| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 3:11 | 
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One, two, three and I come with the redneck style
'cause you know I get paid by the mile, like Avis I pave this, Fast save this, everybody smile. . . And act gracious see I rob banks, I pull pranks, sometimes I eat franks and knishes,best wishes, I'm vicious but here I am again like CNN. Delivery my friend. Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal (2x) Yes we bug a lot and my friends is loud and. . . I'm more freaky than Disco 2000 I scream, I yell, I bark, I bite I'll hit you with an egg on a hot summer night I never let the cops get wind of me and I never, ever, ever say die I never take myself too seriously 'Cause everybody knows fat birds don't fly Stick'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal (4x) The Fun Lovin' Criminal (3x) Means with the green, murder on your spleen living in a dream do you know what I mean goateed indeed, smart like John Steed I'll steal your girlie and I'll steal your weed I got so much flavor that I'll always leave you chewin' I got so many styles you'll be thinking I'm from the U.N. I broke into the White House and never got caught and I'd be Neil Armstrong if I was an astronaut I am always optimistic about human relations I got more friends than my man Peter Gatien We're always fun loving, so don't start bugging If your girlie comes up and starts kissing and hugging Stick'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal (4x) |
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| 2. |
| 3:33 |
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I'm a nicely zooted new car owner, and I'm somewhat convoluted
because I'm living in a coma I render those useless who pinch off my trim, Your light they are on but your lights they are dim I got the bushmill shots, and cops that give me props I got the Motts, Spike, I got the Motts. Having fun with my gun, son, its always loaded and the FLC is raw y'all not candy coated. Cooling on the block With my case of Rolling Rock Thinking up the schemes to get ourselves the knot cause you know we love to get down and party with the big boys They asked me to be mayor, and if I had a choice I love you people and my boys love you too, So fuck the king of beers this ones for you. So if grunts from stunts is what you want say, "ow" the FLC with the mucho grande style You know you can't boom with a bullshit system and you can't fix a man when he's broke. You know you can't max if you don't pay the tax and you can't wax the man if you choke. You know the funk I drop is wild just like Aretha beltin', My shit is going fast, so get your second helping, My brain cells are dying, young women are crying, but I keep on trying, Like my man Jack Ryan. You see my man is in my fae as if he has been drinking They say that he needs space but I know what he is thinking We have a common bond the fact we all get lifted The rocks that hit our head have left us somewhat gifted Its the Fun Lovin' Criminal out to represent I know its tough being hard and politically correct So if grunts from stunts is what you want say, "ow" the FLC with the mucho grande style You know you can't boom with a bullshit system and you can't fix a man when he's broke. You know you can't max if you don't pay the tax and you can't wax the man if you choke |
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| 3. |
| 4:46 |
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I used to wear dress blues, I used to get my cues from the dudes in
D.C. with the wing tip shoes. My boss said it was Parris or Prison, the judge said son you better make a decision. I chose the former because I heard it was warmer, April in Parris, hell south of the border. They put me together, tougher than leather. Set me on your ass because they didn't know better. Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on. I hold the fort left, right and center the number running hardass punk, flygirl bender. Check the photo finish I'm in this to satisfy parole, not posing or playing the role, see I got more gumbas than Bobby De Niro and if I was you I'd act like Nixon and Spiro. So smoke your pot and drink your rock and chill where it's shady. I got more endurance than In-A-Gadda- Da-Vida baby. Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on. Up to no good, with no place to go but down. . . Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on |
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| 4. |
| 3:04 |
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Me and Fast got the gats; we're out to rob a bank.
We got Steve outside carrying a full pack. Now everything's cool and everything's smooth. (Hey that's smooth) I walked up to the teller, I gave her the letter She gave me the loot with puckered up lips and a wink that I found cute, and I said, "baby, baby, baby" (Is this some Kharmic-Chi love thing happening here baby or what.) By that time Fast tapped me with the 9 he said it was time to blow, ya know. So out the door we go. Back to the ride with Steve inside and alive; off we drive I hurt my lower lumbar, you know we'll never get far, riding around in a stolen police car, so we dropped it off and piled in a Caddy; Steve was driving because I had to talk to my man about something. - Look, I don't know anything about any fucking set-up, you can torture me all you want. - Torture you, that's good, that's a good idea, I like that one. Running around robbing banks all wacked off of Scooby Snacks! (2x) I don't give a fuck about the hell's gate, ain't punkin' the crowd and I'm still standing up staight. So, we pull these jobs to make a little money; no one gets hurt if they don't act funny. On the way to the yacht, we almost got caught, fast is shooting mailboxes, not knowing where the cop is. They're at the Dunkin Donuts, adjacent from the Froman's whose mailbox fast had just exploded. They gave chase, but my man Steve is an ace; we lost those brothers with haste. We cast off and along we went off Bermuda to an island resort we rented. - Sonny, I need you cool, are you cool? - I am cool. Running around robbing banks all wacked off of Scooby Snacks! (4x |
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| 5. |
| 4:45 |
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Hey muneka, I think I wanna take ya
back to the lab, with my gift of gab and a little dab'll do ya, maybe even school ya, I'll rush your end zone like my man Don Shula you're my four leaf clover even bending over; I love you like rover; I'm your little lawnmower but, lower, lower, I'm the seed sower the funky weed grower, the mad rap thrower. See, I'm a man's man; do you understand? What I'm giving ain't cocked in the palm of my hand. So take the nasty plunge plaid not grunge. I know it's really hard when you love someone. You always stood by me like Spanky did Stymiey and if anybody messes I'll bust'em in the eye. And check that ass like Phil Esposito the guido, U.P.S. next day back to Toledo. Smoke 'em if ya gottem, if ya ain't gottem then ya hit rock bottom. Me and my Les Paul is out droppin' science pocket full of blunts and a full carry license never walking streets, lookin' past my shouler acting kinda bolder since my dog got older; I walked the walk and I aced the test when I put the pressure on all your tendencies manifest I'm a half spick peckerwood talkin' to the dead I'll break into your house and I'll smell your bed. Smoke 'em if ya gottem, if ya ain't gottem then ya hit rock bottom |
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| 6. |
| 3:51 |
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Bombin' the L (12x)
Lord, I can't change (2x) I usta more ya yo than Phizer Pharmaceuticals paid my way through college, and still had residuals Moved more wait than arnold on steriods shot more punks than rocks in asteroids caught more heat than Aruba in August Never spilled the beans when the cops finally caught us All my liquid assets are flowing like a stream and my fingers are faster than Yngwie Malmstein Everybody round me making money I see everybody round me making money Why can't I? Lord, I can't change (4x) I get my macaroni salad from Dean and Deluca and I top my red death with the white Zambuca stick up kid yeah, without no errors I'm smashing twelve hundreds on sucker rhyme sayers Like Hendrix I freak you, like Tito I treat you Bombin' Tha "L" i see you You freak, you coochie frito ! There's something about a train! Lord, I can't change (8x) Bombin' the L (14x) Lord, I can't change (11x) |
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| 7. |
| 4:24 |
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They try to move us; to use us
like Judas did Jesus; to please us Diverting the issues to misuse the peoples How are we gonna get 'em? How are we gonna vote them out? When the wingtips got it locked up With one thing you don't know. Ya dig it? The freaking wingtips did it. But some of us are wise and some of us are suckers. . . And we all bleed red even racist motherfuckers. And I can't get with that. No I can't get with that (2x) I said: No, I can't get with that No I can't get with that (2x) (3x) I see the hoes and the hustlers be piled up in clusters since they upped the anti, and hooked up Giuliani and the black kill the black and Latino kill Latino; man it's evil. . . The same damn story and a sequel I thought I fought for what was right, but in the end, my friend, 20-20 is hindsight. I think I caught you out there chillin in the Bahamas. I take you to Miami to meet the Dalai Lama. And I can't get with that. No I can't get with that (2x) I said: No, I can't get with that No I can't get with that (2x) (5x |
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| 8. |
| 3:46 |
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Franky was a mook from the block we used to live on
The wanna be gangster; The wanna be dapper Don, Don John on the wall, I'm your biggest fan next to my little brother Paul. Losing his grip, like Pesci, he'd flip if you talk to his brother he says they always planned this trip he wasn't oky-dokie running around like Don Quixote, trying to free a man he didn't even know B. He had the roots he bought the suits but the boys didn't like him mto tell you the truth he had "J.G." on his pinky ring and he lied about doin' some time up in sing-sing he flipped one fine summer afternoon he told his brother Paulie, something had to be done soon. He took Paulie and a couple of boys and jacked the Coup de Ville to Illinois. La-di da-di, free John Gotti, "The King of New York" He got a clipper from a stripper, he met at a club two sticks of dynamite and a .38 Snub he tried to see the Don, without an invitation stood outside the gate with his three man demonstartion waving picket signs, the C.O. saw a nine; and only Paulie go away with the skin on his behind. Back in the borough the cops are acting thorough; they raided Franky's room and then they saw his bureau; upon it was a note, with a rhyme that was dope, about how he was breaking John out and how he couldn't cope. It sait, "I don't fly coach, never save the roach, The King of New York". La-di da-di, free John Gotti, "The King of New York |
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| 9. |
| 3:41 |
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We have all the time in the world.
Time enough for life to unfold all the precious things life has in store. And we got all the love in the world. And as time goes by you will find we need nothing more. And every step of the way we'll find us with the kiss of the world behind us. And we got all the time in the world for love. Nothing more, nothing less, only love. (2x) Only love, yeah baby. |
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| 10. |
| 3:27 |
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We got the crazy crew
you think you coming we say- "na na na" we got the block locked up The foes that oppose me by proxy, They try to get foxy They try to rock me They say they got the 40 cal glok With the 30 round clip and they losing their damn grip. . . Well, I came back from hell so God damn fit I'll bust your lip, and make you strip You can play them games but don't play'em in my park I'll spill a wild bill, before you get out you Town Car ranting and raving, claiming you're armed I'll do the hit myself and then eat a chicken parm mackin' like bumpy, the business is boomin' I'll chop your ass up like I was Jimmy Coonan the westy, honey don't test me! Ooooh - I just ate 5 blotters and things are gettin' kinda wacked! If you can't live the lie, let it die and if you can't live a life full of strife just say oops! And jump through hoops, and get to the end of the line. We got the crazy crew you think you coming we say- "na na na" we got the block locked up I got bear huge for my brothers and I got no love for the others c'mon kids, you ain't built for bids You'll get jacked in the ass like a sucker "mucho dinero" the man with the hat said he changed his mind once the crack in his head bled movin' and shakin' the brittle illusion referring, concurring, and workin' out solutions If you can't live the lie, let it die and if you can't live a life full of strife just say oops! And jump through hoops, and get to the end of the line. Know your man, know his game, don't be ashamed from where you came, if you ask me, I'd rather have money than fame. We got the crazy crew you think you coming we say- "na na na" we got the block locked up |
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| 11. |
| 4:19 |
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Hemlock five caugt me out there later on
It's the girl I told the man, but he swore he'd prove me wrong Not seeing as I saw it as I gazed at the skyline Someone dropped me a dime, someone took the time I'm not a man with a grasp on reality Kerouac is wack but I'm down with Dostoevsky Sugar's got my back plus Baretta .380's One of which I dropped as the man tried to bait me. Come on, find yourself. Its you, its always been you, its always been in you. Now don't get it messed up, they got me all dressed up. To feed me to the fishes, I use my mojo for the loco I know the soft machine and its goings ons and I'll be damned if the man's gonna spill me You wanna see me go wild and crazy, I'm sorry man but your threats don't phase me. You covered the ground but you'tr lazy. Come on contest me. Come on, find yourself. Its you, its always been you, its always been in you |
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| 12. |
| 3:19 |
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I pity the punks that partake in the madness
Yangin' the young for their products and profit The pushers keep pushin' on D and on Jump Street Pushin' the passive pill, so ya don't need kids makin' bids with their nine's in their goose downs 'Cause college is pricey and some brothers ain't got none You try to discern between truth and suggestion but they bid for your ID via fear of rejection All I see is outfits and attitudes, congenial criminality The hidden agenda is a psychic necessity Hungry minds so sad in the hearts of darkness manifesting some sort of natural impatience Deaf MacBeth, scar city, the slasher Enveloping the b-boy, the doper, the thrasher Looking to be judged but when judged by the book Son you're running to the hook Back with the funk hits, Uncle Huey is back with the funk hits, and the F.L.C. is coming to grips with a fist full of funk hits I got the feel good hit of the year, I got two thumbs up and I stuck'em in his ear. The man stepped to me, he wouldn't let it end though, so I threw his ass out the Roxy Deli window I ain't pushin' no party, I ain't meddlin' in Saudi, but i think it's fucked up, what the federal has laid on me I've been watchin' the news, you're forcing people to choose between the lesser of two evils; my red, white, and blue The deceiver's deceiving because the people believe him Soon the troops'll be bleedin' and their mama's will be grieving So keep on payin' your taxes, when you don't know the facts Let the contracts get backed, while your conscience relaxes |
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| 13. |
| 4:04 |
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In methadonia, they weeble and they wobble
but they don't fall down You see, the fed has got their back and they say it's better than crack, plus it keeps them mellow and passive. . . And takes them to the land of Methadonia. There are three around my way, all day I see them stray, up the block and down the stairs, comin' in groups and leaving in pairs like suckers. With their weeks supply I and I see them selling the elixir of life And takes them to the land of Methadonia. I see you hangin' on my stoop, you better swoop before I do, some jammies in your eye because the place in which you're sent by your liquid orange friend has kept you from it for so long And takes them to the land of Methadonia |
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