Here Come the Lords

Hey, yo, Funke wake up, huh? Turn your radio up, what?

It's us, it's us? Yeah, listen to the cut, it's our style, our style?

Your style, stop brother, aiyyo, nigga, wake up

Let me show you some thin'

Listen to the way they flip the metaphors and phrases

Listen, listen, it's driving me crazy

'Cause every time I do a style and flip it kind of simple

Brothers say, that's fat and do it on the demo

From a demo to a promo, now a hit on the radio

Next thing you know, they'll be doing our video

Same one? Same one, concepts, whole nine

And crazy similarities to the whole rhyme

I'm not worried though, why? I'm flipping hits from the grill

And in the underground only real stays real, so, umm

Check the skills, the skills are kinda ill and, yo

Here come the Lords, 'cause we're here to make a kill

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Aiyyo, Marley, aiyyo whassup knocka?

Do you hear these suckas trying to clock, the Lord Chief Rocka

Yeah, I hear 'em they're just a bunch of clones on your bone

Hold up, I'm trying to figure out where could they get my style from

Aiyyo, wait a minute remember the tape, you shopped around

A while back? Yo, what wasn't that your boys? Now they got our stuff Down pat, yo, man don't sweat it just show 'em why they call you Mr.Funke, yo, Lord Jazz, pass me some of that Brass Brass Monkey

Here come the Lords, here come the Lords Mr.Funke don't you see me?

I told you we were coming you suckas didn't believe me the Skipper

My Lords style stick like Jack the Ripper, I'm hanging other rappers like Your girl hangs on my zipper, Lord Jazz, hit me one time make it funky

Stop being stingy knocka pass that Brass Monkey

I step off a stage everyone knows, who I am

Grab the mic like Teddy Riley and I jam, jam

Give me the mic and watch me wax that ass

Keep the camera moving 'cause I'm kinda fast

You can trip, you can flip, you could even slip or dip

But you'll never ever rip, Funke style as good as this

Because you sound like you're drugged you might as well be a singer

Your whimsy couldn't touch me if your name was Sticky Fingaz

So when I come around, don't try to be down, don't try to be down

Just dig the sound 'cause here comes the Lords of the Underground

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Well, umm, open up the doors and yell, here come the Lords

Yell it loud, yell it loud let me hear it from a crowd

I packs 'em, in the closet like Michael Jackson

And love to hear the girls go, oh, when I'm rocking

So catch it, no stutter in my flow but I wrecks it

And caught you on the dillz from my jam called Check It

Check it, check it, check it, check it microphone, check it

Yeah, you went wild 'cause your moms digs my records

So come on, I'm taking you where the sun don't shine

The underground but everything is fine

I rhyme, copacetic, unless it gets hectic

Your vocal chords'll get cracked, you gets no chloraseptic

So hit 'em, so chill, chill man, chill

I know who used to be but now who's Top Bill

Well, it's me and yes, I am back by the Funke

Marley filled the House with Hits so you know the Lords are chunky

We stink, like pee-eww, funk from my shoe

But what about this funk, can two brothers like us do?

But get down like James Brown and rock the whole town

Hah, and now the Lords have broke ground

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

Here come the Lords

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