[Redman: Verse 1]
I get mad wicked (f** around) and catch a bad one by the funker
I puff the mad spliffs and roll blunts with Archie Bunker
Cause my brain is twisted, so I co*k the biscuit
Cause sh**'s thick, some say I'mma ba*tard of a swift b**h
Negro, funkin it with the style in your ear bro
To make you fear me like Cape without Robert DeNiro
You big p**y, so funky that you have to douche me
You can't hear me then my record label didn't push me
I know I'm sayin f** too many times in my rhymes
But if I wasn't bad, I wouldn't freak it in the line
But it don't seems to matter cause my sh** get fatter and fatter
I'll do the funk in your face and it slaps ya
How does it feel with the face full of funk
With the ba** in your trunk, weed laced with the blunt
I puff, I never got snuffed, bust while I dust your monkey
Ass off then I just crush on the hush hush
So if you want a taste of the funk from the gutter
Ask the brothers (why?) Cause I'm bad (word to mothers)
[Hook]
I'm a bad... Yo word to the mother (x3)
I'm a bad... Bad bad, and a wicked in bed
I'm a bad... Yo word to the mother (x3)
I'm a bad... Bad bad, and a wicked in bed
[Interlude]
Yo yo, check this out
This is for y'all hokey-pokey punk p**y motherf**ers
Just to show y'all I do what the f** I wanna do
I want y'all to check this on the real
And yo, check this out
Shake it! C'mon shake it! C'mon shake it! C'mon shake it!
Wha**up now? Wha**up now? Wha**up now? Wha**up now?
Whattup now? Hahahahah
(Yo Red, c'mon, get back to the track man, I wanna get out of here!)
[Redman: Verse 2]
Yo kid chill, aight aight check it out
Flexy I'm s**y when I'm standin in my drawers
If you can't check me when I'm rappin, put the tape on pause
And listen to the incredible sh** that I kick my man
Give me five on the backhand then stick
Your finger in a hole and chop the stick quick
Cause my lip get to the point, to STILL rock the fly sh**
Since you're holding your breath, I hold my j**els
I swing hardcore, so I walk, holdin my tools
The original P-Funk, takes no junk, from a chump, or punk G
I been this way every since nine months
So get down while I rip the raps from my lips cause
My sh**'s more deep, than any tape from Enigma
The gettin nice, thinkin k**er brother who pop trash
Basic instinct -- I'm a shooter and they got blasted
Much a** I kick, groove to the master mix
My song still pumps when it's not even mastered, b**h!
My sh**'s very chronic so rewind it
Cause it's like.. eh-eh-eh-eh beyond, bionic!
Cause I'm a wild and crazy guy! No lie!
Last brother to battle me I started pissin in his eye
I'm bad, word to mother to the motherf**in Hubbard
Eatin her curds and whey, puffin spliffs cause she doesn't
And if you still don't under-f**in-stand where I'm comin from
Listen to my nine, understand where it's hummin from!
[Hook]