This is a Misdemeanor exclusive
If your radio is experiencing any kind of difficulties
Turn the volume up
Yes, turn the volume up
Yes, turn the volume up
This is exclusive (turn the volume up)
It's very necessary, on the contrary
No, you do not scare me, as you drink your Bloody Mary
Police, you betta' hurry, before I have to bury
My attitude is bitchy 'cause my period is heavy
I used to drive a Chevy; put 20s on that bebé
My nigga was the shit, but then that stupid nigga left me
So now I'm lovin' Larry, but Larry go wit' Terry
And Terry is some freak, but it's his baby she will carry
The life he live a fairy; cartoon, like Tom & Jerry
My flow is legendary & yo' style is temporary
Yeah, you need to worry; like Jason, it gets scurry
The words that I spit don't fit in a catergory
Yes, my vision blurry; my speech is very slurry
Me wit'out Tim is like Jamaicans wit' no curry
And, yes, it's necessary; so hurry, nigga, hurry
'Cause when this album drops, you whack MCs will get all buried
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress (turn the volume up)
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress (turn the volume up)
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress (turn the volume up)
Your style's very crummy, that's why you have no money
You always lookin' bummy, I don’t care if you don’t love me
Don’t try to come before me, unless you are a dummy
Repeat, you’ll lose your teeth, and I would hate to call you Gummy
Rainy or sunny; battle, no way, honey
This not a game of hide-and-seek, go call ya mummy
It’s about to get so ugly, and Imma keep ya' runnin'
Hidin' from me 'cause you know you are weak
And you ain’t sayin' nothin'; I keep ya jumpin'-jumpin'
In yo' Kenwood, I'm bumpin' sumfin' in ya trunk 'n
You can say I'm buggin', 'cause when I come out bustin'
That’s why ya'll be discussin' who I like & who I’m fuckin'
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress (turn the volume up)
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress (turn the volume up)
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress (turn the volume up)
C'mon, c'mon
C'mon, c'mon
C'mon, c'mon
Ficky, uh, uh, uh
C'mon, c'mon
C'mon, c'mon
Had a lil' homie named Paul Revere
Smoked blunt after blunt; guzzled 40s of beer
He would swear, up & down, every first of da year
He was gon' quit smokin' but he neva' did
Watch ya'll husky, it's about that time
Gettin' ready for the club 'round a quarter-to-nine
Couple bottles o' hypnotic in the back o' da ride
Might spit like a girl, but I hit like a guy
Me & Missy ballin' up the avenue
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress; we mackin' dudes
Music biz only reason I ain’t jackin' fools
You know, bullshit walk & stackin' rules
Niggas keep drawlin'; the streets keep callin'
Drink 'til I’m nice and uh-uh-uh-on 'n
I'm bad luck; ya'll mad, 'cause ya'll suck
Please do not try to fuck with this young buck
Please do not try to fuck with this young buck
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress (turn the volume up)
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress (turn the volume up)
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party
Funky-fresh, dressed to impress (turn the volume up)