[Intro: interview with some lady]



"Here comes the Heavster, and I know it makes you sick"

[Pete Rock and CL Smooth's "Mecca and the Soul Brother" LP]



Uhh, yeah, here we go, what

funk funk flow, funk funk flow, here we go

Uhh, yeah, here we go, what

funk funk flow, funk funk flow, here we go

This one goes out to all those... heads

KnowhatI'msayin?  Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens, Manhattan

Money-earnin Mount Vernon, can't forget the uptown

Here we go



[Verse One:]



Aiyyo turn me loose I don't produce with no buttercup

Premier got the butter cuts, here comes that ol rugged stuff

No room for no pitty-pat, petty kitty-kat rap

I jig em renege em or give em a dug em diggum smack

I seen you hangin on ghetto blocks, tryin to get ghetto props

You need to stop, you're just a ghetto flop

Here comes niggy-nack piggyback, knapsack sacky

Saki, classic like a Kawasaki, rough like Rocky

Sisters call me dadi Puerto Ricans call me papi

You can't stop me

Uhh, cause in these times of tough times

I'm coming with rough rhymes

Rugged beats I'm passin time on satin sheets

And where I came from, some come from

Tryin to diss the champion, numba one, Don Gargon

Talkin behind my back like they alla that, they ain't halfa that

Matter of fact, I'm the one who put the town on the map

Tick tock tick, things are getting thick

"Here comes the Heavster, and I know it makes you sick"

Yeah...funk funk flow, funk funk flow, here we go

Uhhh...yeah, well alright c'mon

Funk funk flow, funk funk flow, here we go

Yeah...yes, well alright c'mon

Funk funk flow, funk funk flow, here we go



[Verse Two:]



Here comes the bigger bro, I'm on the slow nigga flow

I like to do bigger show, so I can get bigger dough

I hung out in crazy states, sit down and ate crazy steaks

In the morning time I wake up with a rhyme and soem Corn Flakes

Rap is a stallion's job, hung out with italian mobs

I been around the world with pretty girls and they credit cards

Around in the Source van, got paid when my horse ran

And despite the verdict, I'm still a Mike Tyson fan

In the trench I get ruff, on the stretch, I get vexed

Eddie F's on the set who's next to get wrecked

Mr. Sweeperman, time to do the sweep up

Brothers couldn't keep up, spendin too much time with their feets up

Listen to it, this is how I do it

When I wreck a set rhymes float like fluid

Lord have mercy on those who curse me

You don't appreciate, neither-for you don't deserve me

Tick tock tick, things are getting thick

	"Here comes the Heavster, and I know it makes you sick"

Yeah...what?  Funk funk flow, funk funk flow, here we go

Uhhh...talk about it alright yeah

Funk funk flow, funk funk flow, here we go

Uhhh...yeah, well alright c'mon

Funk funk flow, funk funk flow, here we go



So break it down

"So easy does it on the DL, the Heavster"

[x8]



[Verse Three:]



Didn't it make you sick when I went pop and I kept my props 

and I blew up the spot and was large on your block

I know it did that's why you formed the committee

Of a bunch of itty bitty silly Milli Vanilli hillbilly niggies

never mind all the chitter chat, cause I got a bigger bat

Step out of line again to get your jaw tapped

Don't try to play me for cream puff

Forgot I was big stuff, rough tough, and all that stuff, huh?

You jabber jaw junkie, rap tour flunkie

Quick at the lip, but when you see me you flip like a monkey

It always amazes me, how some brother's faces be

Smilin but behind your back they talk like an enemy

But I got a sharper blade, from here I see better days

Sittin on my porch countin loot drinkin lemonade

Swingin with the shy type, girl who's the fly type

The non gettin high type, that's how you know she's my type

Tick tock tick, things are getting thick

"Here comes the Heavster, and I know it makes you sick"

[repeat until end]