Trials - Certified lyrics

[Hook:] We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need The Funk-/-oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need The Funk-/-oars [Verse 1: Hons] You think you're the sh** man? We battle rats about e-going This man pour his own who*e like Rip Cam Get off the stage before you get your reb carnish And your dream's shut down by the certified marksman The funkoars. Yes, the name that ring balls I bring war to this rap world like H.G. Wells The kids these days, they drop an average pre-mature Ain't last a hot minute like they stuck anymore, so Hons one still dissing your crew You take an honour cheat like Peter Moss finishing moo So I guess that I'm finished with you In the roof I spit a hot 16 like it was idiot proof I'm mad hungry, industry ain't give me a bride I starve the [?] want the idiot to swallow his pride f** that, I'm a funkoar for life You can find me at the bar then at Jack's 'til I'm rotten inside [Hook:] We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the rhyme [Verse 2: Trials] T f**ing rum loving husbands 'til the hangover Point fingers at the game like girl, what you bang opera? But they're wack, they're sh** and they're worse It's maggot rap rim burning, high not enough Welcome nut helpers sober, never rover, clever burning To the earth, drunk f** that can work it in a verse. (hey!) That's why I give you more of the bore More for poor kids racking 'oars from the store, listen How far for the backstage pa**? Got a nice spring to it like help, it's us. (oh!) I want a hit and miss Connie, get a slice of the Sneaky sound tape and stick with a [?] Connie? Record p**n store blue from the back, try that Chew the fat 'til she doing just that Like, nice to meet you, rock up, knock you up Leave your b**h repeating 'til I got seats for s**er season [Hook:] We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the rhyme [Verse 3: Sesta] Peep the sound of the sweep, peep the sound of the beat Drop it, now watch me rap the sh** out of beat So I, be easy if you're eager to spit I got it eager to beef motherf**ers all egging an eve Said something like "Seddy can't rap?" I've seen him and he said I never said he can't rap Bad with the left, man with the white Slow with a kick, f** it, bad in a fight But I roll deep enough, your whole street seen with c*nts Leaking guts in the gutter, so keep it up But [?] means sh** to us Still the kids keep feeling our stuff And the ladies keep reaching for nuts Take away a couple of months and they weren't speaking to us (nope) But you can't blame them we the same Insane, let the brain motherf**ers in weight change [Hook:] We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the sh** that you need We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the rhyme