Luniz
Luniz - Funkin' Over Nothin' (feat. Harm & Too $hort) lyrics
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Track 3 On Lunitik Muzik View Tracklist Funkin Over Nuthin Luniz Track 3 from the album Lunitik Muzik released on November 11, 1997. Featuring Too $hort & Harm Produced by Tone Capone & MIKE DEAN Release Date November 11, 1997 View All Credits 1 5 [Intro: Too $hort, Interview Clips] It really hasn't been brought up too clearly The Luniz and Too $hort everything has been squashed Yeah we want everybody to know, that it's, you know The Oaktown ain't about this The media hypes up things when they're wrong But doesn't give enough praise when everything is going good We should just do a cut Don't even mention no beef or nothing Just drop it on 'em You know it's politics, that made it sound like that But it's all unified you see it's all Jesus BITCH! BITCH! BITCH! BITCH! BITCH! Man what's it all about? Ain't about shit Nigga call me up talking about man it's on Your niggas fucking wit my niggas an it's on Nigga what we fronting for? If it ain't about this money Ain't about this life an death nigga, shit What's really going on? [Verse 1: Too $hort] Jumped all in a nigga's face front him on the spot Don't cross the game unless ya wanna get shot But who made the rules, do you recall? Who's the judge when it comes to this street law? Is it me? You? Or is it my crew? My niggas get down, your niggas do too Motherfuckers try to tell me don't fuck my life Cause ain't nuthin' nice, ya gotta pay the price You know them dudes, walking in them same shoes It's brand new to you, but the game is used I got it from them old niggas, they so cool Now we just roll through, all the hoes know who Ballin' in town, don't front, it's too little Fake ass niggas get punked for your vittles So what's it all about? Think about it later To all you real gangsters, and all you perpetrators [Chorus x2: Harm] You've got me funkin' (funkin') Over nuthin' man (funkin mayne) Why ya wanna funk with me? (Niggas funk over shit!) (Speak on it boy!) [Verse 2: Yukmouth] Uh Sometimes you step in some shit you can't get out of Niggas who talk hella shit is who I'm quick to sock the shit out of Sniff powder, with all your hoes off my door Got em froze like Poconos, you're spendin all your dough On the average-ass, stanky ass, run a gank-ass Fuck everybody fast, just an Oakland-ass hoe Now I know why niggas wanna knock you out like Glass Joe All that playa hatin' shit ain't asked for You must got problems wit niggas makin they cash flow You gaffled your motherfucking youngsters So go with your old ass flow, I gots to have jaw-jacked hoe Cuz some of niggas wonder why us playas do this On the under, caught up in some shit I didn't have nuthin to do with The truth is, you know my funk is through [censored] So ride for a nigga if that nigga ain't gonna do shit You wanna be ass pimp Getting your ass whipped is like an every year event, bitch Dig it [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3: Numskull] I'm too motherfuckin much for myself So funkin' with niggas close to home is somethin' else If you ain't gonna blow a nigga head off, then that's the end it Concentrate on makin' mail and start spendin Now this is where my do it for myself begins Cause in '97 I ain't makin no new mutha fuckin friends Now I got no enemies, I hold no grudges From now on I'm overseeing my own budget (For real!) We all did our dirt nigga, but now that's all forgiven Chris, you my nigga til the ending, and I started wit Dru (me too!) I started with Yuk (Smoke-A-Lot) You're all hangin with me, so I gives a fuck Nummy-Num gone go ahead and drink his self to death Nigga you wanna chop it up wit me, go through death yourself I ain't tryin to hear nuthin', instead of throwin away skrillion, nigga I'd rather be fuckin, uh [Chorus 2x] [Verse 4: Too $hort] I signed my name on the dotted line, niggas know I did it first But when you first, you know you get it worse I suck the game up, I try to pass it on Niggas from the Bay, gettin' they cash on From Frisco, to Vallejo To the Big O, fuck that yayo Hundred thousand units make a nigga half a million dollars If you sittin' on a grip, I have to holla at you later You can get rich in a minute Two words: Distribution, Independent Make an accapella you can hear every word I spit this game you never ever heard You know how you be quick to pop niggas These record companies be quick to rob niggas I say "$hort Dogg" and now they pay me Don't pay these youngsters and watch 'em get crazy [Chorus 4x] [Outro: Too $hort] Fuck around and run up in your shit Yeah, that's the new thing going baby We runnin' up in record companies Writin' our own motherfucking checks Sign on the dotted line nigga What you really gettin'? What's really going on? Watch out Niggas in the town about to unite We going nationwide Oakland style, bitch! Oh you really thought that wasn't gonna happen? Shit Come on now