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)