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lirik lagu redman - tonight's da nite (remix)

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who wanna have a motherf-ckin orgy?
word is bond word is me
smokin mad blunts and all the fronts and
funkadelic hit you with irrelevant heyyyy
check it out whatcha want and
go on with slang well get to bang rockin my thang

i’m known for smokin -ss cracks til i get -ss flashbacks
micr-phone check i walk around the street with black tecs and knapsacks
so all my n-gg-z if you’re f-ckin damage let me hear ya you can
-bo bo bo bo bo bo bo- now did you catch a victim? h-ll no
come back in to fatten to funky tracks
blast a motherf-cker until you’re peekin through his back
i rock it til, b-tches start givin up that punany
cause my brain is twisted, funky realistic on the i’ll sh-t
pajamies, up the coochie, p-ss the cl-t, p-ss the loose sh-t
then boo-yaa, i gave you another shot of the good sh-t
don’t believe me why your p-ssy breathin hard enough to pinch
so check me the original joe pesky freak the s-xy
i got more gadgets than the inspector, go-go jet-skis
the cl-toris, dangle it from my c-ck i don’t feel sh-t
cause, that’s the way it goes when tonight’s da nite
then swoop through your troops knock the boots on your cutes
grab you for your loot, wrap my f-ckin chain around your tooth
i stick the nine between your eyes and blast you outta sight
the music feelin funkadelic and the mood is right
blunts by the boxes, i smuggle the chocolate thai to get me high when
cause that’s the way the knotty-headed n-gg-, rollin right
i ran through more n-gg-z, than any kid that was adopted
plus an ostrich couldn’t swallow my c-ck, quick cause it’s stopped which
makes the soopaman luva get stockings by the flocks b-tch, hrrrahhh
so on and on and let me kick the rab
that light skinned brother with mad shaft up your f-ckin -ss

you wanna see me get cool, the original rude bwoy, f-ck with the new toys
like pistols, i dismiss crews, so order some new boys
blast the funky buddha’s lockin ash up in my body
for fozzy patsi i bring sad days to n-gg-z constant…
..ly! freak funkadelic phrases cause i’m true school
i’m f-ckin madonna down to smurfette down one down to m’bufu
plus i’m rollin blunts with n-gg-z ashes
funks formatic, the fat sh-t, the wicked basket from caskets
i deserve an oscar for pullin glocks out n-gg-z mouths ’cause
smoke on the choke, light a toke until it’s proper
i kill like that, plus i roll like that
i’m that guy with cerebral-palsy even bo knows that
but f-ck that, we drop the new runner to get some ganja
goin uptown, we check benny red out, he pulls the smack out
the loo-pay, rank near my nost to rock the block
then roll up the bills-nilz, or better yet the pute
back, trigger-hap, p p p rockin that unity
hittin n-gg-z upside the head with rocks in socks, glock on c-ck
motherf-cker! yeah yeah motherf-ckers, it’s on it’s on it’s on

throw your hands in the air, and wave em like you just don’t care
and if you haven’t been f-cked, by the soopaman luva
oh yeahhyeah! funkadelic, hit you with the irrelevant
let me hear you say, oh yeahhyeah!
facts and max, and on and on my crew pull gats
flick slaps em back, come on and f-ckin up tracks
kick the mad wicked, bricks to stick it
come on and, i get wilson like pickett then stick it
she wanna check me when i’m lickin your -ss
do you remember this, b-tch, i know you’re kinda hearin this
and lickin ya down to your cl-toris
style that i’m kickin, yes i’m mad wicked
funkadelic, runs the mad train up your -n-s!
nope, i didn’t mean that
baby, cause i’m famous!
the mean fat black fat tracks and old dreams at
i’m all teen strapped, sports a bean hat
want to rhyme to be down, but homey ain’t gonna bean that


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