopter
That's why I pack a Nina, f** a misdeameanor
Beating motherf**ers like Ike beat Tina
"What's love got to do"?
When I'm ripping all through your whole crew
Strapped like Bamboo but I don't sling guns
I got bags of funk and it's selling by the tons
n***as want to know how I live the mack life
Making money, smoking mics like crack pipes
It's type simple and plain to maintain
I add a little funk to the brain
The funk, baby