Blue Funk - Heavy D. & The Boyz

God gave me a gift, to put people at ease

What I do is, what I do

If I was to sit down and try to tell you, break it down, you know technically,

I couldn’t

Because I don’t know, and that’s the God’s honest truth

What I do, is what I do, I hear a beat, I feel it, I write it, I say it

Check it

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk

Kick it

Hear me out, I got thump in my trunk

That’s all I really need and a bag of blue funk

Although I may be high profile, I keep a low pro style

Stay calmly, but my homies kinda wild

Mostly on the down low, now and then I hit a disco

Sport suits, drink milk, never Cisco

I read the funnies, watch Bugs Bunny cartoons

And at my crib I dig Bob Marley-ah tunes

I take a spin in my Lexus coupe, sportin' sexy suits

Sippin' sick, I sip chicken soup

I rip stages like a maniac, lyrics like a maniac

And shows get torn no matter where we at

A little bit more than better, I warm it up like a sweater

A money generator, fly honey dip getter

Like I said before, thump in my trunk

That’s all I really need and a bag of blue funk

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk (blue funk)

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk (blue funk)

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk (blue funk)

Here comes the kid, can you dig, I got the flavor

If you don’t believe me, just check with your neighbor

I get 'nough respect, from the roughest roughneck

And I’m wicked and unruly when it comes to a mic check

Drive a Jeep, catch beeps on the norm

Never say much when I riff 'cause I’m a quiet storm

Most of the time I’m coolin' in my crib, watchin' cable

And I got crazy honeys, far from dummies in my stable

I’m well known in my hood, like a gangsta

When the time is right, I’d like to have a little Heav-ster

I bust riffs, that’ll incite the dead

And beats that make you stagger like the neighborhood wine-head

I warm it up like a heater, or a funky, funky drummer beater

Brown sugar is sweeter;

beats by Peter

Like I said before, thump in my trunk

That’s all I really need and a bag of blue funk

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk (blue funk)

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk (blue funk)

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk (blue funk)

In the morning time I wake up with the sun, that’s how I get up

When I walk the streets alone, when I’m far from home, I keep my head up

Don’t swing with many strangers, 'cause to me that’s just a setup

If you’re pushin' up too close, I might be ghost and you’ll get wet up

Not into showin' off, because I’m not the show off type

I’d rather take my time, writin' rhymes and blowin' up mics

Kill, just max, make loot pay tax

On the ladies blow kisses, on the gents, tip hats

I like to swing with girls, 'cause to me it’s a ton of laughs

But after the gig is past, we on to take bubble baths

I was raised well, but now I raise hell

It’s hard to make a livin' so now I’m livin' swell

I never have a problem in the streets I’m too smooth for that

I never talk or walk with a gun, but run my crew with straps

Like I said before, thump in my trunk

That’s all I really need and a bag of blue funk

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk (blue funk)

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk (blue funk)

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk (blue funk)

La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

A bag of blue funk (blue funk)

Nuff respect, to all the funk brothers, y’all know who you are

Yeah, ya hear me man, big up all y’all

Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens, Manhattan, Mount Vernon, Uptown

Yeah