Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Funkin Over Nuthin' (Feat. Too Short And Harm), artist - Luniz. Date of issue: 31.12.1996
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Funkin Over Nuthin' (Feat. Too Short And Harm) |
| It really hasn’t been brought up too clearly |
| The Luniz and Too $hort everything has been squashed |
| Yeah we want everybody to know, that it’s, you know |
| The Oaktown ain’t about this |
| The media hypes up things when they’re wrong |
| But doesn’t give enough praise when everything is going good |
| We should just do a cut |
| Don’t even mention no beef or nothing |
| Just drop it on 'em |
| You know it’s politics, that made it sound like that |
| But it’s all unified you see it’s all Jesus |
| BITCH! |
| BITCH! |
| BITCH! |
| BITCH! |
| BITCH! |
| Man what’s it all about? |
| Ain’t about shit |
| Nigga call me up talking about man it’s on |
| Your niggas fucking wit my niggas an it’s on |
| Nigga what we fronting for? |
| If it ain’t about this money |
| Ain’t about this life an death nigga, shit |
| What’s really going on? |
| Jumped all in a nigga’s face front him on the spot |
| Don’t cross the game unless ya wanna get shot |
| But who made the rules, do you recall? |
| Who’s the judge when it comes to this street law? |
| Is it me? |
| You? |
| Or is it my crew? |
| My niggas get down, your niggas do too |
| Motherfuckers try to tell me don’t fuck my life |
| Cause ain’t nuthin' nice, ya gotta pay the price |
| You know them dudes, walking in them same shoes |
| It’s brand new to you, but the game is used |
| I got it from them old niggas, they so cool |
| Now we just roll through, all the hoes know who |
| Ballin' in town, don’t front, it’s too little |
| Fake ass niggas get punked for your vittles |
| So what’s it all about? |
| Think about it later |
| To all you real gangsters, and all you perpetrators |
| You’ve got me funkin' (funkin') |
| Over nuthin' man (funkin mayne) |
| Why ya wanna funk with me? |
| (Niggas funk over shit!) |
| (Speak on it boy!) |
| Uh |
| Sometimes you step in some shit you can’t get out of |
| Niggas who talk hella shit is who I’m quick to sock the shit out of |
| Sniff powder, with all your hoes off my door |
| Got em froze like Poconos, you’re spendin all your dough |
| On the average-ass, stanky ass, run a gank-ass |
| Fuck everybody fast, just an Oakland-ass hoe |
| Now I know why niggas wanna knock you out like Glass Joe |
| All that playa hatin' shit ain’t asked for |
| You must got problems wit niggas makin they cash flow |
| You gaffled your motherfucking youngsters |
| So go with your old ass flow, I gots to have jaw-jacked hoe |
| Cuz some of niggas wonder why us playas do this |
| On the under, caught up in some shit I didn’t have nuthin to do with |
| The truth is, you know my funk is through |
| So ride for a nigga if that nigga ain’t gonna do shit |
| You wanna be ass pimp |
| Getting your ass whipped is like an every year event, bitch |
| Dig it |
| I’m too motherfuckin much for myself |
| So funkin' with niggas close to home is somethin' else |
| If you ain’t gonna blow a nigga head off, then that’s the end it |
| Concentrate on makin' mail and start spendin |
| Now this is where my do it for myself begins |
| Cause in '97 I ain’t makin no new mutha fuckin friends |
| Now I got no enemies, I hold no grudges |
| From now on I’m overseeing my own budget (For real!) |
| We all did our dirt nigga, but now that’s all forgiven |
| Chris, you my nigga til the ending, and |
| I started wit Dru (me too!) I started with Yuk (Smoke-A-Lot) |
| You’re all hangin with me, so I gives a fuck |
| Nummy-Num gone go ahead and drink his self to death |
| Nigga you wanna chop it up wit me, go through death yourself |
| I ain’t tryin to hear nuthin', instead of throwin away skrillion, nigga |
| I’d rather be fuckin, uh |
| I signed my name on the dotted line, niggas know I did it first |
| But when you first, you know you get it worse |
| I suck the game up, I try to pass it on |
| Niggas from the Bay, gettin' they cash on |
| From Frisco, to Vallejo |
| To the Big O, fuck that yayo |
| Hundred thousand units make a nigga half a million dollars |
| If you sittin' on a grip, I have to holla at you later |
| You can get rich in a minute |
| Two words: Distribution, Independent |
| Make an accapella you can hear every word |
| I spit this game you never ever heard |
| You know how you be quick to pop niggas |
| These record companies be quick to rob niggas |
| I say «$hort Dogg» and now they pay me |
| Don’t pay these youngsters and watch 'em get crazy |
| Fuck around and run up in your shit |
| Yeah, that’s the new thing going baby |
| We runnin' up in record companies |
| Writin' our own motherfucking checks |
| Sign on the dotted line nigga |
| What you really gettin'? |
| What’s really going on? |
| Watch out |
| Niggas in the town about to unite |
| We going nationwide |
| Oakland style, bitch! |
| Oh you really thought that wasn’t gonna happen? |
| Shit |
| Come on now |