Soul Flower - Gutter Remix Instrumental

My mama told me one day

That some real good things would happen

If I practice all my dancin' and I practice all my rappin'

Well before she goes to bed at night

My mama would always say that everything would come together

Every dog would have his day,

Now able on cables table when I freak the funk

I got more tricks up my sleeve than Freddie's got junk

No need to do no Judo or no kicks like Karate

'Cause I can get funky like a baby on a bottle

Oh what the heck

Niggas just wanna get wrecked to the track

It's brand new and heavy as a Chevy and in fact

The Pharcyde is coming and I hope we're not wack

But at this point there's no turning back

But to be exact, I've got more flavors than a bucket full of fruit

In 92 we make some cash and in 93 we make the loot

Because the vinyl is delicious

I'm the nigga who's ambitious

Michael Ross is the genie he's giving our wishes

One, I wanna just jam with your band

Two, you gotta play it all across the land

Three, the plan is grab the ducats and say fuck it to the critics

Hey now

I was walkin' down the street balin' to the beat

Phat beats in my head tennis shoes on my feet

Nigga tried to flex but he had to be smoked

So I shot him in the ass on the downstroke

I shot in the ass on the downstroke (What!)

Shot him in the ass on the downstroke

Yeah (I shot him in the ass on the downstroke)

Shot him in the ass on the downstroke

Shot him in the ass on the downstroke

Shot him in the ass on the downstroke

Shot him in the ass on the downstroke

Souped on the beat like a bowl of chicken noodles

I love Spanish dishes but no I'm not Menudo

I can dig Kung-Fu I flip hoes like Judo

Never date a chick who has a mom named Bruno

A anna bonanna bananafanafuno

Yet you know Shafino

Met her in a trio

Souped up my glass jet flew her ass to Rio

I'm somewhat Creole

Don't like the man of steel

I'm not your carbon copy but your first rap jalopy, for real

I used to deal but the fuzz popped me

I had the hydros but they repo'd my crops and steel

I chills like scotch on the rocks

Cause I just gets paid for them hard-core props

You know?

How long can you freak the funk?

How long can you freak the funk? (Freak the funk)

I separate the good stuff from the junk (freak the funk)

Yo, How long can you freak the funk (freak the funk)

(Freak the funk)

It's all right

(Freak the funk)

I swear to tell the whole truth and nothin' but the whole truth

Ever since I was a little snot nosed, snaggletooth

Whippersnapper, I knew to become a rapper

With flavor that of chocolate fudge

Here comes the judge and jury from the fury got me on trial (trial)

Because I never copy and I got me own style (style)

A juvenille professional

Cuthroat when it comes to stepping on toes

Now the police got my fingerprints and profile