My weight crush trash broken glass
Fro soul gold Panther crew grab our poppers
Descend to my borough digs my diction
I feel the funk da funk, feelin' the funk da funk
Burnt you with degrees solarly
In the mist, with a fist
We do it in the park, we do it in the park
Plus my leather jacket go acid disappear in the wisp
In Fort Green on diamond back is where I'm at
I'm saying a Digable swinger
Stones, rocks, subways, blocks, chill mode
It's way on time pass the watch fifth line still shining
Bahamadia back the sounds with the love love
K.B. said "What you give 'em?" I was like "Mad rhythm."
Commit to street corners where players be jay in
Publishers: GLIRO MUSIC, INC, WIDE GROOVES MUSIC
Arriving at the doors of mind shores of seas
Is good diers that it so I move
That's ho we bump
Save your corny missions for the tracks you lying on
V Love, that's my money like dominoes
I chalk the new sound, I bop like Teddy Charles was burning
The flyer we get the higher we get
Low down the whole mix and flips I 63
So I gave my mind a pound 'cause y'all we had it down
Word to mouth brought the clout 'specially in the summer
We do it in the park, we do it in the park
DPS forever hit ya' with the live stuff
Before we fall victim we lick 'em
My tools, jewels, the nation
We make it bump de bump
You want to see knowledge born, see C Knowledge Born
I pop my junk my junk, I pop my junk my junk
Do it fluent keep it real and straight
Jay B and M.C. baby blue great
Loot fold rebel wit no pause down to die for 'cause be-cause
Those who play my crew couldn't walk the new found
Brooklyn do keep it rocking till the sun shows
Eric Dolphy always hits me with the live stuff
We make it bump se bump
On the script side
When I excuse on excursions
Feelin' da funk da funk, I am the funk
We deal real-real so chill we linger in the funk
I pop my junk my junk, pop my junk my junk
Yo what up Ish? What's up
Now, I'm making bacon
What's going on
In my vein lives bell hooks Derrick Bell, Reggie Butler
Songwriters: Ishmael Butler, Craig Irving, Mary Ann Vieira
That's my junk
See Marvin knew it, and Sly knew it
Proletariat, Cadilac steering it
T.J. and Lisa real peoples 89 and still
Cover asphalt dates wait  at night
We make it pump se pump
Yes Yes, bus stop what's up watt's up
Outta sight brown sandals handle in M.C.s with angles
I ain't playin'
We showed and we prove
I'm fluent after dark, in any siteation
I'm left this year a unknown player
Cube know it and now we do it outta Brooklyn
We symbolize the blessed and represent the rest
It's Saturday I'm looking at the streets as my Nikes
Suliman the Bronx Ripper on the live puff
We got ammunition for the streets we dying on
We make it bump
I pop my junk my junk, like what you want you want
Play the wall with one foot up
Fresh joints we make 'em like water
Denia gotta see a fatter day
The noise that we made is blue, in color sound
Butter rap treasures at my leisure whatever whatever
Tote my fist right up right against the fascist
I raise everyday for the mass
I bless you with some joints, the mental hollow points
Feelin' da funk da funk that's in the trunk the trunk
Grass in my pockets I release my hot rockets
That's right, that's right
Good tryers
Still saying wa ah salaam ah lakum
I'm feelin' funk da funk I'm in the trunk da trunk
We vanish like vapor burn paper
Meet me at the corner Murder and Adolpha
It's groove food
Pop my junk my junk, I pop my junk