Erick Sermon - Tonight's Da Night lyrics

[Redman] Mic check, I can get smooth to any groove Relax the tongue, let my mic take a cruise Around the planet, pack em in like Janet Jackson, she's askin if I can slam it I'm- [Hurricane G] Yo yo Redman! Man what the f** man? Get the f** off that.. punk smoov sh** man! Get with that rough sh** man, you know how we do! [Redman] Mic check, I walk around the streets with a black tec nine By the waistline, kickin the hype sh** I never claim to be the best type of rapper But have to, show them motherf**ers what I'm after I'm after the gold, then after that the platinum Beef after that, Hurricane G packs the gat son Trigger, bang, bang, yo bust the slang, whut my name? It's the Redman on the funk train Psyche, you're motherf**in right, tonight's the night To do what I wanna do, to do it like dynamite The work perfected, when the funk been injected I roughen up the rough draft to like make your head split Punk! Pa** the 40 and the blunt and don't front On the block, cause when you do front, brothers are gettin stomped I'm not a addict, more like puff than magic Then pa** it when I'm through cause my crew gots to have it I don't claim to be a big rap star Cause no matter who you are, you'll still catch a bullet scar So listen up and take heed to what I'm sayin Cause tonight's the night and me and my n***as ain't playin' Fat black b**h! Nasty Bush bear, booga breath b**h Nasty, talk to your tits b**h With them nasty Africans, Mr. Bojangles Turned up shoes havin a** Lemming leprechaun haircut motherf**er! You wanna see me get cool, please, save it for the breeze Cause the lyrics and tracks, make me funky like cottage cheese f** the smooth sh**, I get down wit the boom bip Like Q-Tip, I kick more styles than Bruce shoe's kick But tonight's the night what I write tonight This type of funk with the flavor like Mike 'n' Ike's Hanging out wit my n***as, my n***as The Pack Pistol Posse keep they fingers on the triggers I keep the 40 between my lap, coolin, rollin down the highway Blunt system pumps cause it's Friday Roll over to pick my boys up, we raise a lot of noise Cause, we can do that black, so "Get the Bozack" Jack Remember, I do the type of evil that men do Like cursin out my window at a b**h and her friend too So turn the volume up a notch And watch the ba-BUMP, ba-BUMP, make ya speakers pop That's the funk, when it pumps it makes your rump Jump, jump, jump.. jump, jump, jump But if you want to see a fly but frantic Cool romantic, more slicker than my man Rick You better check the Yellow Pages under smooth sh** Cause Red ain't down for the bullsh** n***as f**ed up by letting me make an album (How come rude boy?) To get on the mic and let my f**in style run Nasty f**in greenthumb Jolly Green n***as Tango mango, pickin havin a** Nasty epileptic disease crazy havin a** Johnny Cash, afro havin Jack of Spades, boots havin Tony Danza, shoes wearin a**! B-b-b-black by popular demand, I expand My hand to the mic and let my mouth kick the flim flam I get s**, I get wreck, I puff mad blunts I get vexed, I break necks, punch out gold fronts, chump You Yo, f** that, yo turn this sh** off man Turn this sh** off, G Boom the new record on, knahmsayin?