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"Funky Shit" Lyrics

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[Intro:] x4Sitting in the back
(Oh my god)S-Sitting the back
(f-f-f-funky shit)[Verse 1:]Peanut jelly box,
sitting in the carport808 crack,
and I'm open like a barndoorBeer bottle cap,
put 'em in the floorSet 'em in the floor,
what a metaphor is this?Kind of like I'll beat with
TravisEat it up, beat it up?
atlasWhere should I go? Put 'em in a cereal bowlIn
Alabama, then I holler out "Cheerio"Look at that shit,
pull her on back like elasticAnd let it go like a mac?S-Sipping
on the green bottle, like I'm saint PatrickGot beans
in the mattress, magicMake you want to jump on a fat
bitchOoo got to have it(Boss) Send the wolf,
pick a thingOn a pekingese bitch,
go go gadget(Owh) I'm all the way from the gutterFlick
a cigarette butt from a Chevrolet pickupGeeked up on
7 UpGotta turn the beat up while I run up on it like
a cheetah? well, that'd be the dayPut you up shit creekPaddle
be away, hat to the sideHoller at you homieWhat's the
matter with you babe?[Hook:]Sitting in the back with
the bass on boomTrunk gon shake,
and the wheels on zoomAmerican classic,
trashy tunesL.A. to Alabama,
from noon to noonThey saying,
(oh my god, that's some funky shit)(Oh my god,
that's some funky shit)(Oh my god,
that's some funky shit)Oh my god,
that's some funky shit[Verse 2:]And I'm a Beastie BoyAirwalks
and a bowl cutSkater when a skater wasn't coolWhen
it was just, "so what? Fuck you dude"Well fuck you
too? with a backpackI'll bust your fruitI'm all about
constructing my paperKind of like a pocket full of
Elmer's GlueSqueeze the bottle,
turn the milkChurn the butter,
get the cheese tomorrowI got a lock on my profitNo
exits, no keys tomorrowBut I got steeze to borrowSome
Famous kicks to matchIf I got a bass line,
I'll rapAs long as TB got sticks to crackSo hit a drumroll,
I'll jump in like a jump ropeWatchAcapella like an
elevator operator?While the operator labeled my fucking
high tops?Rhythm like a clock,
I'm scotchYou would've thought,
it was writtenBut it's notRag hanging out them?
jeansNot a gangbanger but a banger who singsAnd momma
don't you worry about a single thingReally though,
cause daddy brought charcoal,
and gasolineAnd we cooking up tonight,
t-bones, pinto beans[Hook][Verse 3:]Yeah,
why stop now?Put 'em in the trunkLet 'em feel the soundThat
they don't pop itLet 'em feel the rhyme till he finds
the locket808 weighs a ton,
so drop itWatch your feet,
while I rock the beatGoing all out,
no private seatI don't walk if I can ride the beatBut
wouldn't you though? Don't lie to meOf course you would,
catapult syllablesGot up on my horse in the woods,
whoaMagical, sorcerer goodsSteal from the rich put
more in the hoodNatural, born with a woodFuck 'em all,
I'm right above 'em allBut you could butt talk,
if a? fallOut with a motherfucker with a sluggish crawlChug
till I can't chug at allNot a frat boy,
I'm a rap boyIn Hollywood,
like AykroydBut I read my script with a southern drawlI
run home when mother callsCause mother's got a switchYeah,
she's a wolf tooThat makes me a son of a bitch[Hook]
song info:
Verified yes
LanguageEnglish
Rank
Duration00:03:39
Charts
Copyright ©BMG Rights Management
WriterMichael Atha, Travis Barker
Lyrics licensed byLyricFind
AddedApril 15th, 2013
Last updatedMarch 6th, 2022
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