| We jettin, we jettin, we jettin uptown
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| We jettin, we jettin, we jettin downtown
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| We jettin, we jettin, we jettin crosstown
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| We jettin, we jettin, we jettin, we jettin
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| We jettin uptown (uptown)
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| We jettin downtown (downtown)
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| We jettin crosstown
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| We jettin all around
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| No wonder, no wonder, 8th wonder, 8th wonder 's
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| Funkay
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| I live Brooklyn like year 24 for sure
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| Sul, C-Know, in my tennis skirt
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| And the kick hurts so good that I gotta sorta accents for this
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| Now here’s a notion for my
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| Nation cause I place you on the dynomite
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| Right? |
| The creamin' is schemin' to get it
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| Right, the means almighty dolla
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| The green power, let loose for the hour
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| I chose the Black Power, extra fly joint from marker to yellow paper
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| And you know I don’t delay
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| Together with my honey like silk and soul
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| We grow and take you back to like afros
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| And no quittin or gettin jumped by the system
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| Its all day, all play got verbs and such
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| And cuts and crew, no blue eyes
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| To emulate, some straight but yeah we straight up
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| Funkay
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| Ease back, the g’s back as an o.d. |
| gettin
|
| Funkay
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| The sun sets, you vex, we gets, mad
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| Funkay
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| East coast to west we stays fresh
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| Ezay
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| Smoke rise from the borrough where that black cool blow (?)
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| The globe spins, gems is drop
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| No fakin, no bacon three bridges fo money makin
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| Crooklyn, the ebb-swinger's lounge-out spot
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| Roll with our pants leg up, bump my sounds
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| Grab my mic-ro, you know how we do in the joint
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| Do a borough check to see exactly who in the joint
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| Hot spots, city streets lye spots and jeeps
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| As a flow-er I’m Nile, rivers of style
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| (fresh kid)
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| Yea, stories complete
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| (fresh kid)
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| Rollin on them New York streets
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| With them Newport beats at the Parliaments
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| 7s up C-know steelo no equal, but the sun and thats
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| Funkay
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| Ease back, the g’s is back as an o-d gettin
|
| Funkay
|
| The sun sets, you vex, we gets, mad
|
| Funkay
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| East coast to west we stays fresh I say
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| Quicklay
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| Smoke rise from the borrogh where that black cool blow
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| Its that nickelslick nig, keep it deep from my heads
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| Let a fed up, appearin in my camouflage
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| My hustler walk say New York
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| Su fronts say Gucci we make lucci, and never hesitates to set it
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| Slap hands with my hands from the lands of Crook
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| Bein lovely over jams that’s on the flams w/hook
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| Burn Musk, wear Kush, its Flatbush
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| Hear the mental’s instramental cause it’s ash to dust
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| I like to hit lye deep, keep fam tight tight
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| Keep the vocal strictly any joint, it’s right
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| Let me fly
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| Ease back, the g’s back with the OD
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| Sun is in, the clouds on loud
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| I got raised by the dim street lights of four cities
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| My heros died in prison: George Jackson
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| Action, she’s Buttaflyin, I’m cool eyein
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| And I rocks no 'Lo unless its scrambler gotten
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| Me and my honey, we be like Bobby and Erica
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| Me and my monies, we’ll hurt you boulevard empire
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| One love, gun love come free the land w/us
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| Pigs they cannot shoot this plush and creamy lavishnuss
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| Before I pop I’d rather die in baggy Guess and Timbs
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| And I put that on the BKLYN and thats
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| Funkay
|
| Ease back the g’s back as an o.d. |
| gettin
|
| Funkay
|
| The sun sets, you vex, we gets mad
|
| Funkay
|
| East coast to west we stays fresh and we do it on the
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| Slicklay
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| Smoke rise from the borrogh where the black cool blow
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| We jettin, we jettin, we jettin uptown… |