"And now for something completely different"

Hey!, Fuck you we crush crews the oar way
I'm, Sicker then using period blood for war paint
Fans rush the stage, Then half these ladies
Got fucked, Got dressed, And left with bastard babies (Dada)
These days, I never chase women.
'Cause that's like playing rock paper sisscors, Limbless.
No use, And that's an easy mistake.
I treat a rapper like a habbit, Both easy to break.
I say, take one look, Your dealing with a heavy weight
Suffas got a bed, But I gotta bitch in every state.
Strap the latex, I'm the pin prick between safe sex
And having to take and aids test.
I can say CDub is holding them back.
The only thing holding them back is being overly whack
Hey!, Messing with the oars of funk
You get get crushed like you gave big pun the top bunk

So shut the fuck up, Funkoars pound the stage until the floor breaks
So get the fuck out, We drink the rum until its out them barrels
So what the fucks up, To my crew in the front row, We ain't never gunna fall off
Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck that!

I'm coming in anononomously, I'm an monogamysy
Get off the top and their leaving with their novelty
Honestly, Go no property
That's a problem for someone dumb enough watch ya company
Fucking me don't mean loving me, Fuck it!
I don't want no bun in the oven so face fuck em
Say she love it, But she makes her weight to the bucket
Chuck it, and I ain't the greatest or nothing
But she's on her fucking knees like she's praying or something.
Ain't in the door, rushing gatecrashing the floor
It's nothing but oars and their mates and they may take it all
Praise the lord, For the drunks and the town drunks
With the town slut, Doing the in and out when they found us
Or see me kicking it drinking with village idiots
Screaming their innocent while spewing up bile into em.
Or getting violent and swinging nine irons
At bystanders and fans at random on the land so

Shut the fuck up, Funkoars pound the stage until the floor breaks
So get the fuck out, We drink the rum until its out them barrels
So what the fucks up, To my crew in the front row, We ain't never gunna fall off
Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck that!

Check it out, Now I'mma tell you what the oars about
We About to milk this scene dry and take the carcass to the slaughter house
Shit you ain't thought about the crew cats talk about
On stage in your city until the mic cords start shorting out
Turn the heat up, Semi x turn the beat up
Flux fresh on the scratch like a car that's just been keyed up
And you need more than luck if your ripping honz
The punch lines that I deliver hit harder then Whitney was
Work a shitty job, 5 days and 50 bob
And after debt collectors I got just enough to get written off
My crew the dirtiest Funkoars you heard of us
Second album down, By now you know our purpose is
To take this scene over, Who the fucks going to stop us
When half the cats that enter battles these days are fucking soft cocks
We get you open like a fresh beer
So ahead of our time, we the number one crew of next year

So shut the fuck up, Funkoars pound the stage until the floor breaks
So get the fuck out, We drink the rum until its out them barrels
So what the fucks up, To my crew in the front row, We ain't never gunna fall off
Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck that!

Writer : RANKINE, DANIEL / YATES, DANIEL MARK / BAKER, ADAM / HONSON, MATTHEW
Copyright : Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC