FUNKYTOWN PROS - Def Do Us Part lyrics

You seem hungry--time for your four basic food groups

Understand the knowledge, wisdom, plus the damn truth

Trapped on the realm bald, the object is survivin'

Your realistical leads, day by day I'm dyin'

Say I was gone, but rhymin', I didn't do 'em

Make sure the coffin is closed, 'cause I be cryin' embalmin' fluid

No way it can be, K Born had it planned, see

Funkytown will take over the whole damn Planet E

The mic's my life, savor the rhymes I write

Favor no one, I guess I'm the only one who gave you

Lyrics to keep you full, keep your bull

I ain't lyin' or strivin' to pull

Givin' up because to shut the commercial suckers up

Second too late, reckon you hate quarrelin'

I'm on tomorrow, man, it's all night, hell up in Harlem

And you'll sleep forever, bless you I may

Flip the damn down lever 'cause you're full of sin

No repentance, your sentenced to eternity

I'll keep flamin' 'til you scream, "Stop burnin' me!"

I serve your heart, Dev will play his part

And, yo, def do us part

"The path we have chosen is full of hazards...and one path we shall never

choose...the path of surrender."

"Funkytown Foundry: Boiwundah, Devastatin', K Born, Freestyle

Manslaughter, H2, and Eternity."

We can become managers, walkin' through your ear canal

When Dev plays your drum, yo, I chill a while

Back on a mission, you seem to be all reconditioned

But as I climb your cerebrum, it looks like there's somethin' missin'

We gotta fix that--Dev, hand me a track

Don't get scared, when we take notes, we'll put it back

Oh, my gosh--you were brainwashed to act wack

Thanks to Funkytown now you're programmed to act Black

Save me old label tips, I won't play back on table rims

Reincarnate what was really rippled and words from my lips

Not a letter, more edit, I read it, I said it, forget it

No use of the brain, such a shame, you should be beheaded

Laughin' at those who hated my rhymes for being so complicated

Scientists are ionized, they don't believe we originated

When I'm deceased, I make sure you remember me

Dipped in gold label as a statue of Black liberty

Rap warrior who didn't leave his life alone

A beat, a style, and a microphone

Hip-hop: the art, and I play it smart

And, yo, def do us part