Certified

[Hook] We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need The Funk-/-oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need The Funk-/-oars [Verse 1: Hons] You think you're the shit man? We battle rats about ego This man blow his own whore like Rip Cam Get off the stage before you get your rep tarnished And your dream's shut down by the certified marksman (The Funkoars) Yes, the name that ring bells I bring war to this rap world like H.G. Wells The kids these days, they dropping albums pre-mature Ain't last a hot minute like they stuck in their war, so Hons one still dissing your crew You take it on the chin like Peter Moss finishing moo So I guess that I'm finished with you In the booth I spit a hot 16 like it was idiot proof I'm mad hungry, industry ain't give me a bite I starve the artist, want to eat, he has to swallow his pride Fuck that, I'm a Funkoar for life You can find me at the bar, downin' Jack's till I'm rotten inside [Hook] We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the rhyme [Verse 2: Trials] T fucking rum loving husband till the hangover Point fingers at the game like girl, what you bang opera? But they're wack, they're shit and they're worse It's maggot rap rim burning, high not enough Welcome nut helpers sober, never rover, clever burning To the earth, drunk fuck that can work it in a verse (Hey!) That's why I give you more of the bore More for poor kids racking 'oars from the store, listen How far for the backstage pass? Got a nice spring to it like help, it's us (Oh!) I want a hit and miss Connie, get a slice of the Sneaky sound tape and stick with a [?] Connie? Record porn store, booth in the back Try that, chew the fat till she doing just that Like, nice to meet you, rock up, knock you up Leave you rinse repeating till I got seeds for soccer season [Hook] We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the rhyme [Verse 3: Sesta] Peep the sound of the street, peep the sound of the beat Drop it, now watch me rap the shit out of beat So I, be easy if you're eager to spit I got it eager to beef motherfuckers all eager to leave Said something like "Seddy can't rap" I've seen him and he said I never said he can't rap Bad with the left, mad with the right Slow with a kick, fuck it, bad in a fight But I roll deep enough, your whole street seen with cunts Leaking guts in the gutter, so keepin up Appearences means shit to us Still the kids keep feeling our stuff And the ladies keep reaching for nuts Take away a couple of months and they weren't speaking to us (Nope) But you can't blame them, we the same Insane leather brain motherfuckers who won't change [Hook] We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!) The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the rhyme