The Hoodies (2017) | Funk Flex | #Freestyle082

Album cover art for "The Hoodies (2017) | Funk Flex | #Freestyle082" by Funkmaster Flex

Funkmaster Flex - Rap

The Hoodies (2017) | Funk Flex | #Freestyle082

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[Verse 1: E-Class and Young Poppa] Ay, yo, yo, uh-huh, uh, yo, yo, yo Ay, yo, we blood brothers Got the same father and the same mother Never let the money get in the way like Wayne and Stunna I'm from the gutter, openin' the fridge, you gotta shake the butter 23 to 2 in the field, that's Undertaker numbers Poppa on Flex, it's finna be a murder I was forced to get this cake like my name Tina Turner Time to giddy up, I ain't livin', it's time to live it up F… yo! … [Verse 2: E-Class and Young Poppa] Yo, it's time to giddy up, I ain't livin', it's time to live it up I see shit different from this side, that's Forest Whitaker I'm different, ain't in no position to try and give it up This shit 'bout to get real nasty like chlamydia He don't write for me I don't got Twitter fingers, I get different with these, you better type for me (Uh) Hoodie season, that was bully season (Uh-huh) We was chillin' in the cut, now my hoodies eatin' You heard what Poppa said, yeah, you know my hoodies eatin' Violate the gang and you gon' get that A Boogie beatin' Poppa is the future, think not, you get penalized Flex, what's up? We here! Let's go, let's go, let's go, come on Listen, uh, uh, uh, I'ma go Yeah, let's go [Verse 3: Young Poppa and E-Class] Young Poppa, that Drizzy talk really over(Uh-huh) Ain't no bubble in your name like flat soda (Yeah) My boys workin' all week like Passover (Turn up!) And y'all rollin' funny, like bad strollers (Uh-huh) Young Pops in the buildin', turn the lights on (Uh-huh) A young hitter, always got the ice on (Go!) You a garter snake, brother, I'm a python (Go!) And all I do is spit fire like Dylan (Yes!) I talk real on Flex, like I'm Mysonne You mad at the Hoodies, let bygones by bygones (He's here!) Knock you out with one hit like I'm Tyson (Uh-huh) My watch dipped in water, the Poseidon (Keep goin'!) And Poppa get that money in this city (Yeah!) We ain't hard to find if you wanna come and get me (Uh-huh) Everything the Hoodies touch is comin' out litty (Yeah!) A young G, even got the Lox runnin' with me I'm the son of a G (Uh-huh) My brother's a G You already know my hoodies on the come-up with me If I ain't runnin' with Class, then I'm runnin' with Flea And you not valid in my city, unless you a G And that's a fact! Who you know gettin' bands at eleven? (Damn!) Class got them gods with him if you wanna test him (Yeah!) I'm from the Ville, baby, I keep it real, baby They say they comin' for Pop, I'm standin' still ba-by (Keep goin', go!) Flex, let me go right now, I got some heat for this The whole country's callin' me baby B.I.G And there's no need for a back-to-back, I'm gon' eat on this I'ma touch the people in Bronx and all the streets with this (Uh-huh) I'm the last hope, so let's rap, bro I'm the one who could bring the real back, bro (Yes!) Talkin' 50, Jay-Z, Jadakiss feel (Yes!) T.I., Jeezy, Ludacris feel (Yes!) Called my big bro and I told him, "Let's go" (Uh-huh) Next thing you know, the Lox in the whip fo' It's the Hoodies, and we not tryin' to tip-toe Ay, yo, I put the bar for Pop Let's play limbo [Verse 4: E-Class and Young Poppa] I'm from the bottom of the barrel (Uh-huh) Crap smother me, clinchin' onto my brother Makin' sure he don't crumble up with all the others No mortal man can touch us We only stop if I self-destruct, I got a hundred 100s up front if you want something from us Dream girl took the lead like she Jenny Hudson (Go!) [?] I'm 'bout to bend the [?] (Go!) I could've sold dimes, rollin' round with a nine piece But my watch cost nine, on my left, it's a dime-piece Dreamed of coppin' Givenchy, drivin' through Harlem topless I'ma do that regardless, figured I'd share a part of me (Uh-huh) I'm from where my brothers don't think logically, full scholarship to college Use their financial aid check to cop a brick, get popped, lose all of it Ironically, my bro smooth, just finished school, more power to you Stick with the power moves, anybody could move some powder, cop a Audi I'd rather cop the Audi and dip out in it I'm exactly where they said I wouldn't be at They mad 'cause I ain't take that, flip that and got three back Mad that my pops ain't gotta do that fifteen flat Pointed all my flaws on my songs, just let me rap They say I only rap about drugs, guns and killin' Well, shit, the government put us in this position Where it's poverty-stricken, drugged youths and liquor sippin' These children go to prison before puberty can hit 'em I see y'all undercover racists in my comments Y'all got a lot bolder since Obama left that office (Uh-huh) Call me a nigga, I got my diploma Told Poppa he can't pop until that honor roll blow up See the difference? Who's really a nigga? Who's really ignorant? Smarter than you think, but you rappers ain't get to witness it No, I wasn't born with these privileges you was given I got this God-given gift I gotta feed my children with I ain't lackin', I ain't leavin' neither (No!) I can't lack, I gotta get back, yo, I gotta feed 'em meaner (That's a fact!) How can I leave her? That's why a nigga always eager To break 'em, beat 'em to pieces while Poppa do the clean-up Touch me in this city? Don't try, homie It's nine on me, I'll hit you and make you 540 Some of the niggas I ride with gon' ride for me All of the niggas I ride with gon' ride on 'em All my bros solid, that's a finnact Told the bro Poppa that I got him and I meant that Gimme a hundred bands, you know I'm gon' spend that Big bro need a bang for the buck…ungh! Yo, my city rock with me, what about yours? Pop with me, Glock .50, I'ma go off (Uh) Stop trippin', my pieces hit and I'm never lost Hoodie Gang, they bitin' and bitter, I'm better, dawg! [Verse 5: Young Poppa and E-Class] Hatin' on me 'cause I got a little fame Once you start to build the name, these people start to change (Go!) My town too little for the snakes and the vultures Don't do it for the fame, I do this for the culture (Right!) They color me bad, 'cause of my diversity After a while, the hate really started hurtin' me (Yes!) Got the heart of a warrior like my name Hercules No [?] for the people still in the dirt with me They don't want me to preach, I know y'all like bars (Uh-huh) Like how I got hitters (yeah) and drive foreign cars (Right) But I watch my black men fall into the cycle We all coldhearted, but labeled as disciples Racists in the comments, I swear they so triflin' They don't know my heart's colder than liquid hydrogen (Whoo!) If you stoppin' me, you could just settle down 'Cause everything off my hat sharp like Kung Lao Ay, yo, it's Hoodies over everything I can do anything And I ain't gon' stop until Carmelo get a ring Gang! (Gang! Bars!)

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Credits

Writers
  • E-Class and Young Poppa