Dred Scott - Funky Rhythms lyrics

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Dred Scott - Funky Rhythms lyrics

(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 k**a 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 f**ing 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 pa** you the mic right now Awww, b**h, 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 sh** 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]