And I say... right about now you are rockin with the best!
 Can I get a hit? *inhale* *coughing* Thank you *coughing*
 What you're about to experience is a walk on the Funkadelic side
 Who knows better than the Funkadelic devil himself
 To all knotty head niggaz  bob to this
 Come walk with Def Squad on the darkside
 Coming to you live and direct without further adieu
 I bring to you Redman one more time
 This is Jeff Stewart and you know how I do it... god DAYAM!!!

 [Redman]
 So who's that funky nigga that's known to kick the fat shit?
 The mirror said "You are, you conceited bastard"
 *cutting and scratching of bastard*
 Done by the dogcatcher, dogcatcher, it's the dogfetcher, I betcha
 Aahhhhhhhhhhh, with the slang
 Get you coughed up from the weed it'll bust your brain
 The top notch of hip-hop and I'm on the charts
 I'm catchin applause when I rock the micraphone from the heart
 My style's foul, so look into the eyes of Lorimars
 As you can see, I drop funk bars from here to Mars
 Still rollin down the highway wit my forty between my lap bitch
 Crossin DTW, coming into my lap and
 Boy my skills are stacks, I love to do it from the back
 My style swarms over ghettoes like crack
 Blow in any hood and puff a blunt with any nigga
 As long as we both got, it don't matter who's gun bigger
 But I bet you you can't do that, cause the multiplatinums
 can't save your ass on the block, and you're fucked if it ain't pop
 The funk is blowin wattage out your fuckin trunks
 Like peak Puma, I known to give a whole lots of lumps
 Props I got, coming through your block nine cocked
 My socks, even got three-eighty-nine shots
 Don't press it, I hang em like them niggaz do in Texas
 You don't have no heart you chestless, cuz your heart's on my necklace
 I give props to real MC's like KRS-One
 Kool G Rap, Buckshot, Busta me and I'm from
 The East coast!! Where a nigga like you get that fat?
 And since you came out gassed, well I'm closin your gas cap
 The creature, from the deeper, ultimate funk freaker
 Represent New Jersey, keep your eyes up on the bleacher
 A menace like Dennis, I got game like Ennis
 I can french-kiss my lyrics, then I run trains with sentence
 Lord have mercy! It's too much funk to cope with
 Droppin dope shit after dope shit, we're atrocious
 That's from the lungs, that rings from here to kingdom come
 And I don't have to be a Special Ed to get dumb