Ese 40'z - G-Funktion

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Artist: Ese 40'z
Song: G-Funktion
Album: The Realest
Year: 2011


Lyrics

"G-Funktion"

"Product Of The Fucking Nineties...Ha,ha,ha,ah"

(Ese 40'z Song Intro)
Hell yeah, Ese 40'z right here.
And I think it's about that time, that I drop some of that "Gangsta Funk."
What yall fools know about that "Gangsta Funk?"
Shit, it's about time I kick a track to some of that old school shit.
So check this shit out homies...
About to put it down up in this mothafucka...

(Ese 40'z Verse One)
I'm a product of the mothafuckin, "Tiny Town."
Ese 40'z on the mic, yelling, "Try Me Now!!!"
coming through with the heat, give you something to bump
I laced the lyrics to a beat, that's known to rattle the trunk
I'm reppin "South Side" bay-beh, till my soul hits the dirt
and all my soldiers walk around, with "R.I.P." on the shirt
cuz I was born on a trip, to drop some gangsta shit
"T-Town" on the rifa, with a gangsta clip
because we ride on the side, with that "Old School Funk"
blazin high, off the green, when we roll through drunk
hittin curbs, mission swerve, with the system "Knock-In"
puffing on some herb, got the hynas "Jock-In"
bending on the blocks, watching out for the foes
like when we had to pop some shots, and taking off on these hoes
pulled the cuete on a mutt, unload and let five go
had to mash on the gas, to duck a punk "Five-Oh"
and it ain't no stopping, when the party's "Pop-Pin"
"T-Town" hoppin, with the panties "Drop-Pin"
cuz all I chill with is "Bald Headed Locos"
"Tatted up, creased down...Fuckin cholos."
dedicate this rola, to the firme soldados
on the calles, with the homies, causing ruckus in the barrio
and fuck my enemigas, they despise me "Hate It"
cuz I'm a product of the "Tiny Town" New Mex created...

(Ese 40'z)
"Yeah mothafuckas, fuck all my enemigas."
"Forties right here, esssse."

(Ese 40'z Verse Two)
Creeping the calles, drink till we drown
hitting the Valle, with gees in my town
bucking the mutts, put the fleas in the ground
fucking these sluts, put the ease on a clown
every day, when we're blowing it up
unloading the clip, when we're throwing it up
tapping the keg, overflowing my cup
grab it away, let it go and erupt
fucking around, with these villainous thugs
bucking em down, now we peeling the slugs
hitting the ground, like you shot full of drugs
rotting away, with the maggots and bugs
"T-Town" is the spot, with the "Crystals Of Meth"
loading a pistol, surrounded by death
blowing a whistle, with clouds on their breath
smoking da missile, float out of the chest
spitting these flows, that I'm writing to bust
drilling these hoes, and they're biting the dust
killing em all, cuz I'm lighting em up
spilling em raw, feeling kind of corrupt
hit in the mouth, put the blood on their shirt
kicking em down, in the mud and the dirt
spitting a round, with no love put in work
cracking your crown, in a puddle of hurt

(Ese 40'z Verse Three Intro... Repeats 4 Times...)
Every time, that the cops have got me
they go and lock me down, but the pigs can't stop me

(Ese 40'z Verse Three)
So don't try and test, these "Psycho Vill-Lains"
pull out the "Smith And Wessley, Peel-Lin"
pack big heat, that get the balas "Drill-Lin"
leave you at the morgue, in a box just "Chill-Lin"
"Blue Devil" come and dance with me
you know I dance with "Blue Devils", but don't dance for free
I boogie down on the track, and never fake the funk
I mean that "O.G. Funk" that make the systems bump
and homies throw gang signs, and hynas shake that ass
booty smackin, keep it crackin, like some broken glass
so check the style, when the "Foe-dee Ounce" jump in the booth
"One Eighty Seven" on a track, when I be burning the roof
this "Hate Proof" mothafucka, got my "Hate Proof" vest
I'm puttin lyrics in a verse, put salty haters to rest
we rolling deep in the heat, on a desert "Score-Chuh"
triple digits on the creep, for some "Torch-Chuh"
but we don't mind, going to find some shade
put the brew up in the ice, trying to kill the day
just waiting on some darkness, for the late night creep
in the valley where they battle, and the towns don't sleep
we yelling "Pecos Valle, Southeast!!!"
"New Mex, Tiny Town, Belly Of The Beast!!!"
that's the place, where we dwell under the blazing sun
off in a hell, where you levas just don't want none

(Ese 40'z Song Outro)
"Where all my Varrio Trece Lokos at?"
"Where all my Nasty Boy Gangeros at?"
"Santos where you at? -East Side Bolen Park-"
"T-Town where you at? Lightin bowls in the dark."
"Merro where you at? -Familieros Gang-"
"T-Towneros where you at? Let the barrios bang."
"Mutts where you at? Probly sucking a dick."
"This Ese 40'z on the track, signing off on this shit."

"Product Of The Fucking Nineties...Ha,ha,ha,ah"