Lyrics Funky Child - Lords Of The Underground

Funky Child

The year is 1971
Now comes the first of the children of LOTUG
Lords of the Underground, witness the birth of the funky child
Doitall, hit 'em!
Born with the fuckers from the womb of Brenda
She now likes the Lords but she used to dig the Spinners
First with the style from the birth canal
And now I got the flav to make the crowd go wild
So dig it, wahh!
Ooh, watch me dig it
I’m taking no shorts unless it’s coming from a midget
I tax the peace more than chicken packs grease
I’m nearly knockin' boots, but if not, I’ll knock teeth
Wahh!
Ga ga, ooh, cries the baby
Smacked on the ass, now the Doitall’s crazy
No rattles, or playpens, or crowds when I’m rappin'
And yes, I do reruns, as if this was What’s Happening
Now January 14 has birthed the funk one
The B-Day for Dupree, and yes, I’m funky
I got you bobbin' to the funky style
K-Def, let 'em know here comes the funky child
Yeah… (laughs) born in the underground of Newark
Now witness the birth of Mr. Funkee
The fifth of the terror, it’s the return of Funky Kreuger
A.K.
Anger, we told 'em Mr. Funkee Wallbanger
Conceived in the fire by a war through disasters
The funky child was taught to the ways of the masters
Mr. Funkee, yes, girl, the black mack is back
Here to kick my funky style, funky this and funky that
You can work day and night, you could practice all your life
But I still take the show and then I go home with the wife
Oh my God, funky with the style, Lord have mercy
I hurdle over rappers just like Jackie Joyner-Kersee
Watch me flip the script, let me show you what the funk do
Make you call me uncle (What?) Uncle (What?!) Uncle (Who?!)
When I was young I used to sing with my sister
(Heyy)
Now I kick the ill styles, you have to call me mister
Cooling in the House of Hits, time to buckwild
Raised in the ways of the funky child
Back up baby, here comes the stroller
We’re hit when we dry crawl and hit rock 'n' rolla
I’m caught in the swinging hypnotized by the Pendulum
Distributed by Elektra, so this is how I’m killing them
K is on the M.P., Jazz is on the Technic
Marley’s on the mix, and now the Lords have a hit like POW!
Now it’s time to get buckwild
And watch my funky brothers freak the underground
In a second, or minute, in no times flat…
Bring it back!
And go grab the album to bring the Lords money
Take it home to mom to say, «Ain't they funky?»
We gone psycho and everbody thought we was DAS
It didn’t affect me, I said, «So what?»
I kept on writing rhymes
I keep my funky style perfected so no one can stop my flow
I fear no man, cause if it’s on fool, then it’s on
(And it’s on!)
Don’t worry not for other crews selling out
As long as Lords of the Underground stay underground
The brothers of LOTUG will keep the lyrical fitness
Don’t worry about me selling out, mind your business
You might say, «Damn, Mr. Funkee’s going out!»
But if you listen to the words then you’ll know what I’m about
Any props you receive are the props that you earn
I’m off 'til the funky child returns