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The year is 1971. Now comes the first of the children of Roton. Lords of the Underground witness the brith of the funky child, Doitall, hit 'em! Born with the funk from the womb of Brenda See I likes the Lords but you used to dig The Spinners First with the style from the birth canal And now I got the flav to make the crowd go wild Do dig it (screams) Ooh watch me kick it I'm taking no shorts unless this ?girl from my midget? I packs the piece more than chicken packed grease I'm nearly knocking boots, but if not I'll knock teeth Wahh! Gaga, ooh cries the baby Smacked on the ass now the Doitall's crazy No rattles or playpens, the crowds what I'm rapping And yes I do Reruns, as if this boy was happening Now January 14th has birthed the funk one The D-Day for Dupree and yes I'm funk-ay I got you bobbing to the funky style K-Def let 'em know here comes the funky child Yeah, born in the underground of Newark, now witness the birth of Mr. Funkee The fifth of the terror, it's the return of Funky Kreuger A.K. Anger, but yo that's Mr. Funkee Wallbanger Concieved in the fire by you warned through disaters The funky child was taught to the ways of the masters Mr. Funkee, yes girl the black mack is back Here to kick my funky style, funky this and funky that You can work kid you know, you could practice all your life But I still take the show and then I go home with the wife Oh my God, funky with the style, Lord have mercy I hurdle over rappers just like Jackie Joyner-Kersee Watch me flip the script, let me show you what the funk do Make you call me uncle (What?) Uncle (What?) Uncle (Who?) When I was younger I used to sing with my sister Now I kick the ill styles you have to call me mister Cooling in the House of Hits, time to buckwild Raised in the ways of the funky child (Funky child) (Funky funky style) (Scratched by Lord Jazz 6x) Well um, back up baby, here come the schooler We're hit when we dry crawl and hit rock 'n' roller I'm caught in the swinging, hear no ties by the Pendulum Just ???, so this is how I'm killing them K is on the M.P., Jazz is on the Technique Marley's on the mix and now the Lords have a hit like POW! Now it's time to get buckwild And watch my funky brothers freak the underground In a second, or minute, in no times flat (Flatline noise) Bring it back And go grab the album to give the Lords money Take it home to mom to say "Ain't they funky?" We gone psycho and everbody thought they did was styles They didn't affect me, I said "So what?" I kept on writing rhymes I keep my funky style perfected so no one can stop my flow I fear no man, cause if it's on fool, then it's on (And it's on) Don't worry not for other crews selling out As long as Lords of the Underground stay underground The brothers of LOTUG will keep the lyrical fitness Don't worry about me selling out, mind your business You might say "Damn, Mr. Funkee's throwing out" But if you listen to the words then you'll know what I'm about Any props you receive are the props that you earn I'm off till the funky child returns

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