Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Funk U Up, artist - South Central Cartel.
Date of issue: 02.08.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Funk U Up |
I’m posted up in a Cutlass, hoo-bangin in a bucket |
Hennessy got a nigga mind shifted, so fuck it |
Told you muthafuckas we was back droppin amity |
Riders on deck, Chuck T’s my calamity |
Servin any niggas tryin to dip on them whips |
100 spokes gold thangs so I bangs with the clip |
Out of the cut like a (?) I slides like a Klingon |
(?) hit the switch and leave that ass froze like freon |
It’s them mad-ass Cartel gangsters |
Throwin bolos so fuck what Bo knows cause I’ma bank ya |
Put your ass on some crutches |
Stackin ends like the Dutches |
Counterreact for the attack like Marcus Allen rushes |
It’s that Westside rider Rhime Son, like that |
In a 'burban still swervin sippin on a cognac |
With my tag team, Prode’je, nigga, you couldn’t fuck with the realest |
We get in that ass like Bruce Willis |
Bitch |
(Funk you right on up |
We gonna funk you right on up) |
Westside |
(Funk you right on up |
We gonna funk you right on up) |
Eastside rider |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
Yeah |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
Nigga |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
Peep game |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
Well, sit your punk-ass down |
(.down) |
Eastside rider |
Predatory like the Terminator, mo' game than Sega |
How many muthafuckas wanna step to this omega |
Supreme, the .44 cocked for the cream |
I fiend for the green so the gee’s on the scene |
My diamond’s in the back but your diamond’s in my pocket |
I knock your jaws loose flyin things like a rocket |
You couldn’t stop it cause 6−4's, yeah, we drops it |
Comin for your (?) slingin muthafuckin toxic |
Niggas never loc unless you worry S. C |
Cause many muthafuckas I can bury O. G |
But when you close your eyes it’s the gees comin atcha |
Khakis, Chuck T’s, Beefy-Tee's, I’ma gatcha |
Steady dippin, things whippin, am I crippin |
Niggas hate a player so the playa-hatas trippin |
When the Rhime Son ridin shotgun niggas see the blues |
And we don’t give a fuck about yo crews |
(Funk you right on up |
We gonna funk you right on up) |
Eastside rider |
(Funk you right on up |
We gonna funk you right on up) |
Wessyde |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
Haha |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
Geah |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
Sit yo ass down |
(…down) |
Cartel riders |
I’m dippin back to the hood ragged up too deep |
Extended clips, hollow tips, Murder Squad don’t sleep |
I’m terrorizin a terroist, fuck Hussein and his posse |
Expanded flows, hot .44's, khaki saggin, fuck a Nazi |
I’m mobbin block to block, chronic got a nigga on twist |
I gets deeper than the death, so muthafuck the _Abyss_ |
It’s the S.C. O.G. |
(Who I be?) H-a-v |
96 in your shit, Rhime Son and Prode’je |
Cause we be swingin 17, makin muthafuckas over |
Comin through your hoods like a muthafuckin soldier |
Gangsta rap is over, muthafuckas, how you figure? |
Cause bein anti-gee is like bein anti-nigga |
They try to put to bed but the gee is never sleepin |
I’m down with TLC cause the nigga sho' creepin |
The chronic flows, as it grows you’se a witness |
So sit the fuck down and let the gees handle business |
(Funk you right on up |
We gonna funk you right on up) |
Westside |
(Funk you right on up |
We gonna funk you right on up) |
Eastside rider |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
Yeah |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
Nigga |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
Busters |
(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) |
Sit your punk-ass down |
(.down) |
Nigga right |
Westside and Eastside on a mission, nigga |
199-c-c, muthafuckas |
South Central Cartel beatin yo ass since '91 |
And it don’t stop |
Never that, never that, nigga |
199… to infinity |
Prode’je and Rhime Son, fool |