Certified

[Hook:]
We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
The Funk-/-oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!)
We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
The Funk-/-oars

[Verse 1: Hons]
You think you're the shit man? We battle rats about ego
This man blow his own whore like Rip Cam
Get off the stage before you get your rep tarnished
And your dream's shut down by the certified marksman
The funkoars. Yes, the name that ring balls
I bring war to this rap world like H.G. Wells
The kids these days, they dropping albums pre-mature
Ain't last a hot minute like they stuck anymore, so
Hons one still dissing your crew
You take an honour cheat like Peter Moss finishing moo
So I guess that I'm finished with you
In the booth I spit a hot 16 like it was idiot proof
I'm mad hungry, industry ain't give me a bite
I starve the artist, want to eat, he has to swallow his pride
Fuck that, I'm a funkoar for life
You can find me at the bar then at Jack's 'til I'm rotten inside

[Hook:]
We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!)
We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!)
The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!)
The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the rhyme

[Verse 2: Trials]
T fucking rum loving husbands 'til the hangover
Point fingers at the game like girl, what you bang opera?
But they're wack, they're shit and they're worse
It's maggot rap rim burning, high not enough
Welcome nut helpers sober, never rover, clever burning
To the earth, drunk fuck that can work it in a verse. (hey!)
That's why I give you more of the bore
More for poor kids racking 'oars from the store, listen
How far for the backstage pass?
Got a nice spring to it like help, it's us. (oh!)
I want a hit and miss Connie, get a slice of the
Sneaky sound tape and stick with a [?] Connie?
Record porn store blue from the back, try that
Chew the fat 'til she doing just that
Like, nice to meet you, rock up, knock you up
Leave your bitch repeating 'til I got seeds for soccer season

[Hook:]
We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!)
We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!)
The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!)
The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the rhyme

[Verse 3: Sesta]
Peep the sound of the sweep, peep the sound of the beat
Drop it, now watch me rap the shit out of beat
So I, be easy if you're eager to spit
I got it eager to beef motherfuckers all eager to leave
Said something like "Seddy can't rap?"
I've seen him and he said I never said he can't rap
Bad with the left, mad with the right
Slow with a kick, fuck it, bad in a fight
But I roll deep enough, your whole street seen with cunts
Leaking guts in the gutter, so keep it up
But [?] means shit to us
Still the kids keep feeling our stuff
And the ladies keep reaching for nuts
Take away a couple of months and they weren't speaking to us
(nope) But you can't blame them we the same
Insane leather brain motherfuckers who won't change

[Hook:]
We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!)
We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!)
The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
The Funk-funk-/oars (WE CERTIFIED!!!)
The (funk) for your trunk, we got the shit that you need
We got the (funk) for your trunk, we got the rhyme