Way 2 Fonky
DJ Quik

[DJ Quik]
Oh yes I'm new and improved, and to a funky-ass groove
My name is Quik and I'm smooth, and I'm making yo' ugly bitch move
With the streets you can't lose, but if you still want to choose
To be a sucker, I got a 380 punk, so duck her
And to you motherfuckers thinking you want to fade me?
I'm running the underground, so fool, you're crazy
And you better step, 'fore I beat you with a switch
And tie you up, and make you watch, while I'm fucking yo' bitch
Cause I'm a low-pro nigga that you should not fol-low
Putting suckers in the wind cause my voice is hollow
Put the pistol to your grill and your punk ass rolls
You grab my shit and I pull the trigger now you're missing a nose
And umm, I don't fear your crew because my back is got
Chasing nothing but the suckers when we hit yo' spot
Yeah, straight Bronx killer, mark ass niggas can't check me
But gotta respect me, cause I'm Way 2 Fonky

[Chorus]
Fonky, yeah, fonky, "you know I can't stop"
Fonky, yeah, fonky, "you know I can't stop"
Fonky, yeah, fonky, "you know I can't stop"
Fonky, yeah, fonky, yeah

[DJ Quik]
Now no sooner than I hit the fucking streets
People be approaching me, all throughout the swap meets
Asking me shit like, "When your new album coming out?"
"Is it different?" "Is it dope?" "Where yo' perm?"
What you talking bout?
I know you don't expect that a nigga gon' quit
Being nothing less than funky and banging out the dope-ass hits
Cause DJ Quik is a name that I take much much pride in
No egoes to hide in and no limos to ride in
Maybe a Cutlass or two, but still the same ol' shit
And me unclever? No never, I'll have this talent forever
The producer get funky down to the last ounce
And I'm creative too, so I don't need "Mo' Bounce"
But to you suckers in my city claiming I got a "Def Wish"
You should try again fool, you ain't hitting near this
Them wack ass tracks, make you sound like a monkey
Just a shot in the dark, from a punk-ass mark who ain't Fonky

[Chorus]

[DJ Quik]
Now when you records ain't that funky then it's easy to disrespect this
Cause you know that when I hit I didn't miss
Just like that "I'm Born and Raised," you wish you could fade
And when you picked up that album cover you knew I was paid, Tim
Cause we ain't going out and we ain't stuck in that old school shit
That boring flavor that just don't hit
Cause this is ninety-two, and yes yo' style is through
And if your record ain't selling well fool I thought you knew
That this is straight Bronx killer, straight Bronx murder
Yeah yo' city's a dump, and fool yo' shit don't bump
And 'member the "Jack the Rapper"? Yeah, your punk ass sat
That's when my homeboy D, was bout to flatten yo' cap
And you apologized to him, started kissing his ass
Saying you only dissed Compton for the money, so he gave you a pass
But you ain't moving shit on the streets
Get off the nuts of my city with them wack ass beats that ain't Fonky

[Chorus]

Written by BLAKE, DAVID MARVIN
Published by Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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