*lord jazz cuts and scratches and'chief rockaand'*
Verse one: mr. funke
Boom shaka laka yo here comes the chief rocka
Rock it down so jump up off the tip youand're not my nucca
For sharper type to battle make the people say ooh ahh
Think i wonand't curse iand'll break down and say puta
?hey madrigon sesa me bichafi mi chocha?
Say what i want because iand'm that type of guy
Now fam a lam iand'll be damned, slam jams the weak
Could it be the skunk weed that makes us oh so funky?
Now hold it let me choose, couldnand't be the booze
No itand's the shoes (the shoes?) itand's gotta be the shoes!
Cause girlies, they clock, they stand around and jock
So i say boom shaka lak, grab the microphone then rock
?to think iand'm the troop, when on the mic?
?iand'll say it, it ainand't the shows kid?
?like drunk and a grump and sound over some uhhhh!?
The cat in the hat and the mouse ran up the stairs
andquot;that doesnand't make no sense!andquot; cand'mon who cares?
See even without the gift thereand's yours so donand't be tryin to knock me
I say what i want to say, as long it sounds funk
Some mcand's wanted to buy me, so they try to take stands
But they donand't understand, iand'm the motherfuckin man
I amaze and astound, rhythm up and down
Smack a group of them around, let them know who wears the crown
Whoand's-the-tip-of-the-top, the-cream-of-the-crop, the-best-under-the-sun?
Iand'm the lord chief rocka, number one, mr. funke, uhh
*lord jazz cuts and'the lord chief rocka, number one, chief rockaand' 8x*
Verse two: doitall
Well umm, boom, shak-a-lak, i got the flavors, the funk
Whew! and itand's smellin up the hip-hop
A little bit of this, a little bit of that
Mixed a, little of this, and now i gotta rap
Iand'm the, chief rocka, so i guess i am in charge
I freak it with a twist so youand'll boom it in your cars
Iand'm the, one with the flow and the grip like g.i. joe
I snatch, i grab, and then i grab the dough, see if
I was an indian iand'd still be the chief
The only other difference iand'd smoke weed in a leaf
To the hip, the hop, to the hibby to the hibbidy
Hip-hop, oh no, i donand't wanna go pop!
I got, too much soul, rhythm and blues
Randb ya see, all thatand's cool, but
Hip-hop and rap yeah thatand's where my heartand's at
Even back when i used to break on a box
Backspins for backspin, even while iand'm rappin
Before i had a record, i always kept em clappin
Freestylin on the block, now i chief rock
I always entertain, by diggin in my crux
My brain, so if itand's gonna rain let it rain
I spook you with the hit, make you jump like house of pain
Boogaloo boogaloo, shake and jump
And remember, remember, chief rocka wonand't front
*lord jazz cuts and'the lord chief rocka, number one chief rockaand' 4x*
Verse three: doitall, mr. funke
[dia] ay mr. funke
[mrf] whassup?
[dia] can i get assistance?
[mrf] for what?
[dia] for what? yo jazz, flex a cut
Well back is the backer, iand'm chillin with my knocker
And if ya got beef, then you can live with jimmy hoffa like
[duo] what goes up, must come down
[dia] but not me clown
I cut em, crack a speaker when iand'm pumpin
So jump in, and watch your earrrs start hummin
Through the block, and donand't forget to boom shak shak-a-lak
[mrf] well damn doitall can i rock?
I hear a beat i grab the mic, and then i start this workin
The kids around the way used to think that i was buggin
But they donand't understand how i feel about the funk
I walk with the funk, i talk with the funk
I eat with the funk, i sleep with the funk
I live for the funk, iand'll die for the funk
So now what do they say, when iand'm walkin up the block?
Boom shaka laka there goes the chief rocka
*lord jazz does his thing again until fade*
