justice system - flexin' tha ill funk lyrics
[verse 1]
pimpin’ like a pimp mac daddy in my suit
double breasted jacket and my big bag of loot
but i break out my timbos
yo, i’m strictly business
biccardi & lime time, f+ck the guiness and the moet
on the set i’ma blow it
coming with the justice
yo, bust this!
musical style that makes me better than the rest
i change up a track to blast a whole in your chest
ill rhyme forms cus the ill funk pumps
bass thru your speaker so your backseat thumps
rompin’ over suckers like a new grand cherokee
d+ck right i make it known…know, just let it be…
alive, like your heartbeat, justice throwing joints
this ones for the sucker, yo i think i made my point
don’t point your finger at me, go point it at your producer
he made your whack tracks so he’s the one to suit ya
[hook]
yo, punk i’m know to flex the ill funk
yo, punk i’m know to flex the ill funk
[verse 2]
illyodic, justice beat, homicidal at they essence
so give to that crystals, we rap around amongst the peasants
now my crew, jacks rides in parking lots
now [?] is in the house so l!ck a shot
more funk than garfunkel, but i’m singing without simon
lost my lucky diamond droppin’ jewels in the wine inn??
from, me like a brick at a pig up in a bumbrush
and now we’re pulling cards over criminal flush
to the crib we go and max, grab a joint from the p+funk stacks
maybe a disc, that one i gotta wax
heads get lost in the clouds
as the bass beat pumps crazy loud
i’s get dizzy like dizzie gillispie
who wanna test me? punk
i drop funk like thelonius monk on piano
hit the skins ’till they sing soprano
six kids in camo now the ill funk is the ammo
[hook]
yo, punk i’m know to flex the ill funk
yo, punk i’m know to flex the ill funk
[verse 3]
it’s the mac daddy, fast fold legs bustin tracks
check up the equation, as the speakers start to stat
bass over trebles makes a level for the rebel
the ill funk forms from the sh+t it doesn’t sec ‘um?
like mold on bread, or oil in some water
you can be my waiter, so you can take my order
a big dish of bass, slow cooked to perfection
jahbaz up on the mic as i make my injection
[verse 4]
fools wanna question, the session i thinks it’s time
release the funk sabotage all up in your mind
some get lost in the chaos of the scene
it’s a suicide, brap bap bap…suicide…seen
roughneck hoods running schemes right above me
contacting motherf+ckers to get paid something lovely
from newark, to houston or boston or to compton
the ill kids will keep foots stomping… (stompin’…stompin’…stompin’)
[hook]
yo, punk i’m know to flex the ill funk
yo, punk i’m know to flex the ill funk
yo, punk i’m know to flex the ill funk
yo, punk i’m know to flex the ill funk
yo, punk i’m know to flex the ill funk
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