[Hook: George Clinton]
Please! Relax! Cause everything is fine
Don't freak out (or we will judge?) your mind
We are here to stimulate the rhyme
Please! Relax! Cause everything is fine

[Verse 1: Gift of Gab]
Y'all all fall appalled and mauled - never stalled
On and on beyond songs peons long to bring on
Long winded aboard entering our yard
Y'all all look small and frivolous
Damn near nonexistent at all

All your songs belong in a
Porcelain pond (underneath me?)
Pom! Pom!
What're we on? Some other beyond
The champions
Rugged and strong we gunning for y'all
Comin' evolved youngin'

Awesome with no flaws in it
Sar-stunned (and a long-winded this?)
The authentic, raw vintage
Take my temperature hot into the dark
Up into the art the thick and hard senses performer
Omnipotent (law?) penmanship (partalker?) for this shit
Lost up in the (gaunt authentic ship?)
George would do when he was bit in the
August (fought like a dog that was a tom?) and
All the militant diligent (innocents?) involved
Extending my sentiment synonyms
Getting it from the wrong lyricists
I'm killing the ignorants I'm giving you more
To fear and I'm delivering venom right into your paws

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Lyrics Born]
The father of funk with the heir apparent
I'm the Godson of the funk ain't nobody parallelin'
I'm a ball of sweet sticky chunk like a caramel and
So saucy of the skunk - Cheech Marinera

Y'all ca't be serious, I'm a top ten lyricist
Tip-top of the pyramids, y'all down with the villagers
Don't sass your superior, shit runs downhill
I'm highly decorated, y'all decorate interiors

Apparently y'all ain't get the memo
So let me very clearly illustrate the penalty
For insultin' the sultan of funk and function
I'm hostin' a function I don't let you bums in

Posted I'm (drunk in my palms?) with the drums in
Don't know my lines I just know when to come in
Y'all obviously don't have the type of following it requires to dominate this properly
By now I got a monopoly
This is a place of peace and privacy
I'm a monk of the funk, this is my monastery
Peace, relax, cause everything is fine

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Lateef the Truthspeaker]
First - cut the drama
One thing you don't want's some whinin' mama
I'mma warn you not to take this any farther
Unless you wanna bear and witness to the trauma
Inflicted by the obit authors

Ask the doctors
Stressing it can lead to smoking Camels cigarettes unfiltered to the coffin
My advice, stop your jaw from moving
Stop the java
Try a little lavender, kava kava, marijuana
This'll be your prescription
Play it for your pharmacist and switch your addiction
Whatever it takes to get you calm or be funky

I go all war on you and start to bomb you
Give up the mic, become a farmer
The way you're on my dick, thought you could be a snake charmer
But I only play for the team that go for bombshells, pal
And in addition to rocking this mike I'm an MC embalmer
The working hands are calm and arms longer
That's what I strangle you with, mangle your neck
Dangerous, with the one-two check
I think you'd better respect this psycho's veteran sweat
When you start spittin' your best to clear the stage and your desk
We mopping all of your mess with the cleanness and freshness
Lyricism suggested as a method for resuscitation
All across the nation, play us if you're losing patience

[Hook]