Rhymes Too Funky Pt 1 Lyrics by Compton's Most Wanted

Rhymes Too Funky Pt 1 Lyrics


    Who's playing all that damn loud-ass music out there?
    (with the funky piano...) --> chuck d
    Turn that shit down, man
    Don't you know i'm tryin to get some sleep here?
    (with the funky piano...) --> chuck d
    Huh?
    What you say?
    I'll go upside your goddamn head, man
    If you don't put that goddamn music down, man
    (with the funky piano...) --> chuck d
    Woman, call 911 to get these niggas off this goddamn street
    I got to sleep now

    (compton's in the house)
    (yeah)

    [ verse 1: mc eiht ]
    Yeah, killin off suckers, it's me
    You're stupid tryin to take me for some punk mc?
    I'm here to tax dollars, raps not cheap
    Compton's most wanted, punk, rollin four deep
    Gats that i'm packin, sucker better put it back
    I'm slappin dumb girls cause my rhymes on hit
    But on the smooth tip, kickin that butt
    Had too much st. ides, and started throwin it up
    Super lyricist, yeah, cold in fact
    I'm sprayin all you faggot fake mc jacks
    Boy, i smack and rack and pack and stack
    To smash all the sucker mc's in a war-like attack
    So chill (what's up?)
    Tell these punk fools that they ran out of luck
    (hey yo eiht) what's up?
    (boy, i think you said enough)
    Chill, i ain't said shit until i call a punk's bluff
    Put you on to punishment, eiht is like your father
    Wanna beg? sucker, don't bother
    Last-place mc's think you can handle this?
    (1-2-3) sock em smooth through the canvas
    It's time to start pumpin, know what i'm sayin
    Yeah, i got the picture, i commence the sprayin

    [ verse 2: tha chill ]
    Boy, hold up, tha chill's on the stage
    C.m.w. is like a hub city army brigade
    Give no slack to no plack or no punk new jack
    Get racked like that because your rhymes are wack
    So hit me with your best shot, and boy, you see
    How tha chill and the eiht drop punk mc's
    But credit's never due to you suckers that be fakin it
    Call it a jack, but yo, i'm just takin it
    Your money, your gold, your fortune, and your fame
    So hang it up, because you got no game
    So just let up, i'm gettin fed up
    You're talkin trash, punk, just shut up
    Leave it to tha chill, yeah, i take care of business
    (that's bet, cause eiht is the witness)
    A super hype mellow compton cold chillin lyricist
    Like a scary movie suckers play fearin this
    In fact you're a pole caught in thick asphalt
    But diss my down posse, yo, i'm droppin the dogs
    So just chill as tha chill explains
    When it comes to gettin over i know all the game
    So suckers don't jock me like a backstreet junkie
    Cause c.m.w.'s cold runnin it, rhymes too funky

    C.m.w. - is that you, man?
    (yeah!)
    Keep on playin that shit, man
    I like that shit, man
    Woman, cancel that 911 call
    They ain't comin anyway, this is compton
    Man, that shit was gonna sound good in my t-bird, man

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