Compton`s Most Wanted Rhymes Too Funky Pt 1 Lyrics

Rhymes Too Funky Pt 1 Lyrics

Who's playing all that damn loud-ass music out there?

 (with the funky piano...) --> chuck d

 Turn that shit down, man

 Don't you know i'm tryin to get some sleep here?

 (with the funky piano...) --> chuck d

 Huh?

 What you say?

 I'll go upside your goddamn head, man

 If you don't put that goddamn music down, man

 (with the funky piano...) --> chuck d

 Woman, call 911 to get these niggas off this goddamn street

 I got to sleep now

 

 (compton's in the house)

 (yeah)

 

 [ verse 1: mc eiht ]

 Yeah, killin off suckers, it's me

 You're stupid tryin to take me for some punk mc?

 I'm here to tax dollars, raps not cheap

 Compton's most wanted, punk, rollin four deep

 Gats that i'm packin, sucker better put it back

 I'm slappin dumb girls cause my rhymes on hit

 But on the smooth tip, kickin that butt

 Had too much st. ides, and started throwin it up

 Super lyricist, yeah, cold in fact

 I'm sprayin all you faggot fake mc jacks

 Boy, i smack and rack and pack and stack

 To smash all the sucker mc's in a war-like attack

 So chill (what's up?)

 Tell these punk	fools that they ran out of luck

 (hey yo eiht) what's up?

 (boy, i think you said enough)

 Chill, i ain't said shit until i call a punk's bluff

 Put you on to punishment, eiht is like your father

 Wanna beg? sucker, don't bother

 Last-place mc's think you can handle this?

 (1-2-3) sock em smooth through the canvas

 It's time to start pumpin, know what i'm sayin

 Yeah, i got the  picture, i commence the sprayin

 

 [ verse 2: tha chill ]

 Boy, hold up, tha chill's on the stage

 C.m.w. is like a hub city army brigade

 Give no slack to no plack or no punk new jack

 Get racked like that because your rhymes are wack

 So hit me with your best shot, and boy, you see

 How tha chill and the eiht drop punk mc's

 But credit's never due to you suckers that be fakin it

 Call it a jack, but yo, i'm just takin it

 Your money, your gold, your fortune, and your fame

 So hang it up, because you got no game

 So just let up, i'm gettin fed up

 You're talkin trash, punk, just shut up

 Leave it to tha chill, yeah, i take care of business

 (that's bet, cause eiht is the witness)

 A super hype mellow compton cold chillin lyricist

 Like a scary movie suckers play fearin this

 In fact you're a pole caught in thick asphalt

 But diss my down posse, yo, i'm droppin the dogs

 So just chill as tha chill explains

 When it comes to gettin over i know all the game

 So suckers don't jock me like a backstreet junkie

 Cause c.m.w.'s cold runnin it, rhymes too funky

 

 C.m.w. - is that you, man?

 (yeah!)

 Keep on playin that shit, man

 I like that shit, man

 Woman, cancel that 911 call

 They ain't comin anyway, this is compton

 Man, that shit was gonna sound good in my t-bird, man