Food For Funk歌词
歌曲名:Food For Funk 歌手:Common 所属专辑:《One Day It\'ll All Make Sense》
介绍:《Food For Funk》是由Common演唱的歌曲,该歌曲收录在Common的《One Day It\'ll All Make Sense》专辑之中,如果您觉得该歌曲好听的话,就把这首歌分享给您的朋友一起支持Common的Food For Funk的吧!
Food For Funk歌词
What yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, check it yo
You say a one for the trouble two for the time
Come on y'all let's rock that uh(I can feel the funk, I can feel the funk)(I can feel the funk, I can feel the funk)
Check itI come to grips with mics
I come to grips that a lot of mic users is dikes
I come to grips with the likes of
Fred Hampton
Cold so I'm lampin' with no need for spotlight
When I got light like an intersection, you talk
But you came to my town with protection
Election year, had the block hot
I scream, "**** the world", for having a baby girl sorta cock block
I write rhymes like
I come from the windy city
With my crew,
I click like simply, stand midi with reality
Casually,
I walk through these war games
Some claim say but then they take on whore names
If that's the way your *** drives, stay in your lane
If you're a man,
I can't tell like if the door rang now
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
Some ****** be on the mic, sounding like dikes
Allow me to get on and bust like
Spike(Uh)Lee,
I'm in the majors with no rotation
Through stations of ********,
I see through like a pager
In the age of
Aquarius, various things
Is gonna carry us in intellect and what have you
Street astrologist's interpret point stars and half moons
Then end up on garages or walls in bathrooms
Every black moon, a rap tune move me
The rap sun,
I rain more than
Rudy, that unruly **** is played
It don't stop, it's time to get it, get it made
I got my mind made up like
Foxy Brown's face
I know how the underground tastes
I want a crib from the ground up, rooms spin at a round pace
Get down based on true story, through
CoreyCame close to the teachers
Colder as the
Iceman, posted before it start wrinklin'
Linkin' with cats, who don't react to change in the years
Fulfill prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
Yo, check it, check it
I came through the corridor, with the aura
Raw Chicago
Mora, scope the horror
Read between the lines and know the border
Some pop wines for juice,
I wait in the water
Waitin' for you
Big Willie ****** to have a show at the crib
We gonna get with your glamor, long as we know where it is
Tell you ain't a player by your sweater doused with wack feather
The Crib got the gangsta playa **** patent like black leather
I rap better than you, you or maybe him
But I am like a tree and every lyric is a timb
Spilled brews and greasy foods got my car smelly
Some be so high, they believe they fly like
R. KellyBut then they fall off, dusted ****** is gettin' sawed off
They fall soft, my mental lift is for me to haul off,
I kick ass
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Wanna shout
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, check it yo
You say a one for the trouble two for the time
Come on y'all let's rock that uh(I can feel the funk, I can feel the funk)(I can feel the funk, I can feel the funk)
Check itI come to grips with mics
I come to grips that a lot of mic users is dikes
I come to grips with the likes of
Fred Hampton
Cold so I'm lampin' with no need for spotlight
When I got light like an intersection, you talk
But you came to my town with protection
Election year, had the block hot
I scream, "**** the world", for having a baby girl sorta cock block
I write rhymes like
I come from the windy city
With my crew,
I click like simply, stand midi with reality
Casually,
I walk through these war games
Some claim say but then they take on whore names
If that's the way your *** drives, stay in your lane
If you're a man,
I can't tell like if the door rang now
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
Some ****** be on the mic, sounding like dikes
Allow me to get on and bust like
Spike(Uh)Lee,
I'm in the majors with no rotation
Through stations of ********,
I see through like a pager
In the age of
Aquarius, various things
Is gonna carry us in intellect and what have you
Street astrologist's interpret point stars and half moons
Then end up on garages or walls in bathrooms
Every black moon, a rap tune move me
The rap sun,
I rain more than
Rudy, that unruly **** is played
It don't stop, it's time to get it, get it made
I got my mind made up like
Foxy Brown's face
I know how the underground tastes
I want a crib from the ground up, rooms spin at a round pace
Get down based on true story, through
CoreyCame close to the teachers
Colder as the
Iceman, posted before it start wrinklin'
Linkin' with cats, who don't react to change in the years
Fulfill prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
Yo, check it, check it
I came through the corridor, with the aura
Raw Chicago
Mora, scope the horror
Read between the lines and know the border
Some pop wines for juice,
I wait in the water
Waitin' for you
Big Willie ****** to have a show at the crib
We gonna get with your glamor, long as we know where it is
Tell you ain't a player by your sweater doused with wack feather
The Crib got the gangsta playa **** patent like black leather
I rap better than you, you or maybe him
But I am like a tree and every lyric is a timb
Spilled brews and greasy foods got my car smelly
Some be so high, they believe they fly like
R. KellyBut then they fall off, dusted ****** is gettin' sawed off
They fall soft, my mental lift is for me to haul off,
I kick ass
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Wanna shout
Food For FunkLRC歌词
What yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, check it yo
You say a one for the trouble two for the time
Come on y'all let's rock that uh(I can feel the funk, I can feel the funk)(I can feel the funk, I can feel the funk)
Check itI come to grips with mics
I come to grips that a lot of mic users is dikes
I come to grips with the likes of
Fred Hampton
Cold so I'm lampin' with no need for spotlight
When I got light like an intersection, you talk
But you came to my town with protection
Election year, had the block hot
I scream, "**** the world", for having a baby girl sorta cock block
I write rhymes like
I come from the windy city
With my crew,
I click like simply, stand midi with reality
Casually,
I walk through these war games
Some claim say but then they take on whore names
If that's the way your *** drives, stay in your lane
If you're a man,
I can't tell like if the door rang now
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
Some ****** be on the mic, sounding like dikes
Allow me to get on and bust like
Spike(Uh)Lee,
I'm in the majors with no rotation
Through stations of ********,
I see through like a pager
In the age of
Aquarius, various things
Is gonna carry us in intellect and what have you
Street astrologist's interpret point stars and half moons
Then end up on garages or walls in bathrooms
Every black moon, a rap tune move me
The rap sun,
I rain more than
Rudy, that unruly **** is played
It don't stop, it's time to get it, get it made
I got my mind made up like
Foxy Brown's face
I know how the underground tastes
I want a crib from the ground up, rooms spin at a round pace
Get down based on true story, through
CoreyCame close to the teachers
Colder as the
Iceman, posted before it start wrinklin'
Linkin' with cats, who don't react to change in the years
Fulfill prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
Yo, check it, check it
I came through the corridor, with the aura
Raw Chicago
Mora, scope the horror
Read between the lines and know the border
Some pop wines for juice,
I wait in the water
Waitin' for you
Big Willie ****** to have a show at the crib
We gonna get with your glamor, long as we know where it is
Tell you ain't a player by your sweater doused with wack feather
The Crib got the gangsta playa **** patent like black leather
I rap better than you, you or maybe him
But I am like a tree and every lyric is a timb
Spilled brews and greasy foods got my car smelly
Some be so high, they believe they fly like
R. KellyBut then they fall off, dusted ****** is gettin' sawed off
They fall soft, my mental lift is for me to haul off,
I kick ass
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Wanna shout
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, check it yo
You say a one for the trouble two for the time
Come on y'all let's rock that uh(I can feel the funk, I can feel the funk)(I can feel the funk, I can feel the funk)
Check itI come to grips with mics
I come to grips that a lot of mic users is dikes
I come to grips with the likes of
Fred Hampton
Cold so I'm lampin' with no need for spotlight
When I got light like an intersection, you talk
But you came to my town with protection
Election year, had the block hot
I scream, "**** the world", for having a baby girl sorta cock block
I write rhymes like
I come from the windy city
With my crew,
I click like simply, stand midi with reality
Casually,
I walk through these war games
Some claim say but then they take on whore names
If that's the way your *** drives, stay in your lane
If you're a man,
I can't tell like if the door rang now
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
Some ****** be on the mic, sounding like dikes
Allow me to get on and bust like
Spike(Uh)Lee,
I'm in the majors with no rotation
Through stations of ********,
I see through like a pager
In the age of
Aquarius, various things
Is gonna carry us in intellect and what have you
Street astrologist's interpret point stars and half moons
Then end up on garages or walls in bathrooms
Every black moon, a rap tune move me
The rap sun,
I rain more than
Rudy, that unruly **** is played
It don't stop, it's time to get it, get it made
I got my mind made up like
Foxy Brown's face
I know how the underground tastes
I want a crib from the ground up, rooms spin at a round pace
Get down based on true story, through
CoreyCame close to the teachers
Colder as the
Iceman, posted before it start wrinklin'
Linkin' with cats, who don't react to change in the years
Fulfill prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
Yo, check it, check it
I came through the corridor, with the aura
Raw Chicago
Mora, scope the horror
Read between the lines and know the border
Some pop wines for juice,
I wait in the water
Waitin' for you
Big Willie ****** to have a show at the crib
We gonna get with your glamor, long as we know where it is
Tell you ain't a player by your sweater doused with wack feather
The Crib got the gangsta playa **** patent like black leather
I rap better than you, you or maybe him
But I am like a tree and every lyric is a timb
Spilled brews and greasy foods got my car smelly
Some be so high, they believe they fly like
R. KellyBut then they fall off, dusted ****** is gettin' sawed off
They fall soft, my mental lift is for me to haul off,
I kick ass
Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of ****** all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do girl(Wanna shout)
To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of ******
It ain't high tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do man?
Yo, check it(Let go)
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk,
I can feel the funk
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna shout
Wanna shout
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