Funky - Remix

Lyrics for Funky - Remix

I keep stamina, for a beat that's rockinable For you wack MC's, it's chockinable Bite the notes in quotes, analysis Home pissed as I disrespect you obedience But my rhymes correct you like a switch To a small mistake, I wax all of you And leave your ears to ache, you need Excedrin And some medicine, and for your brain What better sin stupid, now you picked your choice You didn't win now you're seeing my voice In the flesh, step out your radio No Illusions back in stereo So here we go as I step onto you I never knew you but my rhymes go through you like acid I burn your whole suit off I'm Heat Miser, and you're Rudolph For any date and time you wanna square off My rhymes are clippers, that cut your hair off The back the sides the top above your brain below your skull I step to ya cause you're plastic My mind is solid steel I make your dome piece spin like a windmill, slow I think it's time to go, I'm not havin it I tell a crowd of rappers, I need a whole stadium The Kingdome, an arena or Palladium Step off, while I walk on stage With a rhyme missile, cold blowin your ass up For better safety, leave your mask up Musically, I'm like lye in your face I drown meters with tons of bass You can't take it, the funky I make it With brick walls, you can't break it Toy boy, your beats annoyed I be a Jetson, smooth like Elroy Blast off, I pull your cells out of sockets A twelve gauge with rhymes I gotta cock it I'm deep fryin, chicken MC's fell off Recruited as a Boy Scout And now the sissy, becomes a Girl Scout Tryin to riff and lift and shift styles of mines On a wack-ass beat I keep it neat Write rhymes for your feet to shuffle Watch your shoes scuffle on down To the funky rhythm that I give 'em Ced Gee on the mic, I'm not havin it I'm not an average rapper, nobody's equal And for the biter, his beak will grow and grow and grow 'Til he finds out, he's not a pro Fessionally, up to par with myself No comp', I like to battle myself By myself, compete against myself Score myself, on this weak-ass chart How can a fool say he's on the top? Eight million rappers, my rhymes stop With lyric bombs, the wack ones drop like snowflakes They turn to cornflakes, my voice shakes Causin earthquakes in Michigan, parts of New York For local rappers ducks who try to hawk On the avenue, my rhymes are international Covering, worldly smotherin I'm brain bustin, so take a Bufferin Quick, until your knots start to heal And go down, and feel okay But like my son, you still obey Certain laws, a major is a factor I pull your skull out, move it with a tractor Diesel power, crushin MC's who try to talk And mix and change and bite the lyrics of a master I'm Kool Keith I'm not havin it