[Verse One: Mr. Funkee]
Before I start this jam
Hold up, let me tell you who I am
I'm Mr. Funkee
AKA The Motherfucking Man
That's right the man
Girlfriend got her knocked up
Big money clocker, Chief Rocka, boot knocker
MC's are on their knees, MC's I'm locking 'em in my trunk and
The Funk is no punk and I kick Donuts like Dunkin'
People scream "Oooh aah" because what the Lords did
I'm liver than 355 newborn kids
Then somebody tests me, there's guaranteed a trial
They gotta burn like the [?] to be half as good as I am
So bottom line look out for [?] and try to test me and
Funkee Man will walk all over your ass like a pedestrian
Not the type of kid that you get over on brother
You talk about me? I talk about your mother
No need to sweat a record, Funkee Man packs mad skills
I got a book of rhymes that stretch from here to the Catskill's
I guess you thought you scared me with your ass like hokey spooky
You need to get a Pamper, cause the stuff you wrote was dookie
I know that when you wanted to touch the vital part [?]
As soon as you open your mouth your breath starts stinking
Sorry you've been had, see my style is simply mad
If rap was parenthood, you might have to call me dad
Or grandpop, my [stamina] is crazy long and I'm
Hoping to make you part of this cause yo you ain't that fly