What it P like? Lyrics by Jay Worthy
(Feat. George Clinton, LNDN DRGS, Del the Funky Homosapien, Aceyalone)
Go ‘head, go ‘head, go ‘head (She ain’t a girl to watch)
Go ‘head, go ‘head, go ‘head (She ain’t a cover girl, ow)
Go ‘head
What it be like? Yeah, ha
Or what it P like? Ha, yeah
Still thuggin’ under street lights, yeah
Still grippin’ on the steel pipe, yeah
Dead wrong, but it feel right, yeah
Long live on a t-shirt, yeah
I’m just really tryna hold my head
All the homies really tryna get red
Where he from? Now we on your head
Boom, boom, left his t-shirt red
Laurence Fishburne runnin’ like fled
‘Til he locked up feelin’ like Fred
Twenty-five, just another state prison
This ain’t the county, hell nah, this is prison
Islam and Percenters, the woods and the peckers
Fuckin’ how he feelin’, he just hope they appeal it
The real know I speak the words, I’m a teacher
Gettin’ high as the motherfuckin’ bleachers
Mama take my temp, shit, I got a fever
Can’t catch my— gotta breathe deeper
Oh, yeah, I’ll make him a believer
Touchdown, end zone like I’m Deion, yeah
Still thuggin’ in my cleaters, yeah
Ha, free G Fleeter
What it be like? Yeah, ha
Or what it P like? Ha, yeah
Dead wrong, but it feel right, yeah
Dead wrong, but it feel right, yeah
Marchin’ through the march and we holdin’ torches
Pitchforks and things to prove what the force is
Rhymin’ with vigor with the styles I deliver
If you actin’ wild for a while, I’ll forgive ya
More seasoned flavor that hit the pot
Came with the shit I got, maybe I’ll get my props
Funk is functional, now I got a hundred of you
Take that away, what you just playin’, substitute?
Know I’m with the funk fully
Gotta bully my allies if my allies are bullies
Can’t let ’em play you, life ain’t a fable
Do for yourself, don’t think I’m gonna save you
Read the manual, find out how it’s made
Before you get played, just learn how to play
Back by popular demand, paparazzi glance
Tryna peep who exactly got the hot hand
What it be like? Yeah, ha
Or what it P like? Ha, yeah
Dead wrong, but it feel right, yeah
Dead wrong, but it feel right, yeah
Ooh, what it be like? What it Acey like?
To the Good Life straight from the street life
Back in the day, they wanted to give your boy three strikes
Nothin’ but love for my homies, live the G life
It’s more dust, I’ma kick it up for ’em
Punish them fools, hell nah, I don’t know ’em (I don’t know ’em)
Stayin’ polished, get off my bumper
Hard in the paint and I got my jumper
And my thumper, case he ain’t learned
Ball ’til you fall, everybody get a turn
Spliff still burn, blowin’ smoke on it
Ain’t even want it, I just wanna make a dollar
Button my collar, pop it on the planet
The reason I don’t dress because I caught ’em red-handed
And they can’t stand it, ’cause I’m so organic
Pullin’ up into your function like the mothership landed, ooh
You got funk or you got style
You’re funkin’ and you’re styling all the while
Whether you got funk or you got class
You’re out on the floor movin’ your ass
She ain’t conscientious about her talk
