Lirik Lagu Food For Funk - Common
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TIPS PENCARIAN LIRIK FAVORIT ANDA
ANDA MENGETAHUI JUDUL DAN NAMA PENYANYI
- Ketikkan nama penyanyi dan judul lagu, berikan tanda kutip di judul lagu, misal: Yovie "Menjaga Hati";
- bila tidak berhasil, coba untuk mengilangkan tanda kutip, misal: Yovie Menjaga Hati; atau
- dapat juga dengan mengeklik menu A B C D.., lalu cari berdasarkan nama artis. Yovie dimulai dengan Y, klik Y. Lihat daftar lagu, dan dapatkan yang Anda cari.
ANDA TAK MENGETAHUI JUDUL LAGU, TAPI MENGETAHUI NAMA PENYANYI
- Ketik nama penyanyi, misal: YOVIE, akan muncul banyak halaman, telusuri dan pilih dari halaman-halaman tersebut; atau
- klik menu A B C D E ... berdasarkan nama artis Y, cari Yovie, dan cari lirik yang Anda cari.
ANDA TAK MENGETAHUI JUDUL LAGU, TAPI MENGETAHUI SYAIR
- Ketikkan penggalan syair yang Anda ketahui, misal:
Tanpamu tiada berarti
Tak mampu lagi berdiri
Cahaya kasihmu menuntunku
Kembali dalam dekapan tanganmu - Masukkan kata-kata penting. Misal: tiada berarti berdiri cahaya dekapan.
- Hindari kata-kata yang berkemungkinan memiliki ada dua versi atau lebih. Misal: tanpamu dapat ditulis tanpa mu.
TETAP TIDAK DAPAT MENEMUKAN LIRIK YANG ANDA CARI
- Pilih menu A B C D E ... berdasarkan nama artis atau judul lagu.
- Bila masih tidak dapat menemukan lirik yang Anda cari, mungkin kami bisa membantu Anda. Silakan menghubungi kami.
Common:What yo yo yo yo yoYo yo yo yo yo yo yo yoCheck it yoYou say a one for the trouble two for the timeCome on y'all let's rock that uh(I can feel the funk)(x4)Check it
I come to grips with micsI come to grips that a lot of mic users is dikesI come to grips with the likes of Fred HamptonCold so I'm lampin with no need for spotlightWhen I got light like an intersection, you talkBut you came to my town with protectionElection year, had the block hotI scream "fuck the world" for having a baby girl sorta cock blockI write rhymes like I come from the windy cityWith my crew, I click like simply, stand midi with realityCasually, I walk through these war gamesSome claim say but then they take on whore namesIf that's the way your sex drives, stay in your laneIf you're a man, I can't tell like if the door rang now
Chorus:Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the placeIt ain't a bunch of niggaz all up in your faceThe music is thumpin and you're feelin the bassWhat you wanna do girl(wanna shout)To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of niggazIt ain't high tech and ain't got free liquorYou jackin his name and stick to make you jones get thickerWhat you wanna do man?(let go)Yo, check it
Some niggaz be on the mic, sounding like dikesAllow me to get on and bust like Spike(uh)Lee, I'm in the majors with no rotationThrough stations of bullshit, I see through like a pagerIn the age of Aquarius, various thingsIs gonna carry us in intellect and what have youStreet astrologists interpret point stars and half moonsThen end up on garages or walls in bathroomsEvery black moon, a rap tune move meThe rap sun, I rain more than Rudy, that unruly shit is playedIt don't stopIt's time to get it, get it madeI got my mind made up like Foxy Brown's faceI know how the underground tastesI want a crib from the ground up, rooms spin at a round paceGet down based on true story, through Corey, came close to the teachersColder as the Iceman, posted before it start wrinklinLinkin with cats, who don't react to change in the yearsFulfill prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now
Chorus:
I can feel the funk(x8)Yo, check it, check it
I came through the corridor, with the auraRaw Chicago mora, scope the horrorRead between the lines and know the borderSome pop wines for juice, I wait in the waterWaitin for you Big Willie niggaz to have a show at The CribWe gon get with your glamour, long as we know where it isTell you ain't a player by your sweater doused with wack featherThe Crib got the gangsta playa shit patent like black leatherI rap better than you, you, or maybe himBut I am like a tree and every lyric is a timbSpilled brews and greasy foods got my car smellySome be so high, they believe they fly like R. KellyBut then they fall off, dusted niggaz is gettin sawed offThey fall soft, my mental lift is for me to haul offI kick ass
Chorus:(scratching)I can feel the funk(x16)(makes me wanna shout, wanna shout)(x4)(scratching)Wanna shout
I come to grips with micsI come to grips that a lot of mic users is dikesI come to grips with the likes of Fred HamptonCold so I'm lampin with no need for spotlightWhen I got light like an intersection, you talkBut you came to my town with protectionElection year, had the block hotI scream "fuck the world" for having a baby girl sorta cock blockI write rhymes like I come from the windy cityWith my crew, I click like simply, stand midi with realityCasually, I walk through these war gamesSome claim say but then they take on whore namesIf that's the way your sex drives, stay in your laneIf you're a man, I can't tell like if the door rang now
Chorus:Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the placeIt ain't a bunch of niggaz all up in your faceThe music is thumpin and you're feelin the bassWhat you wanna do girl(wanna shout)To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of niggazIt ain't high tech and ain't got free liquorYou jackin his name and stick to make you jones get thickerWhat you wanna do man?(let go)Yo, check it
Some niggaz be on the mic, sounding like dikesAllow me to get on and bust like Spike(uh)Lee, I'm in the majors with no rotationThrough stations of bullshit, I see through like a pagerIn the age of Aquarius, various thingsIs gonna carry us in intellect and what have youStreet astrologists interpret point stars and half moonsThen end up on garages or walls in bathroomsEvery black moon, a rap tune move meThe rap sun, I rain more than Rudy, that unruly shit is playedIt don't stopIt's time to get it, get it madeI got my mind made up like Foxy Brown's faceI know how the underground tastesI want a crib from the ground up, rooms spin at a round paceGet down based on true story, through Corey, came close to the teachersColder as the Iceman, posted before it start wrinklinLinkin with cats, who don't react to change in the yearsFulfill prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now
Chorus:
I can feel the funk(x8)Yo, check it, check it
I came through the corridor, with the auraRaw Chicago mora, scope the horrorRead between the lines and know the borderSome pop wines for juice, I wait in the waterWaitin for you Big Willie niggaz to have a show at The CribWe gon get with your glamour, long as we know where it isTell you ain't a player by your sweater doused with wack featherThe Crib got the gangsta playa shit patent like black leatherI rap better than you, you, or maybe himBut I am like a tree and every lyric is a timbSpilled brews and greasy foods got my car smellySome be so high, they believe they fly like R. KellyBut then they fall off, dusted niggaz is gettin sawed offThey fall soft, my mental lift is for me to haul offI kick ass
Chorus:(scratching)I can feel the funk(x16)(makes me wanna shout, wanna shout)(x4)(scratching)Wanna shout
