Redman - 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 fu*k man? Get the fu*k 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 tech nine by the waistline, kickin the hype sh** I never claim to be the best type of rapper But hafta, 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 thang 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 ejected 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***az 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 smoov 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***az, my n***az 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 Slick=er than my man Rick You better check the Yellow Pages under smoov sh** cause Red ain't down for the bullsh** n***az f**ed up by letting me make an album (How come rude bwoy?) To get on the mic and let my f**in style run Nasty f**in greenthumb Jolly Green n***az 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?