lirik lagu funky funeral – street military
[kb]
yeah…
this be kidnapper…
and, roah’s up on that funky funeral, n*gga…
and, that klondike kat, n*gga…
(klondike kat laughs maniacally)
ain’t nare n*gga gon’ f*ck wit’ me, i ain’t no f*ckin’ punk, and i ain’t’s to be fronted, g. full of that cess, strapped in a vest, i used to let them n*ggas shoot me in my chest, i can’t be put to rest. a murderer, kick*doe burglar, you never heard of a gangster*predator, deathwish on every competitor. ain’t nare n*gga gon’ take me, b*tch! i ain’t down for that talk, n*gga f*ck that hoe*sh*t. i step like a champ who packs a sneak attack, professionally done, or authorized, or chest won’t crack. step to me, you m*th*f*ckas won’t live, kidnapper got a grammy, went platinum for sn*tchin’ kids. none of you hoes bet’ not step to kb, shot a n*gga in his chest, ’cause he said he don’t like me. drove by his funeral, d*mn it ain’t funky enough, bust out some shots, now i’m a n*gga his family can’t trust. told my mom “i’m gon’ die by the trigga, don’t bury me next to no hoe*ass n*gga.” if a n*gga gon’ take me, i won’t pray for a miracle, for every n*gga i take, there’ll be a funky funeral…
[klondike kat]
run, n*gga run…
pharoah got ‘ya point*blank range with them gun…
50 slugs in a n*gga skull, where him from…
south park, texas, eulogy this is one…
watch ’em come, watch ’em come…
run, n*gga run…
pharoah got ‘ya point*blank range with them gun…
50 slugs in a n*gga skull, where him from…
south park, texas, eulogy this is one…
watch ’em come…
[pharoah]
i ain’t the one to be slippin’, ’cause i think too f*ckin’ fast, so come on and try’n steal me, and watch i block it, and drop ‘yo ass. my back is against the wall if i’m at a party, ’cause ain’t n0body gettin’ behind me, and when i’m finished, i’m keepin’ 40. bottle in my hand, just incase some sh*t start, i’ll bust a n*gga ass with 8 ounces, and a quart. jack me for my ride? bullsh*t, you know i know that game, infrared in my lap, f*ck up, and it won’t remain. i grab my sh*t so quick, if i look in the rearview, and see you sneakin’ up wit’ ‘yo gun, thinkin’ i don’t see you. i’m lettin’ that window down slow, turnin’ around on ‘yo ass, lettin’ that red flash, then lettin’ the lead blast. same thang goes, when i visit them hoes, packin’ my sh*t for the p*ssy*whooped*ass negro, that like to fall in love, and claim a sl*t*b*tch, pharoah trust no hoe, they all can suck a d*ck. so, don’t come frontin’ me ’bout ‘yo gal, i done f*cked, ’cause how the h*ll she “your gal”, if she out there gettin’ stuck? but i’ma be sure to watch my back, incase ‘ya want me. f*ck up, and watch ‘yo ass be the victim of a funky*ass funeral…
[klondike kat]
run, n*gga run…
street got ‘ya point*blank range, with them gun…
50 slugs in a n*gga skull, where him from…
talkin’ about that houston, texas, ‘yo we bring redrum…
n*ggas be wantin’ to step’ up, we be comin’ wit’ the mask, straight pullin’ them tec’s, bustin’ them caps up in that ass…
straight from houston, texas, and you know we’ll never fall…
run, n*gga run, ’cause we k!llin’ all of y’all…
[kb]
all of y’all….n*gga!
we k!llin’ all of y’all, n*gga…
(all of y’all)
funky funeral on that ass, n*gga…
that n*gga kidnapper, that n*gga roah, n*gga…
that n*gga klondike…
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