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Soul Flower (Remix) (Acapella)
by
Fatlip
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Lyrics
Dude, just tell 'em about the new group from California Ah dude, yeah, man, it's this dude named Romye, man, he's like hot, dude, he's like Dude, that dude is, that dude is cool, man. That dude can bust the cool rhymes, man Yeah, he has like the cool rhymes, man. Kick that, yo Alright, what we doin' right now? Eep opp oop ah ah, Eep opp oop ah ah Eep opp oop ah ah, Eep opp oop ah ah Eep opp oop ah ah People hear and wonder and they wanna know how and why But let me first introduce myself, I'm tagging name Romyе I'm 22 years of age, I ran across some bullsh*t Pеople promise you bowl of cherries but don't forget there are pits No hints, it's quits, it's back to water and grits They got another boy who can rhyme and do the fly flips And that's I, hi, I better get by because my ally About to flip that crazy sh*t while I go look for some thai I need some zig-zags, zig-zags I need some zig-zags How I need those zig-zags I need some zig-zags, zig-zags How I love to get high Eep opp oop ah ah, Eep opp oop ah ah Eep opp oop ah ah, Eep opp oop ah ah Eep opp oop ah ah, Eep opp oop ah ah Eep opp oop ah ah, Eep opp oop ah ah Oh, what the heck N***as just wanna get wrecked to the track It's brand new and heavy as a Chevy and in fact The Pharcyde is coming and I hope we're not wack But at this point there's no turning back But to be exact, I've got more flavors than a bucket full of fruit In '92 we take cash, '93 we take loot 'Cause the vinyl is delicious, I'm the n***a who's ambitious Michael Ross is the genie, he's giving our wishes One, I wanna just jam with your band (Two, two, two, two, two) You gotta play it all across the land (Three, three, three, three, three) The plan is grab the ducats And say "f**k it" to the critics, hey now I was walking down the street bailin' to the beat Phat beats in my head, tennis shoes on my feet N***a tried to flex but he had to be smoked So I shot him in the a** on the downstroke Shot him in the a** on the downstroke What? Shot him in the a** on the downstroke (Yep) Shot him in the a** on the downstroke Shot him in the a** on the downstroke Shot him in the a** on the downstroke Shot him in the a** on the downstroke Shot him in the a** on the downstroke Shot him in the a** on the downstroke Shot him in the a** on the downstroke Souped on the beat like a bowl of chicken noodles I love Spanish dishes, but no, I'm not Menudo I can dig Kung Fu, I flip hoes like Judo Never date a chick who has a mom named Bruno Or Edna bonedna, bananafanafuno Yet you know Shafino, met her in a trio Souped up my gla** jet, flew her a** to Rio I'm somewhat Creole, don't like the Man of Steel I'm not your carbon copy but your first draft jalopy for real I used to deal but the fuzz popped me I had the hydro but they repo'd my crop and steel I chills like scotch on the rocks 'Cause I just gets paid for them hardcore props You know? How long can you freak the funk? How long can you freak the funk? I separate the good stuff from the junk How long can you freak the funk? Yeah Freak the funk (Alright) Freak the funk Freak the funk Freak the funk (Yo homie, freak the funk) Freak the funk (You know it's time to change) Freak the funk (Once again it's the—) I want the farmer man (Farmer man) I want the farmer man (You want the farmer man?) Yeah, I want the farmer man (You don't want no farmer man) Give me the farmer man (Once again it's the farmer man) I go from Skip Scott to hip-hop to be-bop to P-Funk Cutting enough bullsh*t to turn a tree into a tree trunk 'Cause we've sunk ships from the Pacific to the Atlantic I dig dips who've got the hips that are gigantic 'Cause I'm frantic, take you in a frenzy Takin' you out is easier than pullin' a pull-out out of a Benzie Box when I rocks the orthodox styles to make you squirm Yes, I come from Cali, no, I do not have a perm I stand firm on the mic device when I gets nice Don't roll the dice if you can't pay the price I got more flavor than 7-11 Slurpees If Magic can admit he got AIDS, f**k it, I got herpes Damn! Ooh, ooh, ah N.S Oh, oh, oh, N.S., N.S Sounds like N.S. to me Let me spray you Eep opp oop ah ah, Eep opp oop ah ah Eep opp oop ah ah, Eep opp oop ah ah N.S., oh, that's National Security but it's Numb Skull
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