(Hey man, don't you realize In order for us to make this thing work, man We've got to get rid of the pimps, and the pushers, and the prostitutes?)
Yes, yes, y'all
Ah, ah That's funky
Yeah Hey yo, Marley, man
Yo, what's up, man?
Hey yo, man You know We was getting busy on the album everyday We been getting funky, but I wanna take this jam back to Farmers Know I'm saying?
Yo, let's go back on Farmers And get some of them early MC's You used to be kicking it with back in the day?
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yo, let's do a jam with them
Alright, bet But first I gotta like introduce it You know'm sayin?
Aight, kick it
Back in the days, before I was Cool J I used to hang up on the corner, pumpin' Games People Play Sittin' on a garbage can, rhymin' to my man Talkin' bout big money and future plans I always told the brothers, if I got a contract When the money started flowin', I'd be back To do a jam, against all odds Introducing rapper 1 from Farmers Boulevard
Hey yo, B-o-m-b, bomb explosion Attack like a cat when I'm trapped and I'm closed in Sharp-ass claws, and I break all laws In a while all jaws, cause I'm perfect, no flaws Now I'm back to Farmers on some new improved I'm makin' moves, not fakin' moves So don't you never come around here, talkin' that talk Or walkin' that walk, you'll get played like a sport Football, soccer, whatever you savor You're a tramp and a pussycat, ready for labor Ha! I'll have you breakin locks I'll have you cookin fried rice in a big steel box The type of skills that I got reigned for years No worry or cares, your crew'll shed tears 'Hip-hip-hooray, he's back!' Yo, save the cheers Suckers, I'm drinkin' forties of beers On the Boulevard
Funky, funky, funky rhymes bein said here
Hey yo, hey yo Hey yo Uncle L, let's go
Yeah man, I wanna check out my man Big Money Grip Yo, what's up, man Kick a little something
Kick out the can and slam Summertime, C.I.A. step into the jam Reach for the mic, and the punks start to fold up And the brothers start fleeing like it's a hold-up Some step aside, but a few play me close Never worry, cause the brother who cross me's getting buried And the fool who wants to deal with another dose I see to it in a hour that the mother is comatose Farmers Boulevard, the place Handing me a mic is like giving a chainsaw to Leather face Smoking MC's in an instant At my side busting caps is T-Boogie, my assistant Throw that speaker in the trash Why's that? Cause Gangster Boogie gave the woofer a gash Big Money Grip making you get up Farmers Crew's in effect, we never heard of a head-up
Yo, yo, yo It's kinda funky out here on the boulevard, yo
Yeah, we living Chinese people in a Turkish bath, baby
Hi C over there, man
Yo, what's up Hi C
Hi C on the scene, at last to bust a funky rhyme More than a line on time, because I'm gettin mine Never underestimate the skill of a great one The Boulevard Lord, shorts, never take none Another funky rapper from around the way Leaving bodies at a party, cause somebody gotta pay Boy, you been told, put your lips on hold All you remember is a barrel and a mouth full of gold Spreading terror on the street like they was in the past Any punks on the block, yo, never could last And I never feel sorry for a sucker I gained on Any slick talker, yo, he's bound to get rained on At any Farmers party at my side is a Mag (One time a sucker got ill and went out in a body bag) Fear will erupt through the heart of another The Farmers Crew will never fall, that's word to the mother
Yo, yo It's kinda funky out here Yo, yo, yo, Hi C Yo man, y'all kinda funky out here, yo I was, Yo, what's up?
9 years ago, man Youknowmsayin?
Farmers Boulevard, baby
Yo, I was kinda, I was kinda stagnant to sleep on it But yo, L Won't you, won't you sum it all up for the people, aight?
Aight, let me sum this up
Now you heard the brothers speaking bout the street that we're from Rhymes hitting, beats kicking, you can't get none F-a-r-m-e-r-s passing the test Marley Marl in the background doing the rest Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do, do-ti-la-so-fa-mi-re-do, kato Get up out my face before I play you like Play-Doh I did a jam against all odds And it was dedicated to Farmers Boulevard
To the beat, y'all A funky beat, y'all Yes, yes, y'all You don't stop