[Verse 1]

I get mad wicked, (Fuck around) and catch a bad one by the funker

I puff the mad spliffs and roll blunts with Archie Bunker

'Cause my brain is twisted, so I cock the biscuit

'Cause shit's thick, some say I'm a bastard of a swift bitch

Negro, funkin' it with the style in your ear, bro

To make you fear me like Cape without Robert DeNiro

You big pussy, so funky that you have to douche me

You can't hear me, then my record label didn't push me

I know I'm sayin' funk too many times in my rhymes

But if I wasn't that, I wouldn't freak it in the line

But it don't seems to matter 'cause my shit get fatter and fatter

I'll do the funk in your face and it slaps ya

How does it feel with the face full of funk?

With the bass in your trunk? Weed laced with the blunt

I puff, I never got snuffed

Bust while I dust your monkey ass off

Thin ice is crushed on the hush-hush

So if you want a taste of the funk from the gutter

Ask the brothers (Why?), 'cause I'm bad (Word to mother)

[Chorus]

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Bad, bad, and a wicked in bed)

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Bad, bad, and a wicked in bed)

[Interlude]

Yo, yo, check this out

This is for y'all hokey-pokey, punk, pussy motherfuckers

Just to show y'all I do what the fuck I wanna do

I want y'all to check this on the real

And yo, check this out

Shake it, come on, shake it, come on, shake it, come on, shake it

What's up now? What's up now? What's up now? What's up now?

What's up now?

Yo, Red, come on, get back to the track, man (I wanna get out of here)

Yo, kid, chill, check it out (Alright, alright)

[Verse 2]

Flexy, I'm sexy when I'm standin' in my draws

If you can't check me when I'm rappin', put the tape on pause

And listen to the incredible shit that I kick, my man

Give me five on the backhand, then stick

Your finger in a hole and chop the stick quick

'Cause my lip get to the point to still rock the fly shit

Since you're holding your breath, I hold my jewels

I swing hardcore, so I walk, holdin' my tools

The original P-Funk, takes no junk from a chump or punk, G

I been this way every since nine months

So get down while I rip the raps from my lip 'cause

My shit's more deep than any tape from Enigma

The gettin' nice, thinkin' killer brother who pop trash

Basic instinct, I'm a shooter, so they got blasted

Much ass I kick, groove to the master mix

My song still pumps when it's not even mastered, bitch

My shit's very chronic, so rewind it

'Cause it's like (Eh-eh-eh-eh) beyond bionic

'Cause I'm a wild and crazy guy, no lie

Last brother to battle me, I started pissin' in his eye

I'm bad, word to mother, to the motherfuckin' Hubbard

Eatin' her curds and whey, puffin spliffs 'cause she doesn't

And if you still don't under-fuckin'-stand where I'm comin' from

Listen to my 9, understand where it's hummin' from

[Chorus]

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Bad, bad, and a wicked in bed)

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Yo, word to the mother)

I'm a bad (Bad, bad, and a wicked in bed)