Funky Rhythms Lyrics
| Song | Funky Rhythms |
| Artist | Dred Scott |
| Album | Breakin' Combs |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Chapman, Scott | |
| (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 killa 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 fucking 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 pass you the mic right now | |
| Awww, bitch, 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 shit 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] |
| zuo qu : Chapman, Scott | |
| 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 " ladidadi yes yes y' all" | |
| I seen your granny doing backflips at the mall | |
| And at the party I' m the killa 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 fucking 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 pass you the mic right now | |
| Awww, bitch, 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 shit 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 |
| zuò qǔ : Chapman, Scott | |
| 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 " ladidadi yes yes y' all" | |
| I seen your granny doing backflips at the mall | |
| And at the party I' m the killa 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 fucking 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 pass you the mic right now | |
| Awww, bitch, 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 shit 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 |
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