Food For Funk lyrics

Artist  : Common 
Song : Food For Funk



 Send "Food For Funk" Ringtone to your Cell 

 

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