You can call me T double o to the L-o-double - yo
I'm 2 Low, that funky little brother, yo
Comin back with a brand new cut
And you can new jack swing on my -
Cause I got this here so tight
A young playa doin damage to the mic (you sho' right)
I'm 13, but I ain't dumb
So bring it on if you little bustas want some
Cover your dome because it's on once again
And I'm a young playa that's known to win
I got my street sense from these hardcore streets, trick
And I'm comin real, cause I ain't bumpin no weakin
Pass me the mic and let me kick it for the old folks
All the O.G.'s back in the hood that once sold dope
Jammin 'Happy Feelings', I'm leavin on the next train
Learnin the game, so when I'm grown I be set, mayn
Got a bank account, so I can stack some g's
And have nice things like Cutlass on d's
Fresh candy paint, kickin it live
And hit them switches before I'm old enough to drive
My teachers can't stand me cause I give em no respect
But I ain't sayin "M'am, yes M'am" until you're signin me a check
So you can miss 2 Low with the bump rap
I'm gettin paid, makin a's, forget the dumb crap
You ain't my mother, so that means I'm not your son
So in reality, miss, you gets none
I'm gettin busy, gettin busy on this track for ya
Funky - yeah, cause I'm the funky lil brotha
(I'm just your funky lil brotha)
Cause I'm the funky little - brotha
(I'm just your funky lil brotha)
Cause I'm the funky little - brotha
(I'm just your funky lil brotha)
Here we go once again with the real hits
Throw your hands in the air if you can feel this
I bring styles after styles after styles, dukes
I can't be faded with this here, cause I'm a young troop
I sport them Nikes, not the Reeboks or K-Swiss
And while I'm on the subject of feet, let me say this
I beat your down like I'm Bruise Lot
And let me squash this here: real gees do die
Give it to me, baby, let me show you what my juice like
Let me hit the switches, let me show you what my juice like
Rippin up shop for '94 like a chainsaw
Makin them say, "Oh man, little bro raw!"
And I can square this here off right
I'm straight from where these gees don't fist-fight
They got they 9mm ??????
Tust enough to get your punk butt licked up
It's not 'bout the set I claim, cause I don't bang
I'm just a gee from the hood who let em hang
And that's word to the mother, your funky lil brotha
(You'se the funky little what?)
Cause I'm your funky lil - brotha
Yeah man
Yeah man!
It's goin down right here
Me and you
What up
Where is Cedric?
Where is Cedric?
Here I am
Here I am
Well, how are you today, Sir?
Very fine, I thank you
Well, smoke one, fool
I don't do that, fool
Well, it's Face rippin shop with my funky lil brotha
(I'm the funky lil brotha, that's word to the mother)
Pass the killer, lil brotha, let me hit me some dank
(I ain't with that, homie, I'm tryin to make me a bank)
I pass it over to my brother, now he's ready to flow
(You crank it up, damn fool, cause I'm ready to go)
I be the Face (I be the Low) and we the real deal
Puttin bustas on they back like we Evander Holyfield
(Flowin on the beat is what I'm known for)
And the funky lil brotha is who this song for
Once upon a time there lived Lucky
But Lucky got bucked because Lucky tried to buck me
(Tried to buck you how?) Hey yo, I gave that boy some scratch
He came up short, that's when he got sidetracked
Had to cut him up like a tractor
With that pick-pick-pick, you little busta, I holler atcha
(But you ain't gotta worry with that mark no mo')
Why you say that, Low? (Cause I'm the funky lil brotha, yo)
You kinda right
But you trippin, you trippin!
Come on!
Yeah
That's fat, that's fat
In the house like that
Come on, come on!
Hey, hey
Is that funky or what?
What you gonna say about that, eh, Joe, Mike Dean?
That's what's on?
Aight
Hey
Hey, what's up Jay?
I see you ??? on the horn
We just gon' roll out with the track
Come on