[Redman]
Mic check, I can get smooth to any groove
Relax the tongue, let my mic take a cruise

around the planet, pack em in like Janet
Jackson, she's askin if I can slam it
I'm....


[Hurricane G]
Yo yo Redman! Man what the !#@* man?

Get the !#@* off that.. punk smoov %#@! man!
Get with that ROUGH %#@! man, you know how we do!


[Redman]
Mic check, I walk around the streets with a black tech nine
by the waistline, kickin the hype %#@!

I never claim to be the best type of rapper
But hafta, show them mother$#&@ers what I'm after
I'm after the gold, then after that the platinum

Beef after that, Hurricane G packs the gat son
Trigger, bang, bang, yo bust the slang, whut my name?
It's the Redman on the funk thang

Psyche, you're mother$#&@in right, tonight's the night
To do what I wanna do, to do it like dynamite
The work perfected, when the funk been ejected

I roughen up the rough draft to like make your head split
Punk! Pass the 40 and the blunt and don't front
on the block, cause when you do front, brothers are gettin stomped

I'm not a addict, more like Puff than Magic
Then pass it when I'm through cause my crew gots to have it
I don't claim to be a big rap star

cause no matter who you are, you'll still catch a bullet scar
So listen up and take heed to what I'm sayin
Cause tonight's the night and me and my ^!$$%z ain't playin


Fat black (*##$! Nasty..
bush bear, booga breath (*##$

Nasty, talk to your tits (*##$
with them nasty Africans, Mr. Bojangles
Turned up shoes havin $$#..

Lemming leprechaun haircut mother$#&@er!

You wanna see me get cool, please, save it for the breeze

cause the lyrics and tracks, make me funky like cottage cheese
$#&@ the smoov %#@!, I get down wit the boom bip
like Q-Tip, I kick more styles than Bruce shoe's kick

But tonight's the night what I write tonight
This type of funk with the flavor like Mike'n'Ike's
Hanging out wit my ^!$$%z, my ^!$$%z

The {Pack Pistol Posse} keep they fingers on the triggers
I keep the 40 between my lap, coolin, rollin down the highway
Blunt system pumps cause it's Friday

Roll over to pick my boys up, we raise a lot of noise
cause, we can do that black, so get the bozack jack
Remember, I do the type of evil that men do

Like cursin out my window at a (*##$ and her friend too
So turn the volume up a notch
and watch the ba-BUMP, ba-BUMP, make ya speakers pop

That's the funk, when it pumps it makes your rump
jump, jump, jump.. jump, jump, jump
But if you want to see a fly but frantic

cool romantic, more Slick=er than my man Rick
You better check the Yellow Pages under smoov %#@!
cause Red ain't down for the bull%#@!

^!$$%z $#&@ed up by letting me make an album (How come rude bwoy?)
To get on the mic and let my $#&@in style run


Nasty $#&@in greenthumb Jolly Green ^!$$%z
Tango mango, pickin havin $$#
Nasty epileptic disease crazy havin $$#

Johnny Cash, afro havin
Jack of Spades, boots havin
Tony Danza, shoes wearin $$#!


B-b-b-black by popular demand, I expand
My hand to the mic and let my mouth kick the flim flam

I get sex, I get wreck, I puff mad blunts
I get vexed, I break necks, punch out gold fronts, chump
You...

Yo, $#&@ that, yo turn this %#@! off man

Turn this %#@! off, G
Boom the new record on, knahmsayin?