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redman - i'm a bad lyrics

[verse 1]
i get mad wicked (f-ck around) and catch a bad one by the funker
i puff the mad spliffs and roll blunts with archie bunker
’cause my brain is twisted, so i c-ck the biscuit
’cause sh-t’s thick, some say i’mma b-st-rd of a swift b-tch
negro, funkin’ it with the style in your ear, bro
to make you fear me like cape without robert deniro
you big p-ssy, so funky that you have to douche me
you can’t hear me then my record label didn’t push me
i know i’m sayin’ ‘funk’ too many times in my rhymes
but if i wasn’t that, i wouldn’t freak it in the line
but it don’t seems to matter ’cause my sh-t get fatter and fatter
i’ll do the funk in your face and it slaps ya
how does it feel with the face full of funk
with the b-ss in your trunk, weed laced with the blunt
i puff, i never got snuffed, bust while i dust your monkey
-ss off then i just crush on the hush hush
so if you want a taste of the funk from the gutter
ask the brothers (why?) ’cause i’m bad (word to mother)

[hook]
i’m a bad… yo, word to the mother (x3)
i’m a bad… bad bad, and a wicked in bed
i’m a bad… yo, word to the mother (x3)
i’m a bad… bad bad, and a wicked in bed

[interlude]
yo yo, check this out
this is for y’all hokey-pokey punk p-ssy motherf-ckers
just to show y’all i do what the f-ck i wanna do
i want y’all to check this on the real
and yo, check this out
shake it! c’mon shake it! c’mon shake it! c’mon shake it!
wh-ssup now? wh-ssup now? wh-ssup now? wh-ssup now?
whattup now? hahahahah
(yo red, c’mon, get back to the track man, i wanna get out of here!)
yo kid chill, a’ight, a’ight, check it out

[verse 2]
flexy i’m s-xy when i’m standin’ in my drawers
if you can’t check me when i’m rappin’, put the tape on pause
and listen to the incredible sh-t that i kick my man
give me five on the backhand then stick
your finger in a hole and chop the stick quick
’cause my lip get to the point, to still rock the fly sh-t
since you’re holding your breath, i hold my jewels
i swing hardcore, so i walk, holdin’ my tools
the original p-funk, takes no junk, from a chump, or punk, g
i been this way every since nine months
so get down while i rip the raps from my lip ’cause
my sh-t’s more deep, than any tape from enigma
the gettin’ nice, thinkin’ k!ller brother who pop trash
basic instinct — i’m a shooter so they got blasted
much -ss i kick, groove to the master mix
my song still pumps when it’s not even mastered, b-tch!
my sh-t’s very chronic so rewind it
’cause it’s like.. eh-eh-eh-eh beyond, bionic!
’cause i’m a wild and crazy guy! no lie!
last brother to battle me i started p-ssin’ in his eye
i’m bad, word to mother, to the motherf-ckin’ hubbard
eatin’ her curds and whey, puffin spliffs ’cause she doesn’t
and if you still don’t under-f-ckin-stand where i’m comin’ from
listen to my nine, understand where it’s hummin’ from!

[hook]
i’m a bad… yo, word to the mother (x3)
i’m a bad… bad bad, and a wicked in bed
i’m a bad… yo, word to the mother (x3)
i’m a bad… bad bad, and a wicked in bed

- redman lyrics

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