never slacking, hoes I be macking Violent J serving ghetto hard street shit The funk, the funk from the old days Violent J serving ghetto hard street shit The funk
remain calm Gather up my thoughts so I don't go wrong Plan to move too smooth, you think you got me Weak tar in copy, fake villain, who the fuck you
if you hear me (Ughhhhhh) and if we say bye bye bye then take my heart with you [Said during Chorus] Holla if you heard me Ughhhh Master P Sons of Funk Sons of Funk
worked too hard fo nigga quote me Yo swole bank rolls done turned to li'l ol anarxins Get ready to pay the price [Incomprehensible] pee wee no catchin' Who
Yooooo I said yooooo For all them industry haters that said we couldn't do it This for my country thug street yeagas You know we gon' Smoke good, drink
night I walked in and glanced, shook a few hands Grabbed the baddest broad, then I commence to dance I looked the dj, and said "whassup? " He said
get down Watch this fly, force feed things being said Nine Diagram acid black evil red left his Mic half a dangle, seriously man My mic clapper def wish, everlasting plan
yo've saved Throughout the week, If you're a non smoker, then please don't try to speak. The plan, the plan ya know I've got a plan, Squirrels go
, party and bullshit We used to fuck R&B bitches and see who rhyme sickest For every hit you made, more rappers afraid to come out Machine Gun Funk from
We?re marchin? side by side and My people laugh, my people cry My people ride and die People, my people, keep striving There?s a greater master plan
know what? I bet you got it twisted you don't know who to trust So many playa hating niggaz tryin' to sound like us Say they ready for the funk, but
I'm seein the world and all its different kind of poses (WOO!) Crush you like roaches, that's keepin the crowd movin (HAA!) Mr and the dancers, who said
get love 'Cause I ain't trippin' on your ass I don't smash on niggas who are smaller than me I smash on niggas who big like the DPGC Ooh wee, I get '
we all have individual purpose It's amazing, how the streets do the majority of raising Of children who end up dead before hearing what you said And
who want the pistol smoke cause I'll initial on my shoulder holster You know the culture when it's East coast, we run the streets most Who want beef
from the Psycho Ward Once again [Verse One: B-Real] Psycho from the ward, a warning, a fucking scandal Lookin' around, paranoid devoid the funk banner
is dust Comin' through my area, I'ma have to bury ya The real scream team on your scream scene It's like showdown on the range, go tell me who wanna
my area, i'ma have to bury ya The real scream team on your scream scene It's like showdown on the range Go tell me who wanna tangle with the Ghetto witch