God Made Me Funky

One time for your mind<br><br>(Hey everybody)<br><br>[ VERSE 1 ]<br>You know it`s gots to be funky if I`ma rhyme to it<br>Pick up where the others left off, and I do it<br>With so much soul, and so much self control<br>I`m a smooth operator puttin rappers on hold<br>Flowin like a stream, the rhyme scheme seems to gleam<br>Like a flashlight beam, but it`s no dream<br>It`s a real type thing. and it`s happenin<br>Caused by applause, and I`m forced to get rappin<br>I`m rearrangin the lines, so I can change with the times<br>Cockin rhymes like nines and blowin minds<br>I glow and shine like a beacon when I`m speakin<br>Skin is light, but I`m not white or Puertorican<br>I`m an African descendant, very independent<br>I make my own money§ so don`t worry how I spend it<br>Rappers follow me, but I don`t need another shadow<br>Hollow MC`s, don`t even think about a battle<br>Cause if you got the mic, and you ain`t rockin it right<br>I`ll grab it, and drop the rhyme like a bad habit<br>Hey, I wouldn`t have it any other way<br>So believe a brother when I say<br>God made me funky<br><br>[ VERSE 2 ]<br>Now the way I kick a lyric you would think I play soccer<br>Rhyme stays proper, get ill, I be a doctor<br>Operate, like a well trained surgeon<br>Take the competition, bust em out like virgins<br>They get strung out, high dry, and hung out<br>Without a word like a cat took their tongue out<br>Their rhymes were frail, pale, weak, and stale<br>But I`m deliverin a brand-new style like a mail<br>Man, rain and hail, and sleet or snow<br>No need to worry, cause I`m guaranteed to show<br>Up, right on time with the rhyme to entertain ya<br>On the microphone, and leave like the lone ranger<br>`Who was that stranger?` Shoulders be shruggin<br>Everybody`s buggin<br>Rhymes are funky dope and keep the crowd want more<br>Like a junkie hopin to make that score<br>I`m a true soul brother, cause that`s the way to be<br>And only true soul brothers can dance for me<br>Hey, I wouldn`t have it any other way<br>So believe a brother when I say<br>God made me funky<br><br>[ VERSE 3 ]<br>You hear the rhymes on the radio, in the a.m.<br>On the am, then in the p.m., on the fm<br>Def Jef, and my rhymes`ll stick witcha<br>Verses say a thousand words, just like a picture<br>And since I`m an artist, and my pen`s a paintbrush<br>When they admire and inquire, I say, "It ain`t much"<br>Rhymes flow natural like a second nature<br>And if you wanna get on the mic, you gotta await your<br>Turn, learn the fundamentals<br>Grab some instrumentals<br>Practice makes perfect, so rehearsing can pay off<br>But for now lay off the mic<br>And let a real pro show you how it`s supposed to go<br>But hold up, let me hang my coat up<br>Let me clear my throat up<br>Hm-hm, now turn my mic up<br>Step right up, hurry, hurry, don`t miss this<br>Watch me light up the mic like a Christmas<br>Tree, see, I mean business, I ain`t effin around<br>Put the needle on the record by Jef, and you found<br>A new sound and you like the way the name sound<br>Plus it ain`t the same sound, cause it ain`t James Brown<br>No corny lyrics, I don`t rhyme like that<br>But when you think about comin correct - I`m like that<br>I wouldn`t have it any other way<br>So believe a brother when I say<br>God made me funky<br><br>(Got to be) (so funky)<br>(Got to be)<br>(Get down to the funky beat)