What Son What Lyrics - The Mix Tape, Vol. 4: 60 Minutes Of Funk - Funkmaster Flex

[Noreaga - talking] 

Lets keep it grimy! (get with that shit) 

What y'all niggaz get man? 

What y'all gets murder unit (murder unit) 

or burn unit (burn unit) 

Get a real fuckin life unit (real life fuckin unit) 

A real unit; a motherfuckin, CNN shit (CNN!) 

My nigga Swift on the motherfuckin fours (fours) 

We thugged out y'all (what!) 

Yo, yo.. we thugged out y'all! 

[Chorus: Capone-N-Noreaga] 

[N] I say I don't really give a fuck 

[C] Why do don't really give the fuck? 

[N] Cause I don't really give a fuck 

[C] So we don't really give the fuck 

[N] You gon' roll with me? 

[C] Hell yeah 

[N] What son what!? You gon' roll with me? 

[C] Hell yeah 

[N] What son what!? You gon' roll with me? 

[C] Hell yeah 

[N] What son what!? You gon' ride with me? 

[C] Hell yeah 

[N] What son what!? You gon' die with me? 

[C] Hell yeah 

[N] What son what!? 

[Capone] 

Right every bill I stack another war, story and track 

Settle down for money; hungry cats peddle the crack 

Some strive to be the man but never make it that's the granted further 

What part you playin the game, who gonna slash worker 

Some'll pray to Jesus, I pray to Jes to free us 

Don't look for bail Rufus bail Criminal Court 

When a judge holla Father you sure? 

Cats never sent a nigga to jail, they send him bail 

I been as real as I stealin free lunch 

I got the greats from this old man give me hearse and, 

I made a move from a plan scauwered new land (fuck a blue van) 

My shoes bang, ficticious niggaz, walk in the path that I lead (I lead) 

Do crime in New York, money and murder 

Gentleman talk, ball like Atlanta Hawk 

No respect, this on the stacks of the court 

I started off in the street thing, triple it's on 

[Chorus] 

[M.A.Z.E.] 

Ya niggaz livin a lie, spittin the same 

Its no room, no BI for y'all in the game 

See me I, stay where it pop 

Off the chain like my diss and it rocks 

Movin the same is the strippin the spot 

I'm hot, rock glizzery from the bottom to top 

Grizzy, don't let it pop, didn't he spy on these hoes 

To piss off the killer in me 

Me and six will slick through it (through it) 

Bronx river to the con do it 

I see Don P calm as me, like spazin dead on your cheek 

Like green to my eye, shit, write it down sincere 

Get to say my name in the air 

Niggaz pipe down, put they mic down 

Niggaz scared that we ain't even drop yet 

Yet this year we show ya all who the hottest (hottest) 

The projects, I rep to my death (rep it nigga!) 

X'd out hoes, we regulate (X'd out hoes!) 

We ain't sharin or fillin 'boes; see how we go? 

[Chorus] - with Noreaga adlibs 

[Noreaga] 

Keep the Mac under the seat 

To fast niggaz ready to creep 

And my niggaz stayin with heat 

Like the hook go - what son what!? 

Like the shit go - what son what!? 

See me in the hood though 

With a hood though, with a little puppet 

And we doing no good though 

Pussy sub, pussy sub, through the club 

Niggaz don't need no math 

I rather, get head, I don't need no ass 

Fuck all of y'all, y'all don't really rep for me 

I mean you, and you ain't the set for me 

I'm in different vicinities, gettin high with your enemies 

So niggaz better stop playin 

Before I get the M-One and just start sprayin 

Keep your block on lock, so now you go 

Nigga, I sell bricks like my name Alpo 

[Chorus] 

[Mussolini] 

It's no rumor what you hear about us in clubs 

Or freight some young Blood 

No vest protect the shot for your mug 

Snake niggaz hear the move, every chance they get 

Rap niggaz I'ma dead 'em on the advance they get 

Hustlin niggaz, I catch y'all Uptown 

Soon as papi hit you, I'm right behind you holding it down 

Ya niggaz, got it confused 

Pop bottles and boo's 

Might fit, make you come out of your jewels 

A little more richer 

Every sixteenth spit a little more sicker 

Rap for M.A.Z.E. cause that's my nigga 

I spit it for the streets 

My bitches and freaks, lacking four to twenty G's 

Thugging every week, stylin out, Violator I'm wildin out 

MU and thugged out, them hoes talkin about 

We off the yell dogg, the entire know this song 

Cause me and M.A.Z.E. bet fire, thugged out strong, motherfucker 

[Chorus] 

[Norega] 

Huh? Huh? We say what son what!? 

Huh? What? Yeah (stop playing.. motherfucker) 

Yeah, yeah; we say what son what!? 

Huh? Huh? Yeah, yeah; we say what son what!? 

Huh? Huh? Huh? Yeah yeah, we say what son what!? 

Burn unit, burn unit; my nigga Swift on the motherfuckin four's 

What what? 

{*Noreaga continues to adlib in background*} 

[Funkmaster Flex - over end of Noreaga] 

Yeah, Capone-N-Nore baby! 

Thugged Out! Shout to Martin Moore 

Shout to my man Gina 

Things is happenin baby 

Sixty Minutes of Funk Volume Four (okay) 

Shout to Irv Gotti (ill sound, murder)