|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
1:38 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
1:57 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - 60 Minutes Of Funk, Volume Ⅳ : The Mixtape (2000)
(Funkmaster Flex)
Yeah - keep it moving, get it bouncing Funk Flex - you know how the f**k I get down Shout to The Tunnel nigga You know I mean - you know how I do each and every Sunday Shout to Franchise - shout to my nigga Pete (???) Sixty minutes of Funk volume four - In Essence LETS GO BABAY! (In Essence) You will never find another lover like (mine) You will never find another lover like (mine) You will never find another love to cum and when its done you'll never find another lover like (mine, you will never find) You will never find another lover like (mine) You will never find another lover like (mine, oh) You will never find another love to cum and when its done you'll never find another lover like (check this) I was at two thirty-third and White Plains Me and my boy - we was riding the train I saw you! (saw you) Whoa - oh ohh You were with - (Robby) and (Robby) and (Mike - are those the type of guys that you like?) I know you feel me Was what you want will never be, you'll never find You will never find another lover like (no!) You will never find another lover like (noo!) You will never find another love to cum and when its done you'll never find another lover like (you'll never find) You will never find another lover like (oh, ohhh) You will never find another lover like (nooo) You will never find another love to cum and when its done you'll never find another lover like (ah) I heard he's paying your bills Tell me can you give me those thrills My love (my love) is better (is better) never (never) measure (measure) (Fall and hard and why? You'll never find a love like mine) I know you heard me, cause what you want he'll never be! You will never find another lover like (mine) You will never find another lover like (mine) You will never find another love to cum and when its done you'll never find another lover like (mine, never find!) You will never find another lover like (mine, oh no) You will never find another lover like (mine, no) You will never find another love to cum and when its done you'll never find another lover like (mine) |
|||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001) | |||||
|
3:02 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Tunnel (2001) | |||||
|
4:07 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - 60 Minutes Of Funk, Volume Ⅳ : The Mixtape (2000)
(feat. Eminem)
[Chorus: Eminem] My words are weapons I use 'em to crush my opponents My words are weapons I never show no emotion My words are weapons I use 'em to kill whoever's steppin to me My words are like weaponry on a record My words are weapons I use 'em to crush my opponents These words are weapons I never did show no emotion My words are weapons I use 'em to kill whoever's steppin to me My words are like weaponry on a record [Eminem] Yo, the rage I release on a page Is like a demon unleashed in a cage Lunatic, soon as I hit the stage My mind is like a fuckin stick of dynamite Onen I get behind the mic It's like the wick is lit you bitches die tonight My nine is like a guidin light at night shinin bright My fuckin grip is tighter than my wife's vagina, psych These cock-suckin cops got my Smith-N-Wesson I guess it's time to pick a different weapon, man the shit's depressin But Swift is getting me a new one for a Christmas present (Swift: "Come on Slim, let's go and teach this fuckin bitch a lesson") They managed to confiscate the pistol that I brandish But my plan is to use this bullshit to my advantage Shady stay creative baby hold your head up, don't you let up One bit on these motherfuckin suckers you're a soldier +GET UP+ STAND UP FOR WHAT YOU BELIEVE IN, LONG AS YOU BREATHIN THEY JEALOUS OF YOU MAN THAT'S THE ONLY REASON THEY BEEFIN! [Chorus] [Swifty McVeigh] It's that Dirty Dozen renegade You done pulled the pin out my grenade .38'sll move your shit up out the way You niggas wont forget about McVeigh; you got somethin to say? Let it out today or watch these bullets spray From these ten black fingers huggin these deadly millimeters That'll make Jeff Dahmer's look like he caught a misdemeanor See I'm +Dirty+, so I ain't gotta buy a pistol cleaner An official beater, don't let me see you with yo' heater You gets whipped with it, tell them motherfuckers Swift did it You packin somethin special in your crib then bitch get it I'm physically fitted to run yo' digits, I'm hostile (uh-huh) With this Roscoe pointed up your nostrils You get splitted and guess what, I'm blowin up the hospital And wouldn't give a fuck if you a cop or a hoe I'm Hannibal Lector, the spinal cord disconnector Findin whores to lock 'em up in motels to inject 'em [Chorus] [Bizarre] I'm eatin crews like I'm Hannibal There's no way I can be the gay rapper (Eminem: Why not?) I only fuck animals (Oh! Ha-ha) Stupid trick got my dick startin to itch Went to my mother's grave site, called her a stupid bitch One on one in this bloodsport I'm in divorce court, sold my bitch off a pack of Newports (Your honor!) Six times I been arrested; how would you feel If you was a Jehovah witness that always got molested? (It happens) I'm smokin dank drikin drank I can't have any kids cause I'm fuckin shootin blanks! Don't you know Bizarre don't give a fuck?! Nicole's a whore - I'm glad O.J. murdered the slut (uhh!) Responsibility - I'm negligent Bill Clinton's a fag, should be stabbed Let Richard Simmons be the President (ohh HEYY!!) Call me a weirdo, call me Bi-zarre While I stick it up yo' ass while you shittin diarrhea [Chorus] [Eminem] Yo! |
|||||
|
- |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001)
(Rampage)
It's Atiya, Richard of Flatbush Speak up The word on the street is the Rampage return Uh (Busta) Hah, one time, two times, three times (no doubt), four times All my real live soldiers throw your hands up All my real live women throw your hands up All my real strong bustas throw your hands up All my real live players throw your hands up Hah! (Rampage) Check it out, like this y'all The heavyweight Brooklyn bomber that can't rest Love success, I'm gettin money progress Travellin for free from state to state That's how I get my idea to create I'm live motivate, I keep on movin, it's been FUBU I make Def Jams like Rick Rubin I stay on my tippy toes wreckin shows, I'm too slow You can't peep my ill flow in this Burning Zone Keep low like an Eskimo Askin' people, still carry my flow, open the do' It's the real outlaw, from Flatbush to South Shore Givin you more and more I just came home from tour It's my time to burn to explore I'm comin through the floor with Low X I'm fully gassed to the max movin stacks, no fakin jacks I'm the baddest man on the wax Messin around with my Squad, you get taxed Shittin' Ex-Lax, on hot tracks, I can't relax Breakin' backs, with my NFL Quarterbacks Flipmode deep we bring good things to light Put down your gun and light I'm in it to win it plus I'm wildin for da night (Busta) All my muthaf**kas in the place to be you feel right, throw your hands up WE GETTIN WILD FOR DA NIGHT Niggas in the place, if you wanna fight Serious let's get busy cause we WILD FOR DA NIGHT My Flipmode niggas gettin WILD FOR DA NIGHT Niggas in New York gettin WILD FOR DA NIGHT My niggas in the West gettin WILD FOR DA NIGHT |
|||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001) | |||||
|
5:24 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - 60 Minutes Of Funk, Volume Ⅳ : The Mixtape (2000)
(Noreaga - talking)
Lets keep it grimy! (get with that shit) What y'all niggaz get man? What y'all gets murder unit (murder unit) or burn unit (burn unit) Get a real f**kin life unit (real life f**kin unit) A real unit; a motherf**kin, CNN shit (CNN!) My nigga Swift on the motherf**kin fours (fours) We thugged out y'all (what!) Yo, yo.. we thugged out y'all! (Chorus: Capone-N-Noreaga) (N) I say I don't really give a f**k (C) Why do don't really give the f**k? (N) Cause I don't really give a f**k (C) So we don't really give the f**k (N) You gon' roll with me? (C) Hell yeah (N) What son what!? You gon' roll with me? (C) Hell yeah (N) What son what!? You gon' roll with me? (C) Hell yeah (N) What son what!? You gon' ride with me? (C) Hell yeah (N) What son what!? You gon' die with me? (C) Hell yeah (N) What son what!? (Capone) Right every bill I stack another war, story and track Settle down for money; hungry cats peddle the crack Some strive to be the man but never make it that's the granted further What part you playin the game, who gonna slash worker Some'll pray to Jesus, I pray to Jes to free us Don't look for bail Rufus bail Criminal Court When a judge holla Father you sure? Cats never sent a nigga to jail, they send him bail I been as real as I stealin free lunch I got the greats from this old man give me hearse and, I made a move from a plan scauwered new land (f**k a blue van) My shoes bang, ficticious niggaz, walk in the path that I lead (I lead) Do crime in New York, money and murder Gentleman talk, ball like Atlanta Hawk No respect, this on the stacks of the court I started off in the street thing, triple it's on (Chorus) (M.A.Z.E.) Ya niggaz livin a lie, spittin the same Its no room, no BI for y'all in the game See me I, stay where it pop Off the chain like my diss and it rocks Movin the same is the strippin the spot I'm hot, rock glizzery from the bottom to top Grizzy, don't let it pop, didn't he spy on these hoes To piss off the killer in me Me and six will slick through it (through it) Bronx river to the con do it I see Don P calm as me, like spazin dead on your cheek Like green to my eye, shit, write it down sincere Get to say my name in the air Niggaz pipe down, put they mic down Niggaz scared that we ain't even drop yet Yet this year we show ya all who the hottest (hottest) The projects, I rep to my death (rep it nigga!) X'd out hoes, we regulate (X'd out hoes!) We ain't sharin or fillin 'boes; see how we go? (Chorus) - with Noreaga adlibs (Noreaga) Keep the Mac under the seat To fast niggaz ready to creep And my niggaz stayin with heat Like the hook go - what son what!? Like the shit go - what son what!? See me in the hood though With a hood though, with a little puppet And we doing no good though Pussy sub, pussy sub, through the club Niggaz don't need no math I rather, get head, I don't need no ass F**k all of y'all, y'all don't really rep for me I mean you, and you ain't the set for me I'm in different vicinities, gettin high with your enemies So niggaz better stop playin Before I get the M-One and just start sprayin Keep your block on lock, so now you go Nigga, I sell bricks like my name Alpo (Chorus) (Mussolini) It's no rumor what you hear about us in clubs Or freight some young Blood No vest protect the shot for your mug Snake niggaz hear the move, every chance they get Rap niggaz I'ma dead 'em on the advance they get Hustlin niggaz, I catch y'all Uptown Soon as papi hit you, I'm right behind you holding it down Ya niggaz, got it confused Pop bottles and boo's Might fit, make you come out of your jewels A little more richer Every sixteenth spit a little more sicker Rap for M.A.Z.E. cause that's my nigga I spit it for the streets My bitches and freaks, lacking four to twenty G's Thugging every week, stylin out, Violator I'm wildin out MU and thugged out, them hoes talkin about We off the yell dogg, the entire know this song Cause me and M.A.Z.E. bet fire, thugged out strong, motherf**ker (Chorus) (Norega) Huh? Huh? We say what son what!? Huh? What? Yeah (stop playing.. motherf**ker) Yeah, yeah; we say what son what!? Huh? Huh? Yeah, yeah; we say what son what!? Huh? Huh? Huh? Yeah yeah, we say what son what!? Burn unit, burn unit; my nigga Swift on the motherf**kin four's What what? {*Noreaga continues to adlib in background*} (Funkmaster Flex - over end of Noreaga) Yeah, Capone-N-Nore baby! Thugged Out! Shout to Martin Moore Shout to my man Gina Things is happenin baby Sixty Minutes of Funk Volume Four (okay) Shout to Irv Gotti (ill sound, murder) |
|||||
|
4:23 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Tunnel (2001) | |||||
|
4:26 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Car Show (2005) | |||||
|
3:25 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Car Show (2005) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
1:27 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - 60 Minutes Of Funk, Volume Ⅳ : The Mixtape (2000)
(feat. Bad Seed)
(The Bad Seed) Uh Let's go Here we go, uh Here we go y'all Here we go y'all Once again, yeah Who better nigga Let's go Nope, I never got locked up Never got shot up But fuck around though Beat your whole damn block up Find your bitch knocked up Cee keep it cocked up I'm sick call the doctor Beat the shit out ya Beef I don't sweat that Niggaz wanna dead that They come home, find a bullet in they girl head rack UHHNNH How you love that What happened to dem thug cats With all the gats niggaz gettin in club at Now I done fucked up I done caught y'all frontin Get your jaw tapped up Get your chin bone buzzin You can't squad me Now your all alone cousin The kids got no pops, wife no husband God damn shame though It's not a game though Why y'all act like you don't know my fuckin name though It's BAD SEED Style off the chain yo Only close my eyes when I'm gettin brains yo It's like UHHNNH Thought it was a game huh Didn't know the name huh UHHNNH It's like (it's like) UHHNNH Still for the kids though Niggaz let your clips off UHHNNH It's like UHHNNH Bitches take your thong off Shake yo stank ass baby girl it's a song off It's like (it's like) UHHNNH Meet me at the ballcourt Blow shorty back out till she had to crawl out (crawl out) |
|||||
|
3:08 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Car Show (2005) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from The Fast And The Furious Soundtrack Collection (분노의 질주: 콜렉션) [omnibus, ost] (2015) | |||||
|
2:43 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Tunnel (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
1:15 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
5:24 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Tunnel (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001) | |||||
|
0:43 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - 60 Minutes Of Funk, Volume Ⅳ : The Mixtape (2000)
[Funkmaster Flex]
Oh shit, shoutout to f**king Queens baby (To all the killers and the hundred dollar billers) [DMX] All my niggas get down like what All my niggas get down like what All my niggas get down like what, get down like what, get down like what All my niggas get down like what All my niggas get down like what All my niggas get down like what, get down like, down like, down like what All my niggas get down like what All my niggas get down like what All my niggas get down like what, get down like what, get down like what All my niggas get down like what All my niggas get down like what All my niggas get down like what, spit that hydro ghetto shit |
|||||
|
2:39 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - 60 Minutes Of Funk, Volume Ⅳ : The Mixtape (2000) | |||||
|
2:23 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - 60 Minutes Of Funk, Volume Ⅳ : The Mixtape (2000)
(feat. Nature)
Turn your Radios Up, Turn Your Radios Up This that one right here I was telling yall niggas about That Nature shit (Queens Bridge) That Flex shit (We gonna beat yall in yall fucking heads) That direct shit [verse 1] A yo, a yo, a yo, a yo, I rock a short sleeve shirts and long sleeve shirts Your freestyles hot though you songs need work. Ya shit stay in the hood while my songs leave earth Every 16 I drop a concrete verse. Smack is just like a brick to a skull more slicker that dull Queens bridge nigga hit you for sure. Change the locks on your door niggas still get through It ain't a muthafucking thing I ain't willing to do (home boy) It ain't no killer in you ya hand cuffed F there (???) don't make me tear that ass up We could do it all day until we winded or injured Sit back and have a few drinks and maybe She pushed the issue I push you deep in grave Wilder than a Puerto Rican parade Keep the thing wit me all the time even when I'm going to court I'm prepared I don't know what you thought Yall don't here me though [chorus x1] Never been afraid, nigga never once told Catch me in the projects in you want cold Catch me in the mic room if you want hits so what you want bitch I know you want this [verse2] A yo A yo A yo I know the roaches get big, the showers stay cold The clinic stay packed, the power stay sold Niggas showing off no matter how much they sold Fuck the cops, they fowler than us and they know They just pick a nigga, cuff a nigga Run em in do the same to another nigga Once again it's a I S bill, we need Cockrine fierce(???) Yo we gotta do something Cause they not gonna fear us. Fuck that, my man Jay used to play for the Dogers Hurt his hand string now he watches Got hoes topless and other hoes totally nude But he keep them to his self and me supposed to be schooled Type of nigga that I'll show me the wolves and try to pet them Getting to hot I perspire venom I put the fire in them Make it so they never cool off And when the snow clears tell them who lost They don't hear me though [chorus x1] I know you want this I know you want this You know you need this What, Wild gremlins, 2000 Funk Flex, Queens Bridge Nature, Big Joey Yall niggas Know |
|||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001) | |||||
|
3:25 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Car Show (2005) | |||||
|
3:29 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
3:55 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Car Show (2005) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
1:04 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - Sad And Blue B/W Six Million Ways To Die (2007)
(feat. Nine, Tragedy)
[Nine] Pop goes the gat, I get over like a fat rat Funkmaster Flex and 9 Double M, mad fat Skills on the table and the mic With that (six million ways to die) flavor all night Clean up the cuss when I bust mother (woop) I'm on some new and improved shit, let me kick it Crazy motherfucker from the Boogie Down, brother I smack shit, flip shit, kick shit, I rap shit Flex on the wheels and I'm Nine Mil the gat That's how we roll, troop We give em 187 like Dre and Snoop Three little six little nine double M's Sticking up rappers like hems Back on the scene from the Bronx and I stomp nuff comp Six million ways to die, punk [Funkmaster Flex cuts and scratches] [Tragedy] I bring drama like you spit on my momma And get loose like the lips on Madonna You get the picture when the rap style hits ya I run on more niggas than the Jews at a Bar Mitzvah When I'm splashing my rap transaction Hard rocks turn white like Michael Jackson I blow spots and bust shots at hard rocks And leave you laying in a box with Red Foxx I keep wild like James Brown doing judo And have you making love songs like Menudo The Son of Sam when I aim for your head Jack the Ripper leave your whole town red You can't kill me because I'm already dead I drop flavor like a pack of Now & Laters And get loose like the feet on Sammy Davis You know my style, it's the hardcore rhymer Pass the mic and I get loose like a vagina [Funkmaster Flex on the ones and twos] [Nine] HOO HAH! I'm funky, so shut your face and let me rip it Like butter on a biscut, Nine Double M is wicked I put the funk in the place with a dunk in your face And watch you catch a knot like a shoelace I'm not the one that was begging for a nut like a squirrel That's like Farrakhan kissing a white girl I rag it like the Bloods and Crips I flip scripts, read my lips: I got mad skills for the no frills Screaming at girls to pay bills I got more rap than a Christmas gift And I'll fill your girl's mouth like grits Have her chewing while I'm ba-ba-ba booing It's back to the mic check, one two and Back up off the gat cause I snap necks Nine Double M, Tragedy, and Funkmaster Flex [Funkmaster Flex gets busy] |
|||||
|
1:51 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - Sad And Blue B/W Six Million Ways To Die (2007)
(feat. Nine, Tragedy)
[Nine] Pop goes the gat, I get over like a fat rat Funkmaster Flex and 9 Double M, mad fat Skills on the table and the mic With that (six million ways to die) flavor all night Clean up the cuss when I bust mother (woop) I'm on some new and improved shit, let me kick it Crazy motherfucker from the Boogie Down, brother I smack shit, flip shit, kick shit, I rap shit Flex on the wheels and I'm Nine Mil the gat That's how we roll, troop We give em 187 like Dre and Snoop Three little six little nine double M's Sticking up rappers like hems Back on the scene from the Bronx and I stomp nuff comp Six million ways to die, punk [Funkmaster Flex cuts and scratches] [Tragedy] I bring drama like you spit on my momma And get loose like the lips on Madonna You get the picture when the rap style hits ya I run on more niggas than the Jews at a Bar Mitzvah When I'm splashing my rap transaction Hard rocks turn white like Michael Jackson I blow spots and bust shots at hard rocks And leave you laying in a box with Red Foxx I keep wild like James Brown doing judo And have you making love songs like Menudo The Son of Sam when I aim for your head Jack the Ripper leave your whole town red You can't kill me because I'm already dead I drop flavor like a pack of Now & Laters And get loose like the feet on Sammy Davis You know my style, it's the hardcore rhymer Pass the mic and I get loose like a vagina [Funkmaster Flex on the ones and twos] [Nine] HOO HAH! I'm funky, so shut your face and let me rip it Like butter on a biscut, Nine Double M is wicked I put the funk in the place with a dunk in your face And watch you catch a knot like a shoelace I'm not the one that was begging for a nut like a squirrel That's like Farrakhan kissing a white girl I rag it like the Bloods and Crips I flip scripts, read my lips: I got mad skills for the no frills Screaming at girls to pay bills I got more rap than a Christmas gift And I'll fill your girl's mouth like grits Have her chewing while I'm ba-ba-ba booing It's back to the mic check, one two and Back up off the gat cause I snap necks Nine Double M, Tragedy, and Funkmaster Flex [Funkmaster Flex gets busy] |
|||||
|
0:59 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - Sad And Blue B/W Six Million Ways To Die (2007)
(feat. Nine, Tragedy)
[Nine] Pop goes the gat, I get over like a fat rat Funkmaster Flex and 9 Double M, mad fat Skills on the table and the mic With that (six million ways to die) flavor all night Clean up the cuss when I bust mother (woop) I'm on some new and improved shit, let me kick it Crazy motherfucker from the Boogie Down, brother I smack shit, flip shit, kick shit, I rap shit Flex on the wheels and I'm Nine Mil the gat That's how we roll, troop We give em 187 like Dre and Snoop Three little six little nine double M's Sticking up rappers like hems Back on the scene from the Bronx and I stomp nuff comp Six million ways to die, punk [Funkmaster Flex cuts and scratches] [Tragedy] I bring drama like you spit on my momma And get loose like the lips on Madonna You get the picture when the rap style hits ya I run on more niggas than the Jews at a Bar Mitzvah When I'm splashing my rap transaction Hard rocks turn white like Michael Jackson I blow spots and bust shots at hard rocks And leave you laying in a box with Red Foxx I keep wild like James Brown doing judo And have you making love songs like Menudo The Son of Sam when I aim for your head Jack the Ripper leave your whole town red You can't kill me because I'm already dead I drop flavor like a pack of Now & Laters And get loose like the feet on Sammy Davis You know my style, it's the hardcore rhymer Pass the mic and I get loose like a vagina [Funkmaster Flex on the ones and twos] [Nine] HOO HAH! I'm funky, so shut your face and let me rip it Like butter on a biscut, Nine Double M is wicked I put the funk in the place with a dunk in your face And watch you catch a knot like a shoelace I'm not the one that was begging for a nut like a squirrel That's like Farrakhan kissing a white girl I rag it like the Bloods and Crips I flip scripts, read my lips: I got mad skills for the no frills Screaming at girls to pay bills I got more rap than a Christmas gift And I'll fill your girl's mouth like grits Have her chewing while I'm ba-ba-ba booing It's back to the mic check, one two and Back up off the gat cause I snap necks Nine Double M, Tragedy, and Funkmaster Flex [Funkmaster Flex gets busy] |
|||||
|
3:47 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - Sad And Blue B/W Six Million Ways To Die (2007)
(feat. Nine, Tragedy)
[Nine] Pop goes the gat, I get over like a fat rat Funkmaster Flex and 9 Double M, mad fat Skills on the table and the mic With that (six million ways to die) flavor all night Clean up the cuss when I bust mother (woop) I'm on some new and improved shit, let me kick it Crazy motherfucker from the Boogie Down, brother I smack shit, flip shit, kick shit, I rap shit Flex on the wheels and I'm Nine Mil the gat That's how we roll, troop We give em 187 like Dre and Snoop Three little six little nine double M's Sticking up rappers like hems Back on the scene from the Bronx and I stomp nuff comp Six million ways to die, punk [Funkmaster Flex cuts and scratches] [Tragedy] I bring drama like you spit on my momma And get loose like the lips on Madonna You get the picture when the rap style hits ya I run on more niggas than the Jews at a Bar Mitzvah When I'm splashing my rap transaction Hard rocks turn white like Michael Jackson I blow spots and bust shots at hard rocks And leave you laying in a box with Red Foxx I keep wild like James Brown doing judo And have you making love songs like Menudo The Son of Sam when I aim for your head Jack the Ripper leave your whole town red You can't kill me because I'm already dead I drop flavor like a pack of Now & Laters And get loose like the feet on Sammy Davis You know my style, it's the hardcore rhymer Pass the mic and I get loose like a vagina [Funkmaster Flex on the ones and twos] [Nine] HOO HAH! I'm funky, so shut your face and let me rip it Like butter on a biscut, Nine Double M is wicked I put the funk in the place with a dunk in your face And watch you catch a knot like a shoelace I'm not the one that was begging for a nut like a squirrel That's like Farrakhan kissing a white girl I rag it like the Bloods and Crips I flip scripts, read my lips: I got mad skills for the no frills Screaming at girls to pay bills I got more rap than a Christmas gift And I'll fill your girl's mouth like grits Have her chewing while I'm ba-ba-ba booing It's back to the mic check, one two and Back up off the gat cause I snap necks Nine Double M, Tragedy, and Funkmaster Flex [Funkmaster Flex gets busy] |
|||||
|
3:46 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - Sad And Blue B/W Six Million Ways To Die (2007)
(feat. Nine, Tragedy)
[Nine] Pop goes the gat, I get over like a fat rat Funkmaster Flex and 9 Double M, mad fat Skills on the table and the mic With that (six million ways to die) flavor all night Clean up the cuss when I bust mother (woop) I'm on some new and improved shit, let me kick it Crazy motherfucker from the Boogie Down, brother I smack shit, flip shit, kick shit, I rap shit Flex on the wheels and I'm Nine Mil the gat That's how we roll, troop We give em 187 like Dre and Snoop Three little six little nine double M's Sticking up rappers like hems Back on the scene from the Bronx and I stomp nuff comp Six million ways to die, punk [Funkmaster Flex cuts and scratches] [Tragedy] I bring drama like you spit on my momma And get loose like the lips on Madonna You get the picture when the rap style hits ya I run on more niggas than the Jews at a Bar Mitzvah When I'm splashing my rap transaction Hard rocks turn white like Michael Jackson I blow spots and bust shots at hard rocks And leave you laying in a box with Red Foxx I keep wild like James Brown doing judo And have you making love songs like Menudo The Son of Sam when I aim for your head Jack the Ripper leave your whole town red You can't kill me because I'm already dead I drop flavor like a pack of Now & Laters And get loose like the feet on Sammy Davis You know my style, it's the hardcore rhymer Pass the mic and I get loose like a vagina [Funkmaster Flex on the ones and twos] [Nine] HOO HAH! I'm funky, so shut your face and let me rip it Like butter on a biscut, Nine Double M is wicked I put the funk in the place with a dunk in your face And watch you catch a knot like a shoelace I'm not the one that was begging for a nut like a squirrel That's like Farrakhan kissing a white girl I rag it like the Bloods and Crips I flip scripts, read my lips: I got mad skills for the no frills Screaming at girls to pay bills I got more rap than a Christmas gift And I'll fill your girl's mouth like grits Have her chewing while I'm ba-ba-ba booing It's back to the mic check, one two and Back up off the gat cause I snap necks Nine Double M, Tragedy, and Funkmaster Flex [Funkmaster Flex gets busy] |
|||||
|
3:45 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - Sad And Blue B/W Six Million Ways To Die (2007)
(feat. Nine, Tragedy)
[Nine] Pop goes the gat, I get over like a fat rat Funkmaster Flex and 9 Double M, mad fat Skills on the table and the mic With that (six million ways to die) flavor all night Clean up the cuss when I bust mother (woop) I'm on some new and improved shit, let me kick it Crazy motherfucker from the Boogie Down, brother I smack shit, flip shit, kick shit, I rap shit Flex on the wheels and I'm Nine Mil the gat That's how we roll, troop We give em 187 like Dre and Snoop Three little six little nine double M's Sticking up rappers like hems Back on the scene from the Bronx and I stomp nuff comp Six million ways to die, punk [Funkmaster Flex cuts and scratches] [Tragedy] I bring drama like you spit on my momma And get loose like the lips on Madonna You get the picture when the rap style hits ya I run on more niggas than the Jews at a Bar Mitzvah When I'm splashing my rap transaction Hard rocks turn white like Michael Jackson I blow spots and bust shots at hard rocks And leave you laying in a box with Red Foxx I keep wild like James Brown doing judo And have you making love songs like Menudo The Son of Sam when I aim for your head Jack the Ripper leave your whole town red You can't kill me because I'm already dead I drop flavor like a pack of Now & Laters And get loose like the feet on Sammy Davis You know my style, it's the hardcore rhymer Pass the mic and I get loose like a vagina [Funkmaster Flex on the ones and twos] [Nine] HOO HAH! I'm funky, so shut your face and let me rip it Like butter on a biscut, Nine Double M is wicked I put the funk in the place with a dunk in your face And watch you catch a knot like a shoelace I'm not the one that was begging for a nut like a squirrel That's like Farrakhan kissing a white girl I rag it like the Bloods and Crips I flip scripts, read my lips: I got mad skills for the no frills Screaming at girls to pay bills I got more rap than a Christmas gift And I'll fill your girl's mouth like grits Have her chewing while I'm ba-ba-ba booing It's back to the mic check, one two and Back up off the gat cause I snap necks Nine Double M, Tragedy, and Funkmaster Flex [Funkmaster Flex gets busy] |
|||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
1:42 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
1:09 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Sad And Blue B/W Six Million Ways To Die (2007) | |||||
|
1:04 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Sad And Blue B/W Six Million Ways To Die (2007) | |||||
|
0:59 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Sad And Blue B/W Six Million Ways To Die (2007) | |||||
|
1:18 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Sad And Blue B/W Six Million Ways To Die (2007) | |||||
|
3:04 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Sad And Blue B/W Six Million Ways To Die (2007) | |||||
|
4:05 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - 60 Minutes Of Funk, Volume Ⅳ : The Mixtape (2000)
(Lady Luck)
Uhh, what Lady Luck Def Jam Shutting the game down from the whip To the tunnel You in da club Yo Bang this What ya'll gonna do when we rush the door Buy out the bar then rush the floor (niggas) Touch ya whore, I puff the raw Push a 4, wrist gonna crush ya jaw Don't trust a broad who rocking the Timberlands Criminal like Eminem don't act feminine But talk slick and six hit your women friends Ball like Wimbledon trucks like cinnamon It's them again (who) Niggas hotter then you It's like cop car lights with my rocks in view Pay homage to Luck a.k.a Chrissie Wallace Chick about them dollars, be a queen like Hollis Rockwilders, pop collars, glock hollers At Any nigga out to stop ours Cause we lug shots, mug shots, all at you blood clots One spot, gunshots, get the body dem hot (Chorus) x2 (A Kid Called Roots) (Lady Luck) All my niggas and broads we rush the door (c'mon) Grap your drinks and rush the floor (c'mon) We keep it hot from wall to wall (c'mon) From the front to the rear get it crunk in here (yo, yo, yo, yeah) (Lady Luck) I came in the door, said it before Luck getting drunk till I fall to the floor Come back for more, rock wall to wall Ball till I score, then out by the morn How I dip and ride that whip I drive On I-95 getting hed in the ride Me and Root sipping Gin and The Juice Jewelry to loose, jeans hang over my boots You keep think that you bullet proof Till I put to your head give it a sunroof Good God, my whole squad hard And bank accounts is large Puff Chron--ic (*couching*) Stay in Phat Farm and Sean John Chick shake yo ass like you want some cash Nigga pump it fast like y |
|||||
|
4:02 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - 60 Minutes Of Funk, Volume Ⅳ : The Mixtape (2000)
(feat. Lil' Kim)
[Funkmaster Flex] Now! We're gonna do it Lil' Kim Style Shout to Hillary, D-Roc, Brooklyn, Lil' Cease, Junior M.A.F.I.A. [Lil' Kim] Yeah, uh You put your bliss in I put my wrist in, what's missing? I'm talking to you, cuz when I shine, I glisten Sure picked a fine time not to listen Now you fucked up, without a pot to piss in Is it me, or is the rap game different? Niggas makin' indirect calls, long distance Thinkin I'm gon' stop, I'm too persistent (uh huh) And I won't drown, I'm water-resistant Mmmm, Think about when you say my name This female rapper got a knuckle game I leave you all out of commission (uh huh) Me fall off? Under one condition (ooh) Ooh, They gotta find my body dumped in the sewer Black and blue-r, underneath horse manur-er C. Delores T., Screw her, I never knew her I'm good, like milk mixed with calugha Intimidated by the songs I made (why?!) You soft like suede, I'm sharp as a blade This ain't a phase, it's the way I was raised And I'm still gon' blaze when I'm old and grey, c'mon [CHORUS:] Rockin, Rockin, We keep it Rockin, Rockin, We just don't (We don't stop) Stop it, Stop it, Til this real (Til it's hot) Hot, Hot, Whatchu say?! Rockin, Rockin, We keep it Rockin, Rockin, We just don't (We don't stop) Stop it, Stop it, Til this real (We keep it hot) Hot, Hot, Y-y-y-yeah It's QB y'all, sweet and petit About five feet with the oversized heat (what) I've got the right shoes, you've got two left feet One's incomplete, tryna make ends meet Before the album drop, you want a sneak peak You're on the wrong block, this a one-way street Hundred grand petty cash in the hotel suite Move your feet, lose your seat, shall I repeat When the LaLa hits my eyes, red as a beet Niggas hungry? I got something to eat Open your mouth, swallow the skeet Mmm Ahh.. Bon Appetit Can you keep an errection? Cuz Kim got love and affection Let me shoot it off in your direction Only if you pass the inspection, the bassline Meet me in the mezzanine Matter of fact, hop up in my limousine You can trick or treat, like it's Halloween In my Lambourghini, with the green, high beams, squeaky clean The way I gargle like it's Listerine Just be messing up my Maybelline So stick it in me like a vaccine Then I can come clean, like hygiene, in a pocket full of dreams, uh! [CHORUS:] Rockin, Rockin, We keep it Rockin, Rockin, We just don't (We don't stop) Stop it, Stop it, Til this real (Til it's hot) Hot, Hot, Whatchu say?! Rockin, Rockin, We keep it Rockin, Rockin, We just don't (We don't stop) Stop it, Stop it, Til this real (We keep it hot) Hot, Hot, Y-y-y-yeah Now to the haters, the fake-ass Dons and Donettes I smack you hoes in the face with two techs You can be a redhead, blonde or brunette I ain't tryin to catch rec, I just want respect What the heck, I go to the bank with two cheques Yours and mine, when it's time to pay debts Finally, I can put all this mess to rest And I'm glad I got this bullshit off my chest And we can still go toe to toe, blow for blow Take it to the screen, like Joe Piscapo Go to award shows, lock down the first rows Our ice keep us froze like Eskimos We rock coliseums, submarines Infrared beams with the tank machines So hate all you want, radio gon' knock it We locked in a pocket, and I'mma keep rockin [CHORUS:] Rockin, Rockin, We keep it Rockin, Rockin, We just don't (We don't stop) Stop it, Stop it, Til this real (Til it's hot) Hot, Hot, Whatchu say?! Rockin, Rockin, We keep it Rockin, Rockin, We just don't (We don't stop) Stop it, Stop it, Til this real (We keep it hot) Hot, Hot, Y-y-y-yeah Rockin, We don't stop, Til it's hot, Whatchu say Rockin, We don't stop, We keep it hot, Y-y-y-yeah [Funkmaster Flex] Yeah.. It's going down, Queen Bee! |
|||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
2:45 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
1:49 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
4:00 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Tunnel (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
3:21 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
3:47 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Tunnel (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
2:54 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Tunnel (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001)
Lay ya hammer (lay ya hammer)
Lay ya hammer kid (lay ya hammer kid) They want the drama bring it to 'em F**k 'em Ghostface: All rise meet the preacher this pro dueler been diagnosed Diabetic keptic I'm your host Lock the vanilla suede British Staten Island mall menace Otherwise posin' as a dentist in my lenses Pinball machine gun rap spoke to Arafat Laundry maid honey can't blow in this hat What Method Man: Is it raw now Change it around It's war now The final countdown commences The battleground is twelve inches of wax paper Breakin' down your defenseless senseless nature Pain stings with 'Ma Baker Twin towerin' I skyscrape ya Freedom come meet your maker Inspektah Deck: Yo Another sound boy's dyin' Crowd noise multiplyin' Don't let the fuzz slide in bust out the sirens Sure win lure 'em in like exotic women I smile with the sinister grin and finish him You're f**kin' with hoods, get ya goods pushed back Ya fraud, pull the wool off your hollywood hat U-God: Yo Yo Yo The track melts in half liquors have this brave meaning Supreme being being all that I can being Picture wavy beavers meat cleaving your receiver Fly sunny cheeba leather buckets dirty reefer Fast floatin' grill residential honey hill Stainless steel rashes sheisty catch a money bill Raekwon: It's all gravy We floatin' through like the British navy Fresh design lady love the fade keep it wavy The mix drink - throw the dick in the drink Play it baby girl caught ya Exotic album Cuban Link Custom AV's beige panties who could front on these please Ya'll niggas broke so much your uncle sells trees Gza: Yo High ranked officials and armed tanks and missles Blood drizzle simple fact you slept on the issue That before he started jerkin' off joysticks and Sega I made tapes a hundred watt amps insuring Vegas Rza fine tune it shippin' meal units MC's ask, who be those rhyme killers in masks? No doubt difficult task to last in the square Beware infinte amount of darts is in the air I'm victorious no opponents and blast through components And microphones watch the whole world live the moment Anything anti that came approachin' this Incapable lust speech remains motionless Lay ya hammer (Lay ya hammer) Lay ya hammer kid (Lay ya hammer kid) Lay ya hammer (Lay ya hammer) |
|||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
1:49 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
1:38 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
1:16 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001) | |||||
|
2:55 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Tunnel (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
3:29 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001)
(feat. Buckshot Da B.D.I. Emcee/Boot Camp Clik)
[No Joke is a cover version of "I Ain't No Joke" by Rakim a fuller length version appears on promotional 12"] [No Joke:] [Buckshot] I ain't no joke, plus I got the bright smoke Try to, cut my throat and I'ma go for broke First of all I'm lettin motherf...ers know the deal That if you steal from Buck, you bound to kneel Now you can call it a loop, and you can get the clearance But, to me it's interference when I move so what? If you interfere you get ended here and get ate up Couldn't hold your weight up, as I Take hold of your spirit mind body and soul Buckshot keeps the crowd controlled So when I look in the crowd, and watch how people wonder, "Damn" The way I flip my lyrics they don't understand I'm just an addict addicted to microphones Maybe it's a habit, uhh, I gotta grab it Even if it's broken I'ma fix that *shit* Put it together, get in your face and kick that *shit* Cause you ain't never, heard another MC like B.D.B. Emcee, rockin double-D and we Get busy, I'ma strip that throat Peep it loc, breath control, I ain't no joke [Funkmaster Flex] Yaknahmean? Big shot to my man Buckshot Big shot to Dru Ha, the whole Boot Camp Clik Big shot to Duck Down, knahmean?!! Funkmaster Flex, volume two, sixty minutes y'all... fla-vor I got a question - who remember the Panthers? Who can get the average man to Think with a military mind prepare get ready You bomb first, no time to rehease the verse Obey your thirst, but this ain't Sprite Just take a sip of the liquid lyrics, I give all night Blinded by the daylight sight Follow my lead, cause I'ma lead you right You heard, I was waitin on the sidelines Waitin for the guidelines to attack so I can pay you back Word, you ain't never heard a better superb MC better than Buck, huh, break a leg good luck If you think you gettin past the blast ask the question How you think Buck last, in the game? So long, cause I was strong from the beginnin of time When I wrote my first rhyme I was like damn B.D. let the pen smoke Cause I knew bitin it could make you choke Buck ain't no joke [Boot Camp Clik:][Follow Me*:] Just when you thought it was safe I came back with the double D clan Waitin for da man Buckshot, Da BDI...general, if I was you I wouldnt try So many tried so I seen the petty pass by Listen as I take you on a mission with precision Like a brown cent went on a hunt Worldwide searchin for the true ingredients To make the pi ?? 6 Shorty wanna hound me for a flick But I got my chips, you gettin visions of my lips Dicks swang, it dont mean a thang Cuz when I was down, you was on the other side of town Getting done by Starang, when he was in range Now its gettin cold, so you actin kinda strange Puttin my time to you broke bitches Dont do shit but stress me out, now Im back in my riches To get my blue print down to my very last dot Every move every motivation that I need Aint no hesitation when it comes to rockin when we speak Just follow my lead on this jou-rney You never heard another MC like me Follow my lead on the jour-ney You never heard another MC like me Follow my lead on the journey You never heard another Mc like me So poetically on point its ridiculous Hittin every key bassline when Im rippin this Dont act like this aint the shit right now You know my hits make you wanna dance But you still sittin down Dumb fucks have a seat and keep your tongue in your throat And dont bother to quote one note Or in the mirror you kickin the verse to mine Cuz in the freestyle, you'll be the last to rhyme This aint the battle between the two best no more Survival of the fittest...this shit is war If you got your eyes open, you can see the light If you need a guide, follow wit pride...right [Chorus] So many people took my lyrics and hooks If I wrote a book about you crook niggas gettin shook In a hot second, Im a get the hot-steppin On first, when Im on my verse, niggas need a nurse Witout the kill patient, aint no hesitation Bring your weapon like your military mind And steppin on E, times over for you Mc's All hail to G-O-D's, G-O-D's.... [Chorus] |
|||||
|
1:59 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
1:30 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
3:37 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Tunnel (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
0:31 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995)
(feat. Akinyele And Sadat X)
[Funkmaster Flex] YouknowhatI'msayin? 60 Minutes of Funk Akinyele, Sadat X UHHHH! [Akinyele] Money is the sweetest hangover! Funkmaster Flex hittin you with Volume 1 boy [Sadat X] Aiyyo I don't wanna get over! Mix tape flavor! [Sadat X] Money is the sweetest hangover! [Akinyele] Aiyyo I don't wanna get over! [Sadat X] I be the wild cowboy got a lot of style boy Ask some kids around your neighborhood block I be seen... YouknowhatI'msayin? 60 Minutes of Funk Akinyele, Sadat X, UHHHH! [Akinyele] Money is the swee... YouknowhatI'msayin? 60 Minutes of Funk Akinyele, Sadat X, UHHHH! [Akinyele] Money is the swee... YouknowhatI'msayin? 60 Minutes of Funk Akinyele, Sadat X, UHHHH! [Akinyele] Money is the sweetest hangover! Funkmaster Flex hittin you with Volume 1 boy [Sadat X] Aiyyo I don't wanna get over! Mix tape flavor! [Sadat X] I be the wild/Money is the sweetest hangover! [Akinyele] I be the wild/Aiyyo I don't wanna get over! [Sadat X] I be the wild cowboy got a lot of style I be the wild cowboy got a lot of style I be the wild cowboy got a lot of style I be the wild cowboy got a lot of style boy Ask the kids neighbor-neighborhood block Hangin-hangin out so-so mindin-mindin the fat spots-spots Slams to Aves-Aves on the fat tip [Flex rewinds] Arms is time, with the mud for the Scud Like Mario Elli jumps out from the G line Baby won't you be mine, baby won't you be mine [Akinyele] I'm flippin up like an addict kickin realism Yes insane like Sadaam on the television Flippin fat terrorism, yo, Akinyele, this is him You probably hear my rhythms through the, tunnels of prison Listen word to the coffins of Yusef Hawkins Rappers be rappin rough talkin But I be clappin guns that be blockin To make they ass step like a WalkMan You don't, stand a chance against, Mr. Magnificent Cause ever since the days of British Walkers A sole street talker, New Yorker Wailing on your ass like like Parker Delivering rhymes/lines like Ceasearian Coming from the gut, here to cut you motherfuckers up My style as sharp as a MACHETE Shredding rappers like SPAGHETTI Your crew better jump back in the oven Cause them niggaz ain't READY To deal with crooks Even a shark could get his jaws took, from a right hook Cause I tap more Chins than the Chinese phonebooks [Sadat X] If there's a cure for being rich [Akinyele] I don't want it, I don't want it [Akinyele] Aiyyo, and if there's a cure for being broke [Sadat X] Nigga I need it, and I need it [Sadat X] Hey life to me is no Popcorn Love Better saddle up this year with two gloves Home, home to me's the range Where the deers and the chickenheads get slayed Brand Nubian could never be played, wild cowboy Cartel, Brand Nubian I love it well Put on intent to sell, but the Gods can't be large In the Nubian name, I been in the game And remain with the fame, and remained the same Hey your man's comin home from jail in a month He's the big diesel nigga, I'm the mid-size nigga If you don't want it to happen, put his pictures back Up on the wall, because I'm not the homewrecker see Kicked in the movies, with his Kool-Aid lookin thirst But they ain't makin moves cause they know honey Been drinkin in bars ridin around in cars Fried chicken never tasted so good, recipes from The Colonel's steamy chicken box Make the temperature sweat, and keep your tight skirt wet [Funkmaster Flex] 60 Minutes of Funk, Volume 1 Big shout to the Flip Squad [Akinyele] So if there's a cure for being rich [Sadat X] I don't want it, I don't want it [Akinyele] Aiyyo and if there's a cure for being broke [Sadat X] Nigga I need it, and I need it [Akineyle] Aiyyo, niggaz on my dick Cause I stay dropping jewels like the incarcerated version of Slick Rick There's no question I'll, damage a professional Cause I'm a big child, in this profession Scatchin and itchin to set it, like a yeast infection Big up to agreement rappers, don't know the half Movin like moonwalkers with your backwards ass I'm too fast, for those who procrastinate Goin bananas like gorillas from the Planet of the Apes To play it safe, you punks better wear capes You can't escape, when I'm on your fire escape Hangin your ass out the window like drapes You want beef I bring steak bust your motherfucking chop It's the Ak, straight up and down, like six o'clock I'm amped like watts with a fo'-fo' that go Hit that toe and shot, cause word to Sadat X marks the spot when it's time to get hot [Sadat X] Money is the sweetest hangover! [Funkmaster Flex] You know what I'm saying, 60 Minutes of Funk [Akinyele] I said I don't wanna get over! Funkmaster Flex Mix Tape flavor, Volume 1 boy! [Akinyele] Money is the sweetest hangover! Big shout to my man Akinyele [Sadat X] Hey I don't wanna get over! Big shout to Sadat X, Queens style buckwild [Akinyele] Money is the sweetest hangover! You know how I do! [Sadat X] Hey I don't wanna get over! Big shout to my man Michelob rippin shit in Doo-Doo-Wop Projects [Akinyele] Money is the sweetest hangover! Boogie Down Bronx till we die yo! [Sadat X and Akinyele] I said money is the sweetest hangover! [Funkmaster Flex cuts up DJ Kool's "20 Minute workout" as the song ends] |
|||||
|
4:13 |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - Hip Hop Master 1997 : Funkmaster Flex Mix (1997)
(feat. Akinyele And Sadat X)
[Funkmaster Flex] YouknowhatI'msayin? 60 Minutes of Funk Akinyele, Sadat X UHHHH! [Akinyele] Money is the sweetest hangover! Funkmaster Flex hittin you with Volume 1 boy [Sadat X] Aiyyo I don't wanna get over! Mix tape flavor! [Sadat X] Money is the sweetest hangover! [Akinyele] Aiyyo I don't wanna get over! [Sadat X] I be the wild cowboy got a lot of style boy Ask some kids around your neighborhood block I be seen... YouknowhatI'msayin? 60 Minutes of Funk Akinyele, Sadat X, UHHHH! [Akinyele] Money is the swee... YouknowhatI'msayin? 60 Minutes of Funk Akinyele, Sadat X, UHHHH! [Akinyele] Money is the swee... YouknowhatI'msayin? 60 Minutes of Funk Akinyele, Sadat X, UHHHH! [Akinyele] Money is the sweetest hangover! Funkmaster Flex hittin you with Volume 1 boy [Sadat X] Aiyyo I don't wanna get over! Mix tape flavor! [Sadat X] I be the wild/Money is the sweetest hangover! [Akinyele] I be the wild/Aiyyo I don't wanna get over! [Sadat X] I be the wild cowboy got a lot of style I be the wild cowboy got a lot of style I be the wild cowboy got a lot of style I be the wild cowboy got a lot of style boy Ask the kids neighbor-neighborhood block Hangin-hangin out so-so mindin-mindin the fat spots-spots Slams to Aves-Aves on the fat tip [Flex rewinds] Arms is time, with the mud for the Scud Like Mario Elli jumps out from the G line Baby won't you be mine, baby won't you be mine [Akinyele] I'm flippin up like an addict kickin realism Yes insane like Sadaam on the television Flippin fat terrorism, yo, Akinyele, this is him You probably hear my rhythms through the, tunnels of prison Listen word to the coffins of Yusef Hawkins Rappers be rappin rough talkin But I be clappin guns that be blockin To make they ass step like a WalkMan You don't, stand a chance against, Mr. Magnificent Cause ever since the days of British Walkers A sole street talker, New Yorker Wailing on your ass like like Parker Delivering rhymes/lines like Ceasearian Coming from the gut, here to cut you motherfuckers up My style as sharp as a MACHETE Shredding rappers like SPAGHETTI Your crew better jump back in the oven Cause them niggaz ain't READY To deal with crooks Even a shark could get his jaws took, from a right hook Cause I tap more Chins than the Chinese phonebooks [Sadat X] If there's a cure for being rich [Akinyele] I don't want it, I don't want it [Akinyele] Aiyyo, and if there's a cure for being broke [Sadat X] Nigga I need it, and I need it [Sadat X] Hey life to me is no Popcorn Love Better saddle up this year with two gloves Home, home to me's the range Where the deers and the chickenheads get slayed Brand Nubian could never be played, wild cowboy Cartel, Brand Nubian I love it well Put on intent to sell, but the Gods can't be large In the Nubian name, I been in the game And remain with the fame, and remained the same Hey your man's comin home from jail in a month He's the big diesel nigga, I'm the mid-size nigga If you don't want it to happen, put his pictures back Up on the wall, because I'm not the homewrecker see Kicked in the movies, with his Kool-Aid lookin thirst But they ain't makin moves cause they know honey Been drinkin in bars ridin around in cars Fried chicken never tasted so good, recipes from The Colonel's steamy chicken box Make the temperature sweat, and keep your tight skirt wet [Funkmaster Flex] 60 Minutes of Funk, Volume 1 Big shout to the Flip Squad [Akinyele] So if there's a cure for being rich [Sadat X] I don't want it, I don't want it [Akinyele] Aiyyo and if there's a cure for being broke [Sadat X] Nigga I need it, and I need it [Akineyle] Aiyyo, niggaz on my dick Cause I stay dropping jewels like the incarcerated version of Slick Rick There's no question I'll, damage a professional Cause I'm a big child, in this profession Scatchin and itchin to set it, like a yeast infection Big up to agreement rappers, don't know the half Movin like moonwalkers with your backwards ass I'm too fast, for those who procrastinate Goin bananas like gorillas from the Planet of the Apes To play it safe, you punks better wear capes You can't escape, when I'm on your fire escape Hangin your ass out the window like drapes You want beef I bring steak bust your motherfucking chop It's the Ak, straight up and down, like six o'clock I'm amped like watts with a fo'-fo' that go Hit that toe and shot, cause word to Sadat X marks the spot when it's time to get hot [Sadat X] Money is the sweetest hangover! [Funkmaster Flex] You know what I'm saying, 60 Minutes of Funk [Akinyele] I said I don't wanna get over! Funkmaster Flex Mix Tape flavor, Volume 1 boy! [Akinyele] Money is the sweetest hangover! Big shout to my man Akinyele [Sadat X] Hey I don't wanna get over! Big shout to Sadat X, Queens style buckwild [Akinyele] Money is the sweetest hangover! You know how I do! [Sadat X] Hey I don't wanna get over! Big shout to my man Michelob rippin shit in Doo-Doo-Wop Projects [Akinyele] Money is the sweetest hangover! Boogie Down Bronx till we die yo! [Sadat X and Akinyele] I said money is the sweetest hangover! [Funkmaster Flex cuts up DJ Kool's "20 Minute workout" as the song ends] |
|||||
|
3:31 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Tunnel (2001) | |||||
|
4:36 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Car Show (2005) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995)
(feat. Cool Whip, Havoc, Tragedy, Raekwon, Freddie Foxxx)
[Chorus] One time, one time, one time Styles kinda different but let's be specific [x2] [Funkmaster Flex] This is flavor right here, 60 minutes, y'all [Cool Whip] You'se just wasn't ready for real, so here's the deal No type remorse when I pull skill, kill you and your fuking horse I'm in the midst of musical moments Lyrical guns bust, Bible's you trust and body clocks turn to dust Explain and slain, you turn slave, you're like Batman Running to your bitch ass Batcave Be aware when you witness and turn ?like Burger maids? Got you swimming while you're dreaming and Cool Whip seamen Headaches are like earthquakes, break you down And crying out for you ladies, muthafuking crybaby [Chorus] [Havoc] Foot up ? fitted if you got work We lying in ?sooken? put you on your back, sent you on your way Yo, good looking, never catching the cap, the horns In your louis in Brooklyn Getting ?toer? from the fo'er wit the dress stower Got the 80, oh don't think ?st.? nickel want to roll up Get your muthafuking shit swoll up Now it's back to Queens to serve fiends Making t's for enemies, my eyes on my enemies Sipping Hennessey wit my mind on some crime shit One time searching me but never ever find shit It's the everyday, get the loot then breeze Still my goal is to leave out of state, push keys [Tragedy] The Queen's nation, representation, I represent Bulletproof, 3 and a quarter, chrome rims and tint Forever bent off the hen demon, niggaz is scheming My crews mega wit more gunplay then Sega Pick up the celleur, call Capone-N-Noreaga The nickel plated auto when I rip for dolo Fuk one time, I'm bucking back at the poo-poo Mr Dany got me acting like that Squeeze macs outta state, ?sacs? one in your tracks I'm addicted to the CREAM, I need cheese and stacks So I'm a die trying wit AK's and Macs [Chorus] [Raekwon] Yo, yea, yea, word up kid, word up, check it, check it, yo It's the key money, time to get the stacks and maintain Analyze papes, staying drape wit heavy chains The Clan has built, pouring armaretta's in milk Rap skin kilt flex nothing but fly silk For real, Shaolin, house of whylin', house medallion Peace to cats profiling on the island Walk the view, play the view, cash in my crew If I feel shyst, watch the ice turn blue But for now, milk the cow wit the know how Chef be on the low down, sidewalk chalk wit the White Owls He, yo, niggaz who bless cassettes Peace my niggaz, one love to Funkmaster Flex [Freddie Foxx] I'm in the hole nigga knocking in sing-sing Barefoot in draws from jacking yours nigga cuz you saw 99 pushups, I'm fiending for the mic I'm starting to bug the fuk out, I'm stomping on mice They feed me like an animal, my style is mad wild Now back in population, I refuse to crack a smile Ever since I blew trial, my attitude is fuked up Anybody say shit to me is getting stuffed up Petty dope dealers, pimps and big playas Foxx got the black rock down to rhymesayer I'm born on one's crafty shank ripping skulls Chopping mad niggaz to the blade is mad dull [Chorus] |
|||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
4:15 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Car Show (2005) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Funkmaster Flex Presents The Mix Tape Vol. 1 (1995) | |||||
|
0:32 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Tunnel (2001) | |||||
|
3:29 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Car Show (2005) | |||||
|
- |
|
|||
|
from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.3/ 60 Minutes Of Funk (2001)
House OF Pain - Jump Around
Pack it up, pack it in Let me begin I came to win Battle me that's a sin I won't tear the sack up Punk you'd better back up Try and play the role and the whole crew will act up Get up, stand up, come on! Come on, throw your hands up If you've got the feeling jump across the ceiling Muggs is a funk fest, someone's talking junk Yo, I'll bust em in the eye And then I'll take the punks home Feel it, funk it Amps it are junking And I got more rhymes than there's cops that are dunking Donuts shop Sure 'nuff I got props from the kids on the Hill Plus my mom and my pops Chorus I came to get down (2x) So get out your seats and jump around Jump around (3x) Jump up Jump up and get down. Jump (18x) I'll serve your ass like John MacEnroe If your steps up, I'm smacking the ho Word to your moms I came to drop bombs I got more rhymes than the bible's got psalms And just like the Prodigal Son I've returned Anyone stepping to me you'll get burned Cause I got lyrics and you ain't got none So if you come to battle bring a shotgun But if you do you're a fool, cause I duel to the death Try and step to me you'll take your last breath I gots the skill, come get your fill Cause when I shoot ta give, I shoot to kill Chorus I'm the cream of the crop, I rise to the top I never eat a pig cause a pig is a cop Or better yet a terminator Like Arnold Schwarzenegger Try'n to play me out like as if my name was Sega But I ain't going out like no punk bitch Get used to one style and you know I might switch It up up and around, then buck buck you down Put out your head then you wake up in the Dawn of the Dead I'm coming to get ya, coming to get ya Spitting out lyrics homie I'll wet ya Chorus Jump (32x), |
|||||
|
- |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Vol.2 (2001) | |||||
|
3:52 |
|
|||
| from Funkmaster Flex - Car Show (2005) | |||||





