Lyrics Illy Filly Funk - Da Youngsta's

Illy Filly Funk

«Who is it?»
«It's the mother number number one the funky youngsta» — Naughty By nature
Who is it?
«The crew with the»
«Illy filly funk»
Peep the skills the technique
Yes G I know when I wreck beats
I’m the one you let speak, I’m letting off heat so don’t sleep
I’m coming with the illy filly funk
Like billy the kid I’m bucking down punks
I get wicked when it’s time to get the job done son
So run before I come like a young gun
Representing Illy town I’ve been around
I gets down yo I’ve been raised by the underground
So make way it’s the mother funky Youngstas
Rough and rugged were the Illy Filly Funkstas
Hit em hard, boom boom, hit em hard
I hit you so hard that I knock you of your guard
No holds barred I’m coming to get you like a bounty hunter
Your numbers up when I take off like a road runner
It ain’t no gimmick when I’m running shit like Emmitt
Got you shot like a clinic with the wack epidemic
[Verse Two[
Once again i’m back on this track
And get a smack with my rap, is it milk no it’s Similac
So I’ma say glory, hallelujah
Cause you can get smoked like buddha
Do you, step up front?
You get slumped chump
I leave lumps and bumps on hands when I bring the funk
Never slipping or slacking, ripping and attacking
Just like an assasin I’m blasting
Much props to the girls in the Philly world
The illy girl around the way
The girl’s really thorough
So when it comes to the funk I got to bring it
I won’t sing it, so get down with the team kid
Mad props call the cops when I rock
Cause I can knock out punks like a pinch from Mr. Spock ock
You better wake up early you bore me
I’m massacring party’s like Denzel in Glory
Peep the style, I wreck a while
I gets buck wild, moving the crowd, no mistakes allowed
Check the file, if you want to know the bio
Or just tune into your FM dial
Q-ball, Rick Geez and Taj Mahal
Never stall getting raw with silly Philly y’all
Cause in the south to the north to the west
Keeping it phat just like Dolly Parton’s chest
Pass the test so
Try oh try, yo S.L.A.Y.S
It’s what the rhyme does so you better jet
I got mad rhymes that make Mother Goose upset
Make them sweat like malaria I’ma bury ya
Clear the area, before I crash through your barrier
Rhymes is, these jobs getting nasty, you blast me
You can never past or smash me
Styles like concrete I’m smelling defeat
When I speak, I got to terminate your crew because your squad’s weak
So now I’m coming to your court to slam dunk
Cause you can’t stop when I drop the filly funk