Fun-eral Lyrics - Ces Cru

Do me a favor (what?) 

Get your weight up 

Felt's in your city, we don't need any help 

Do me a favor, run that 

CES, Murs, Strange, we wrote the book for you young macks 

Pardon me barbie get your weight up 

Ryhmesayers, Strange, ain't shit funny 

Do me a favor, run that 

Slug, Ces, Murs, we wrote the book for you young macks 

Rhymesayers, minors to the majors 

Stomp around a bird cage full of papers 

Point lasers at the neighbors 

Ever since the clock got punched on my first day of labor 

Ain't no shame in my game's wagers 

Spectator on the side catch a mouth full of flavor 

Wasted, tryna walk a line like equator 

Fuck the po-po, we blow dro with the mayor 

Do me a favor, raise up away from my space 

Out my face, occupy a different acre 

Leak like a strainer, poisoned by the waiter 

Drown in the dirt, eat a fuck for a chaser 

Pardon me Barbie, this ain't a party for you Kramer 

Marking me the maker if I spark up the anger 

Minneapple-bang, Twin Cities rap sanger 

And I'm down with the strange cause I ain't no stranger 

Do me a favor (what?) 

Get your weight up 

Felt's in your city, we don't need any help 

Do me a favor, run that 

CES, Murs, Strange, we wrote the book 

We get the place jumping 

They ask Ubi to say something 

He spat and they got nothing but flames from him 

Raised up in the ring, stuck in a state of 

perpetual busting 8s off of puffing that dank 

A runaway train off of the track, rocket attack 

Roadside bomb blast, y'all talking in back, what? 

The blizzard black coffin is shut, human assassin 

Sarcophagus and a tomb, due to get wrapped up 

I'm doing the MAC strut, rose grew in the black mud 

Rap guns, I hold two, move and I pap one 

Flow's closed captioned, my text on the screen 

Everything CES doing they affecting the scene 

I'm repping with Dean, Killer City record machine 

116 pounds anorexic to me, so get your weight up 

I'm the ring with hands taped up 

Shadowboxing until clear channel mandates us, what? 

Pardon me Barbie, get your weight up 

Ryhmesayers, Strange, ain't shit funny 

Do me a favor, run that 

Slug, CES, MURS, we wrote the book for you young macks 

Fuck karma, I'm king, counter of chips, cash out 

Here to stick, a couple of real chicks pass out 

I ain't in it to win it, loser we don't need any help 

Me and MURS, Ubiquitous finna slug em till it's felt 

Pray they melt, in a fire of hell, they might as well 

All these students Zach Morris, well they saved by the bell 

Said I'm psycho, made me a cell outside of the jail 

Yeah I might glow, all because of my ghost in its shell 

New millennium rap serpent, serving em with the venom 

I'm the black mamba, you notice I'm murdering em 

Then I'm up in them guts, pussy pardon me for the slaughter 

Throw a hex on a bitch before I lead her to water 

Oughta be, chained up in a cage, I'm in a rage 

Eat a dick, bitch idiot, no this isn't a phase 

Stay way away, postal I'll probably let it spray today 

Racks to the third power, pussys have got to pay to play 

Do me a favor (what?) 

Get your weight up 

Felt's in your city, we don't need any help 

Do me a favor, run that 

Rhymesayers, Strange, got nothing but flames 

Rottenest of rascals, storming through your castle 

Dead beat douchebag, certified asshole 

Hassle at the door, he wouldn't let me in 

So I left and came back with a few more friends 

Party crashing, straight through the window 

Back in the days that bouncer stole my Nintendo 

Insufficient funds when they printing out my balance 

Never sold my soul but I rented out my talents 

What about the girls? Save something for the girls 

For a chance to push your lips, I would promise you the world 

Midtown crook from the [?] brooks 

Broke the little ladys' heart with just one look 

Before we got took we wrote the book for you young macks 

Felt's in your city, tell your boyfriend to run that 

Ante up, ante up, ain't shit funny 

Got a Rhymesayers check, and I'm spending Strange money