Bobyahed2dis

Bobyahed2dis Lyrics

Jeff Stewart]
And I say... right about now you are rockin with the best!
Can I get a hit? *inhale* *coughing* Thank you *coughing*
Who knows better than the Funkadelic devil himself
What you're about to experience is a walk on the Funkadelic side
Coming to you live and direct without further adieu
Come walk with Def Squad on the darkside
I bring to you Redman one more time
To all knotty head niggaz bob to this
[Redman]
This is Jeff Stewart and you know how I do it... god DAYAM!!!

So who's that funky nigga that's known to kick the fat sh*t?
The mirror said "You are, you conceited bastard"
Done by the dogcatcher, dogcatcher, it's the dogfetcher, I betcha
*cutting and scratching of bastard*
Aahhhhhhhhhhh, with the slang
Get you coughed up from the weed it'll bust your brain
The top notch of hip-hop and I'm on the charts
I'm catchin applause when I rock the micr*phone from the heart
As you can see, I drop funk bars from here to Mars
My style's foul, so look into the eyes of Lorimars
Still rollin down the highway wit my forty between my lap b**ch
Crossin DTW, coming into my lap and
Boy my skills are stacks, I love to do it from the back
My style swarms over ghettoes like crack
As long as we both got, it don't matter who's gun bigger
Blow in any hood and puff a blunt with any nigga
But I bet you you can't do that, cause the multiplatinums
The funk is blowin wattage out your f**kin trunks
can't save your ass on the block, and you're f**ked if it ain't pop
Like peak Puma, I known to give a whole lots of lumps
Props I got, coming through your block nine cocked
My socks, even got three-eighty-nine shots
Don't press it, I hang em like them niggaz do in Texas
You don't have no heart you chestless, 'cause your heart's on my necklace
I give props to real MC's like KRS-One
Kool G Rap, Buckshot, Busta me and I'm from
The East coast!! Where a nigga like you get that fat?
And since you came out gassed, well I'm closin your gas cap
Represent New Jersey, keep your eyes up on the bleacher
The creature, from the deeper, ultimate funk freaker
Lord have mercy! It's too much funk to cope with
A menace like Dennis, I got game like Ennis
I can french-kiss my lyrics, then I run trains with sentence
Droppin dope sh*t after dope sh*t, we're atrocious
And I don't have to be a Special Ed to get dumb That's from the lungs, that rings from here to kingdom come