[Sample]
Let me say something about language
We're discussing s**uality
Not everyone is comfortable talking about s**
We'll use words you may not be accustomed to
But we do this to clarify, not to shock
We hope that our openess with permission given for you (Yeah, Hurro)
We hope to help you to open the lines of s**ual communication (What's up motherf**ers?)
Between you and your partner (What's up b**hes?)
[Verse 1: Sesta]
Alright listen
You're better commit it. The lyricism is insane
Then s** a dick vien like Venom leaving em in pain
Quit the laying I been sayin I'm feelin like Rick James
These fingers itching to get at ya click, face slap!
You can't better the rapper that had a speech inpediment
Now he's badder then Mike Jack-son with someone's son
Getting him drunk, feeling him up
Feeling generous? (heh, give him a f**)
Yeh I lost it my rap here's still so so
Posing in promo photos f**ing h*mos
Into chicks over dosing getting close in
Then I'm leaving em looser than popes clothing
I poke her face with a poker face
On the first date talking about your supposed to wait
f** that I'm a Funkoar, hopeless waste of space
Toast to Sesta, A. Baker the great
[Verse 2: Hons]
Now we a hard act to follow
Ask your girl I got a hard co*k to swallow
While I swipe half ya bottle and we back for round 2
So let the speaker sound booth
Polute everybody in the club thats around you
Me? Mr. E-grade celebrity
Who'se sick of dog c*nts that are posing as a pedigree
f** them I should open scars
Like the Funkoars loose at an open bar
And that only rap about tits and arse for sure
Cos if a oar in your b**h then that b**h in awe
Yeh so check it, this sh**s become too effortless
My rhyme books pages rival that of the New Testiment
I been charmin since Bush been after Bin Laden
Ghetto pimpin in the club with ripped garments
And she still cop the stage dick
And s** sells thats the reason oars always drop your A-list
[Verse 3: Trials]
Ay well let me set it straight, then come n twist up the weather vein
24th of the 5th '83 set a date
Mr. T's name deep in the streets
Beef with me is like a three week lease on your teeth
In a few years trust me nothing has changed
Besides the fact b**hes never use my government name
It's Dan Rankine, god damn f** I'm handsome
If the hat leak seed then the skeeze hand standin
Women want a piece of the beast, rappers want a piece of the beats
And f*ggots want peace in the streets
'Til the cops kick the door, Funkoars
Pockets sworn raise hell like Robert Thorne with dumb borns
A good man is hard to find
Says who? take another look at sister she and there's two
How dare you compare you to F-U-N-K oars
Southport the soundboard