Food For Funk Lyrics

Food For Funk lyrics

Common: 

What yo yo yo yo yo 

Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo 

Check
it yo 

You say a one for the trouble two for the time 

Come on
y'all let's rock that uh 

(I can feel the funk)(x4) 

Check it 



I come to grips with mics 

I come to grips that a lot of mic
users is dikes 

I come to grips with the likes of Fred Hampton 

Cold so I'm lampin with no need for spotlight 

When I got light like an
intersection, you talk 

But you came to my town with protection 

Election year, had the block hot 

I scream "fuck the world" for having
a baby girl sorta cock block 

I write rhymes like I come from the windy
city 

With my crew, I click like simply, stand midi with reality 

Casually, I walk through these war games 

Some claim say but then they
take on whore names 

If that's the way your sex drives, stay in your lane


If you're a man, I can't tell like if the door rang now 



Chorus: 

Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place


It ain't a bunch of niggaz all up in your face 

The music is
thumpin and you're feelin the bass 

What you wanna do girl(wanna shout)


To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of niggaz 

It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor 

You jackin his name and
stick to make you jones get thicker 

What you wanna do man?(let go) 

Yo, check it 



Some niggaz be on the mic, sounding like dikes


Allow me to get on and bust like Spike(uh) 

Lee, I'm in the majors
with no rotation 

Through stations of bullshit, I see through like a pager


In the age of Aquarius, various things 

Is gonna carry us in
intellect and what have you 

Street astrologists interpret point stars
and half moons 

Then end up on garages or walls in bathrooms 

Every
black moon, a rap tune move me 

The rap sun, I rain more than Rudy, that
unruly shit is played 

It don't stop 

It's time to get it, get it
made 

I got my mind made up like Foxy Brown's face 

I know how the
underground tastes 

I want a crib from the ground up, rooms spin at a
round pace 

Get down based on true story, through Corey, came close to
the teachers 

Colder as the Iceman, posted before it start wrinklin 

Linkin with cats, who don't react to change in the years 

Fulfill
prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now 



Chorus: 



I can feel the funk(x8) 

Yo, check it, check it 



I came
through the corridor, with the aura 

Raw Chicago mora, scope the horror


Read between the lines and know the border 

Some pop wines for
juice, I wait in the water 

Waitin for you Big Willie niggaz to have a
show at The Crib 

We gon get with your glamour, long as we know where it
is 

Tell you ain't a player by your sweater doused with wack feather 

The Crib got the gangsta playa shit patent like black leather 

I rap
better than you, you, or maybe him 

But I am like a tree and every lyric
is a timb 

Spilled brews and greasy foods got my car smelly 

Some
be so high, they believe they fly like R. Kelly 

But then they fall off,
dusted niggaz is gettin sawed off 

They fall soft, my mental lift is for
me to haul off 

I kick ass 



Chorus: 

(scratching) 

I can feel the funk(x16)(makes me wanna shout, wanna shout)(x4) 

(scratching)Wanna shout