[Intro: Too $hort, Interview Clips]
It really hasn't been brought up too clearly
The Luniz and Too $hort everything has been squashed
Yeah we want everybody to know, that it's, you know
The Oaktown ain't about this
The media hypes up things when they're wrong
But doesn't give enough praise when everything is going good
We should just do a cut
Don't even mention no beef or nothing, just drop it on 'em
You know it's politics, that made it sound like that
But it's all unified you see it's all Jesus
BITCH! BITCH! BITCH! BITCH! BITCH!
Man what's it all about? Ain't about shit
Nigga call me up talkin' about man it's on
Your niggas fucking wit' my niggas an it's on
Nigga, what we frontin' for?
If it ain't about this money
Ain't about this life an death nigga, shit
What's really going on?
[Verse 1: Too $hort]
Jumped all in a nigga's face front him on the spot
Don't cross the game unless ya wanna get shot
But who made the rules, do you recall?
Who's the judge when it comes to this street law?
Is it me? You? Or is it my crew?
My niggas get down, your niggas do too
Motherfuckers try to tell me don't fuck my life
'Cause ain't nuthin' nice, ya gotta pay the price
You know them dudes - walkin' in them same shoes
It's brand new to you, but the game is used
I got it from them old niggas, they so cool
Now we just roll through, all the hoes know who
Ballin' in town, don't front, it's too little
Fake ass niggas get punked for your vittles
So what's it all about? Think about it later
To all you real gangsters, and all you perpetrators
[Chorus: Harm]
You've got me funkin' (Funkin')
Over nothin' man (Funkin' mayne)
Why ya wanna funk wit' me?
You've got me funkin' (Funkin')
Over nothin' man (Funkin' mayne)
Why ya wanna funk with me?
(Niggas funk over shit! Speak on it boy!)
[Verse 2: Yukmouth]
Uh, sometimes you step in some shit you can't get out of
Niggas who talk hella shit is who I'm quick to sock the shit out of
Sniff powder, wit' all yo' hoes off my door
Got em froze like Poconos, you're spendin' all yo' dough
On the average-ass, stanky ass, run a gank-ass
Fuck everybody fast, just an Oakland-ass hoe
Now I know why niggas knock yo' ass out like Glass Joe
All that playa hatin' shit ain't asked for
You must got problems wit' niggas makin' they cash flow
You gaffled yo' motherfuckin' youngsters
So go with your old ass flow, I gots to have jaw-jacked hoe
'Cause some of niggas wonder why us playas do this
On the under, caught up in some shit I didn't have nothin' to do wit'
The truth is, you know my funk is through [censored]
So ride for a nigga if that nigga ain't gonna do shit
You wanna be ass pimp
Gettin' your ass whipped is like an every year event, bitch
Dig it
[Chorus: Harm]
You've got me funkin'
Over nothin' man
Funkin', why ya wanna funk wit' me?
You've got me funkin' (Funkin')
Over nothin' man (Funkin' mayne)
[Verse 3: Numskull]
I'm too motherfuckin' much for myself
So funkin' wit' niggas close to home is somethin' else
If you ain't gonna blow a nigga head off, then that's the end it
Concentrate on makin' mail and start spendin'
Now this is where my do it for myself begins
'Cause in '97, I ain't makin' no new motherfuckin' friends
Now I got no enemies, I hold no grudges
From now on, I'm overseein' my own budget (For real!)
We all did our dirt nigga, but now that's all forgiven
Chris, you my nigga 'til the ending, and
I started wit' Dru (Yeah, me too) I started with Yuk'
(Smoke-A-Lot)
You're all hangin with me, so I gives a fuck
Nummy-Num gone go ahead and drink his self to death
Nigga you wanna chop it up wit me, go through death yourself
I ain't tryin to hear nothin', instead of throwin' away skrillion, nigga
I'd rather be fuckin', uh
[Chorus: Harm]
You've got me funkin' (Funkin')
Over nothin' man (Funkin' mayne)
You've got me funkin'
Over nothin' man (Funkin' mayne)
Why ya wanna funk wit' me?
[Verse 4: Too $hort]
I signed my name on the dotted line, niggas know I did it first
But when you first, you know you get it worse
I suck the game up, I try to pass it on
Niggas from the Bay, gettin' they cash on
From Frisco, to Vallejo
To the Big O, fuck that yayo
Hundred thousand units make a nigga half a million dollars
If you sittin' on a grip, I have to holla at you later
You can get rich in a minute
Two words: Distribution, Independent
Make an acapella you can hear every word
I spit this game you never ever heard
You know how you be quick to pop niggas
These record companies be quick to rob niggas
I say, "$hort Dogg" and now they pay me
Don't pay these youngsters and watch 'em get crazy
[Chorus: Harm]
You've got me funkin' over nothin' man
You've got me funkin' over nothin' man
You've got me funkin' over nothin' man (Funkin')
Why ya wanna funk wit' me?
You've got me funkin' over nothin' man (Funkin' mayne)
Why ya wanna funk wit' me?
[Outro: Too $hort]
Fuck around and run up in your shit
Yeah, that's the new thing goin' baby
We runnin' up in record companies
Writin' our own motherfuckin' checks
Sign on the dotted line nigga
What you really gettin'? What's really goin' on?
Watch out
Niggas in the town about to unite
We going nationwide
Oakland style, bitch!
Oh you really thought that wasn't gonna happen?
Shit, come on now