Text:
God Gettin Funky

Traducere: Dumnezeu Gettin Funky. Peşte-spadă.

, Brown Yo, I don't mean to brag, there's the tag Brown got a brand new bag Shining star up to par, bars guitars So far so good, gettin' greater at last

Luscious bitch, she is true But it's not nice to fool Mother Nature The proud mother of God, like all hoes Is, is jealous of her own shadow Who is this

trees What's wrong with these real G's, goin' in all stank Everybody pullin' out a bag of dank, shit in the air, so funky stank What the hell, might

of gab and gettin lifted by the gift, I start to jab The rhymes that I grab send schools to the slab As I write scores, the funky orator's gone on some

, now check the hard hit ("Jam Master.. Jay") about to flip Slide for a minute but I won't slip son God had my back since ("day.. one") Back to the track

like a go-go? Oh no My lip be sort of kickin sort of funky like a hobo Sucker, I'm like a hype hip-hop gangster gettin dumb Instead of shooting guns I

for fun Bein the dopest on my block made me ranked number one No gun, just a pen and notebook paper by the sheet In the crib, gettin funky off the next

gettin' played like a sucker? Or do you say, get a job, motherfucker? Everyday the story gets better He's wearin' dirty pants and a funky-ass sweater