God Made Me Funky Lyrics

God Made Me Funky lyrics

One time for your mind







(Hey everybody)







[ VERSE 1 ]



You know it's gots to be funky if I'ma rhyme to it



Pick up where the others left off, and I do it



With so much soul, and so much self control



I'm a smooth operator puttin rappers on hold



Flowin like a stream, the rhyme scheme seems to gleam



Like a flashlight beam, but it's no dream



It's a real type thing. and it's happenin



Caused by applause, and I'm forced to get rappin



I'm rearrangin the lines, so I can change with the times



Cockin rhymes like nines and blowin minds



I glow and shine like a beacon when I'm speakin



Skin is light, but I'm not white or Puertorican



I'm an African descendant, very independent



I make my own money so don't worry how I spend it



Rappers follow me, but I don't need another shadow



Hollow MC's, don't even think about a battle



Cause if you got the mic, and you ain't rockin it right



I'll grab it, and drop the rhyme like a bad habit



Hey, I wouldn't have it any other way



So believe a brother when I say



God made me funky







[ VERSE 2 ]



Now the way I kick a lyric you would think I play soccer



Rhyme stays proper, get ill, I be a doctor



Operate, like a well trained surgeon



Take the competition, bust em out like virgins



They get strung out, high dry, and hung out



Without a word like a cat took their tongue out



Their rhymes were frail, pale, weak, and stale



But I'm deliverin a brand-new style like a mail



Man, rain and hail, and sleet or snow



No need to worry, cause I'm guaranteed to show



Up, right on time with the rhyme to entertain ya



On the microphone, and leave like the lone ranger



'Who was that stranger?' Shoulders be shruggin



Everybody's buggin



Rhymes are funky dope and keep the crowd want more



Like a junkie hopin to make that score



I'm a true soul brother, cause that's the way to be



And only true soul brothers can dance for me



Hey, I wouldn't have it any other way



So believe a brother when I say



God made me funky







[ VERSE 3 ]



You hear the rhymes on the radio, in the a.m.



On the am, then in the p.m., on the fm



Def Jef, and my rhymes'll stick witcha



Verses say a thousand words, just like a picture



And since I'm an artist, and my pen's a paintbrush



When they admire and inquire, I say, "It ain't much"



Rhymes flow natural like a second nature



And if you wanna get on the mic, you gotta await your



Turn, learn the fundamentals



Grab some instrumentals



Practice makes perfect, so rehearsing can pay off



But for now lay off the mic



And let a real pro show you how it's supposed to go



But hold up, let me hang my coat up



Let me clear my throat up



Hm-hm, now turn my mic up



Step right up, hurry, hurry, don't miss this



Watch me light up the mic like a Christmas



Tree, see, I mean business, I ain't effin around



Put the needle on the record by Jef, and you found



A new sound and you like the way the name sound



Plus it ain't the same sound, cause it ain't James Brown



No corny lyrics, I don't rhyme like that



But when you think about comin correct - I'm like that



I wouldn't have it any other way



So believe a brother when I say



God made me funky







(Got to be) (so funky)



(Got to be)



(Get down to the funky beat)