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redman – tonight’s da night lyrics

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[verse 1: redman]
mic check, i can get smooth to any groove
relax the tongue, let my mic take a cruise
around the planet, pack em in like janet
jackson, she’s askin’ if i can slam it
i’m—

[hurricane g]
yo, yo, redman, man, what the f-ck, man?!
get the f-ck off that…punk smooth sh-t, man!
get with that rough sh-t, man; you know how we do!

[verse 1: redman]
mic check, i walk around the streets with a black tec-9
by the waistline, kickin’ the hype sh-t
i never claim to be the best type of rapper
but have to, show them motherf-ckers what i’m after
i’m after the gold, then after that, the platinum
beef after that, hurricane g packs the gat, son
trigger, bang, bang, yo bust the slang, what my name?
it’s the redman on the funk train
psyche, you’re motherf-ckin’ right, tonight’s the night
to do what i wanna do, to do it like dynamite
the work perfected, when the funk been injected
i roughen up the rough draft to like make your head split
punk! p-ss the 40 and the blunt and don’t front
on the block, ’cause when you do front, brothers are gettin’ stomped
i’m not an addict, more like puff than magic
then p-ss it when i’m through ’cause my crew…
(gots to have it)
i don’t claim to be a big rap star
’cause no matter who you are, you’ll still catch a bullet scar
so listen up and take heed to what i’m sayin’
’cause tonight’s the night and me and my n-ggas ain’t playin’

[interlude over mary jane girls’ “all night long”]
fat black b-tch! nasty
bush bear, booga breath b-tch
nasty, talk to your t-ts b-tch
with them nasty africans, mr. bojangles
turned up shoes havin’ -ss
lemming leprechaun haircut motherf-cker!

[verse 2: redman]
you wanna see me get cool, please, save it for the breeze
’cause the lyrics and tracks, make me funky like cottage cheese
f-ck the smooth sh-t, i get down with the boom bip
like q-tip, i kick more styles than bruce shoes kick
but tonight’s the night what i write tonight
this type of funk with the flavor like mike ‘n’ ike’s
hanging out with my n-ggas, my n-ggas
the pack pistol posse keep they fingers on the triggers
i keep the 40 between my lap, coolin’, rollin’ down the highway
blunt system pumps ’cause it’s friday
roll over to pick my boys up, we raise a lot of noise
’cause, we can do that black, so “get the bozack”, jack
remember, i do the type of evil that men do
like cursin’ out my window at a b-tch and her friend too
so turn the volume up a notch
and watch the ba-bump, ba-bump, make ya speakers pop
that’s the funk, when it pumps it makes your rump
jump, jump, jump…jump, jump, jump
but if you want to see a fly but frantic
cool romantic, more sl!cker than my man rick
you better check the yellow pages under smooth sh-t
’cause red ain’t down for the bullsh-t
n-ggas f-cked up by letting me make an album
(how come, rude boy?)
to get on the mic and let my f-ckin’ style run

[interlude over mary jane girls’ “all night long”]
nasty f-ckin’ green thumb jolly green n-ggas
tango mango, pickin’ havin’ -ss
nasty epileptic disease crazy havin’ -ss
johnny cash, afro havin’
jack of spades, boots havin’
tony danza, shoes wearin’ -ss!

[verse 3: redman]
b-b-b-black by popular demand, i expand
my hand to the mic and let my mouth kick the flim flam
i get s-x, i get wreck, i puff mad blunts
i get vexed, i break necks, punch out gold fronts, chump
you—

[outro]
yo, f-ck that, yo, turn this sh-t off, man
turn this sh-t off, g
boom the new record on, knahmsayin’?



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