’Uh C’mon Yeah! - Intellectual

[Gong sound]

Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa

[Verse 1]

Reload, cock back the hammer

Slam another dope funk tune from here to Alabama

With the funky guitar I light another cigar

And just like Aretha or maybe Darth Vader

I'll use the force source, here goes the toss

Ill 1-0-1, so make for no fun

Of the skill I'm a spill out my grill till I fill

The Funkdoobie will, competition's nil

So do the Chubby Checker, don't step into my sector

Protector, deflector, the Vocal Avenger

"Here I am to save the day"

Yo, it's the powerful like the Chicago Bulls

Giving you an hour full, the paragraph

Catapults something like this

In a bat cave, Son is like a fat wave

Wipin' out MCs, yo, who need to shave

[Chorus]

'Uh C'mon Yeah! (C'mon) Yeah

[Verse 2]

I stroll when I roll like Nat King Cole

Whose got a whole lotta soul

The people I've stole, yo

I flow in a pattern all the way to Saturn

And like the Green Lantern or better yet Santa

I'm so gifted, but different deliverin'

All types of styles, son, I know you're ignorant

Let me shed bright light so check out the highlight

You best to swing bright, 'cause now you's in the Twilight

Zone make it known that I could take a stone

And crush it with my vocals that fly to Acapulco

Chill with the coconuts, Son is a loco-nut

Messin' with the girls with the big fat Dakota butts

Check out the single with the ill jingle

Go eat a Pringle, mingle, or play Bingo

'Cause I get funky on the drums like Ringo

Guess I'll be out like a bird or a single

[Chorus]

'Uh C'mon Yeah! (C'mon) Yeah

C'mon, y'all

C'mon, c'mon y'all

C'mon, y'all

[Verse 3]

Ya know I'm a swing like B.B. King

A no type of flava while I eat my chicken wings

I plan, stand, I'm grand land

Another ill throat to the ear and

Heads explode, yo, off the funk mode

Ya best ta hit the road 'cause Son's got the fat load

I'm skinny like Gilligan, ya know that I'm a ill again

Didn't think I'd kill again, I'm out like a pelican

Never try to step up, always keep your rep up

In other words head up, 'cause I'll just get fed up

And knock your ass out just like a juggernaut

I hate poker, don't ya know Son can hold his spot

I'm not a wicked sorcerer, maybe an enforcer

Of music that ya know I'm writin' my brother

Hold a second, wait a second, end of record

It's about time that y'all just get buck naked

[Chorus]

'Uh C'mon Yeah! (C'mon) Yeah

[Biz Markie sample]

Rock on