text: A wanna be gangster
  Thinkin hes a wise guy
  Rob another bank
  Hes a sock em in the eye guy
  Tank head
  Mr Bonnie and Clyde guy
  Look him in the eye
  Hes not my kinda guy
  Never wanna be
  Confusion proof
  Puddings sweet
  But too aloof
  Orange eye girl
  With blackslide Dew said
  Yo homie
  Who you talkin to
  A backed up paddywagon
  Mackin on a cats ass
  One upper cut
  To the cold upper middle class
  Born to storm
  On boredoms face
  And a little lust
  To the funky ass Flea bass
  Most in the race
  Just loose their grace
  The blackest hole
  In all of space
  Crooked as a hooker
  Now suck my thumb
  Anybody wanna come get some
  If you have to ask
  Youll never know
  Funky motherfuckers
  Will not be told to go
  If you have to ask
  Youll never know
  Funky motherfuckers
  Will not be told to go 
  Dont ask me why
  Im flying so high
  Mr Bubble meets superfly
  In my third eye
  Searching for a soul bride
  Shes my freakette
  Soak it up inside
  Deeper than a secret
  Much more
  Than meets the eye
  To the funk
  I fall into my new ride
  My hand my hand
  My hand my hand
  Magic on the one
  Is a medicine man
  Thinkin of a few
  Taboos that I ought to kill
  Dancin on their face
  Like a stage on Vaudeville
  I feel so good
  Cant be understood
  Booty of a hoodlum
  Rockin my red hood
  If you have to ask
  Youll never know
  Funky motherfuckers
  Will not be told to go
  If you have to ask
  Youll never know
  Funky motherfuckers
  Will not be told to go 
  ---
  .