[Redman]   Mic check, I can get smooth to any groove   Relax the tongue, let my mic take a cruise   around the planet, pack em in like Janet   Jackson, she's askin if I can slam it   I'm....      [Hurricane G]   Yo yo Redman! Man what the FUCK man?   Get the FUCK off that.. punk smoov shit man!   Get with that ROUGH shit man, you know how we do!      [Redman]   Mic check, I walk around the streets with a black tech nine   by the waistline, kickin the hype shit   I never claim to be the best type of rapper   But hafta, show them motherfuckers what I'm after   I'm after the gold, then after that the platinum   Beef after that, Hurricane G packs the gat son   Trigger, bang, bang, yo bust the slang, whut my name?   It's the Redman on the funk thang   Psyche, you're motherfuckin right, tonight's the night   To do what I wanna do, to do it like dynamite   The work perfected, when the funk been ejected   I roughen up the rough draft to like make your head split   Punk! Pass the 40 and the blunt and don't front   on the block, cause when you do front, brothers are gettin stomped   I'm not a addict, more like Puff than Magic   Then pass it when I'm through cause my crew gots to have it   I don't claim to be a big rap star   cause no matter who you are, you'll still catch a bullet scar   So listen up and take heed to what I'm sayin   Cause tonight's the night and me and my niggaz ain't playin      Fat black bitch! Nasty..   bush bear, booga breath bitch   Nasty, talk to your tits bitch   with them nasty Africans, Mr. Bojangles   Turned up shoes havin ass..   Lemming leprechaun haircut motherfucker!      You wanna see me get cool, please, save it for the breeze   cause the lyrics and tracks, make me funky like cottage cheese   Fuck the smoov shit, I get down wit the boom bip   like Q-Tip, I kick more styles than Bruce shoe's kick   But tonight's the night what I write tonight   This type of funk with the flavor like Mike'n'Ike's   Hanging out wit my niggaz, my niggaz   The {Pack Pistol Posse} keep they fingers on the triggers   I keep the 40 between my lap, coolin, rollin down the highway   Blunt system pumps cause it's Friday   Roll over to pick my boys up, we raise a lot of noise   cause, we can do that black, so get the bozack jack   Remember, I do the type of evil that men do   Like cursin out my window at a bitch and her friend too   So turn the volume up a notch   and watch the ba-BUMP, ba-BUMP, make ya speakers pop   That's the funk, when it pumps it makes your rump   jump, jump, jump.. jump, jump, jump   But if you want to see a fly but frantic   cool romantic, more Slick=er than my man Rick   You better check the Yellow Pages under smoov shit   cause Red ain't down for the bullshit   Niggaz fucked up by letting me make an album (How come rude bwoy?)   To get on the mic and let my fuckin style run      Nasty fuckin greenthumb Jolly Green niggaz   Tango mango, pickin havin ass   Nasty epileptic disease crazy havin ass   Johnny Cash, afro havin   Jack of Spades, boots havin   Tony Danza, shoes wearin ass!      B-b-b-black by popular demand, I expand   My hand to the mic and let my mouth kick the flim flam   I get sex, I get wreck, I puff mad blunts   I get vexed, I break necks, punch out gold fronts, chump   You...      Yo, fuck that, yo turn this shit off man   Turn this shit off, G   Boom the new record on, knahmsayin?