Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Illy Filly Funk , by - Da Youngsta's. Song from the album No Mercy, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 04.02.2008
Record label: Atlantic
Song language: English
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 |