CHORUS
FOR EVERY LYRIC THAT I WRITE, FOR EVERYTIME I
HOLD THE MIC TIGHT AND CREATE A CROWD HYPE
I GOT THE STAMINA TO BLAZE FOR DAYS
GIVING PLEASUE TO YOUR PEEPS AND THIS IS WHAT THEY SAY
AND I JUST LOVE YOUR JAZZY WAYS (REPEAT X4)
VERSE ONE
I be the hip the hop you don't stop the rock
To the bang, bang boogie say up jumps the what
Taking my tone to your dome even on your own
Making you feel like you aint alone like you've got a clone
Sitting on your throne with stereo headphones
While the beat I represent with gets embedded in your bones
I can't be overthrown whether you're known or unknown
The rhymes you're spitting son, I simply can't condone
See you get blown like a cyclone, and break your backbone
Better watch out you don't need a tombstone
With weekend visit's from your cousin Tyrone
Who you once disowned because you heard he used to take hormones
Wearing fake cologne from Rome, rhyming in a baritone
Down a secondhand Dictaphone
So I hold the microphone and amplify like a megaphone
Air flows out of my lungs, rattles my collarbone
And translates that into words to make a vocal tone
Which cuts the air like notes blown from out a saxophone
Yo word is born, I'm trying to rock on and make corn
It's time I took it there it's been too long
CHORUS
VERSE TWO
Sometimes the people say, "Your beats are head rockers"
With more kicks than a stock room at Footlocker
And more snares than a fox hunt in any nation
And more hi hats than tall men at graduation
And more horns than a herd of bulls in Spain
And more keys than a piano, so remember the name
It's DL baby, raw rugged hip-hop
24 carat like a rare gold nugget
What of it? Dope beats and rhymes yo I love it
I put nothing above it, because man should not covet
Yo buy this at your local record store because I won't profit
If you hear this on the radio and just decide to dub it
I'd take a major record deal but never be puppet
Sell out for two singles then my whole career plummets
Then everyday I walk the streets feeling sick to the stomach
So have to hide away and live my life up in a hummock yo,
That aint me, that aint Funky D
That aint the Imma, Imma, Imma H.A.C. yo
So turn the volume up and sing to the song
Funky D is back with it and it's been to long, what
CHORUS
FOR EVERY LYRIC THAT I WRITE, FOR EVERYTIME I
HOLD THE MIC TIGHT AND CREATE A CROWD HYPE
I GOT THE STAMINA TO BLAZE FOR DAYS
GIVING PLEASUE TO YOUR PEEPS AND THIS IS WHAT THEY SAY
AND I JUST LOVE YOUR JAZZY WAYS (REPEAT X4)
VERSE ONE
I be the hip the hop you don't stop the rock
To the bang, bang boogie say up jumps the what
Taking my tone to your dome even on your own
Making you feel like you aint alone like you've got a clone
Sitting on your throne with stereo headphones
While the beat I represent with gets embedded in your bones
I can't be overthrown whether you're known or unknown
The rhymes you're spitting son, I simply can't condone
See you get blown like a cyclone, and break your backbone
Better watch out you don't need a tombstone
With weekend visit's from your cousin Tyrone
Who you once disowned because you heard he used to take hormones
Wearing fake cologne from Rome, rhyming in a baritone
Down a secondhand Dictaphone
So I hold the microphone and amplify like a megaphone
Air flows out of my lungs, rattles my collarbone
And translates that into words to make a vocal tone
Which cuts the air like notes blown from out a saxophone
Yo word is born, I'm trying to rock on and make corn
It's time I took it there it's been too long
CHORUS
VERSE TWO
Sometimes the people say, "Your beats are head rockers"
With more kicks than a stock room at Footlocker
And more snares than a fox hunt in any nation
And more hi hats than tall men at graduation
And more horns than a herd of bulls in Spain
And more keys than a piano, so remember the name
It's DL baby, raw rugged hip-hop
24 carat like a rare gold nugget
What of it? Dope beats and rhymes yo I love it
I put nothing above it, because man should not covet
Yo buy this at your local record store because I won't profit
If you hear this on the radio and just decide to dub it
I'd take a major record deal but never be puppet
Sell out for two singles then my whole career plummets
Then everyday I walk the streets feeling sick to the stomach
So have to hide away and live my life up in a hummock yo,
That aint me, that aint Funky D
That aint the Imma, Imma, Imma H.A.C. yo
So turn the volume up and sing to the song
Funky D is back with it and it's been to long, what
CHORUS