| Verse One // |
| Funky DL, I’m bleeding mics / |
| I leave rappers straight dreaming bout' sleepless nights / |
| You confused yet? These kids don’t seem precise / |
| Cos' this is grown man talk, we ain’t teething twice / |
| I can’t front little shorty, yo' them beats ain’t nice / |
| It’s like your DJ can only cut pizza slices / |
| Straight poison like something I would feed to mic / |
| This ain’t therapy but take Funk D’s advice / |
| Stop faking to th streets like you eating nice / |
| You ain’t fire, you more like freezing ice / |
| And that’s stupid, kinda' like teasing Tyson / |
| When you just small fry like beans and rice / |
| I’m internationally known because my Visa’s nice / |
| There’s no beef, straight peace like Jesus Christ / |
| And I don’t know first aid but I’m breathing life back into Hip-Hop / |
| To make the feeling right cos' I’m a beast |
| (scratching) On the microphone / that’s the sound of the beast / |
| (- I’m a beast) I blaze mics / the physical ability with mental capability |
| Verse Two // |
| Funk D, ain’t no holding me back / |
| And why these rappers sound dead like they rolling in black? / |
| Straight sinning, biting apples like they stolen a Mac / |
| And can’t even come correct, yeah they fold on a track / |
| And they so past tense that I’m «tolding» them that / |
| They straight posing, it’s like Hulk Hogan is back / |
| They probably got ghost-writers who can show em' to rap / |
| So don’t recoup off no records cos they owing em' back / |
| So we don’t believe you, you ain’t growing a stack / |
| So stop talking like you crazy and you blowing some Crack / |
| You can’t know how to feast if you ain’t know how to snack / |
| You talk guns but you DUCK!!! «yeah you know when to quack!» / |
| I know it’s hard to keep up with me, you owe me a lap / |
| I don’t know where you’re heading player, show me a map / |
| And as I walk the beat, patrolling the track / |
| You have the right to remain silent, you totally wack! I’m a beast |
| Verse Three // |
| From the record to the press release / |
| It’s well known premature that I bless the beats / |
| With a sound that is bound to make your stress decrease / |
| Or a beat so banging, leave your chest in pieces / |
| If your rhymes sound dead, may you rest in peace / |
| And plus you came to the show like you dressed for Grease / |
| Now you got a new sound, wanna' test the streets / |
| You might get one spin with suppressed repeats / |
| It’s gonna' take much more to impress the peeps / |
| And have a record company re-invest at least a little money / |
| So don’t try test this beast / |
| You say you cold, well homie I suggest a fleece / |
| I’m from H.A.C., represent the East / |
| Some in North, some in West, some in South are decent / |
| Some are so old school, some are fairly recent / |
| I am Funky for so much more than a season, I’m a beast |