The Phuncky Feel One Lyrics by Cypress Hill

The Phuncky Feel One Lyrics

    Are you ready?
    Ladies and gentlemen
    Bout ready to get down?
    (repeat 2x)

    Ladies and gentlemen

    Verse One: B-Real

    Well I'm the Real one, yes the Phuncky Feel One
    Cypress Hill has come, any quest/just ask them
    Cause we are answerin, any brothers that've been
    On the dick swingin, and straight gatherin
    Enter da info, cause yo what you're in fo'
    Is a crazy day, strapped in a pimp mode
    Trapped like a prophet, but I still profit
    Even when you're off it, bank's in my pocket
    Cause of my music, what you call me chumpy?
    In my trade, the Tribe is known to get funky
    Hif is here to hack you sown, Son is here to buck you down
    Joke's on you, if you're the biggest duck in town
    You got to relax, we got to kick back
    Brothers just sit back, enjoy me like a six pack
    As I let the rhyme flow, into the hook
    Yo where you gettin took, but that's another story black

    Chorus: B-Real

    Cause I'm the Real one, yes the Phuncky Feel One
    I'm the Real one, yes the Phuncky Feel One
    I'm the Real one, yes the Phuncky Feel One
    You know I'm the Real one, yes the Phuncky Feel One

    Verse Two: Sen Dog, B-Real

    Night in a stiff block, hangin up the pimp's jock
    Used to call me Pimp Poppa, cause I likes to hip-hop
    Cause I'm down with Cypress, illin well I might
    Begin to take your girl, your girl she's the flyest
    Flyer than the other broad, workin off the pitched rod
    Isn't that odd, instead of sayin my dick's hard
    It's not about knockin you, do you feel like clockin loot?
    Forget it act stupid little sucker I'll be clockin you

    With the right or left hand, duck they was still stand
    Troopers on the side step, bucks him down to death man
    With the greater lyric, if you can spare it
    Just an ass kickin, is what you inherit
    So don't try to snake off, you know I can't be shook off
    Why the suckers took off? Well that's another story black

    Chorus

    Verse Three: B-Real, Sen Dog

    Standin on the corner, close to the real estate
    Clones they really pull stickin brothers try to imitate
    Meaning when they simulate, but they can't stimulate
    Like a faded joint, stiff from the breath I take
    Make me act loco, they switchin up my vocal
    Out to catch you so-called, MC's with a roll call
    Then you gotta close your eyes, you can't stand the sunlight
    There is just one light, the Tribe's buckin heads tonigght
    Buck buck buck ya head! Sorry that red is dead
    Deader than a doornail, someone cold made his bed
    Didn't just break out, the sucker got cracked out
    Hit the pipe and blacked out, with the shit from back down
    So much more integrity, greatest deal I hook up
    Was a funky looker
    But that's another story black

    Chorus: (together)

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