One time for your mind

(Hey everybody)

[ verse 1 ]

You know it's gots to be funky if I'ma rhyme to it

Pick up where the others left off, and I do it

With so much soul, and so much self control

I'm a smooth operator puttin rappers on hold

Flowin like a stream, the rhyme scheme seems to gleam

Like a flashlight beam, but it's no dream

It's a real type thing. And it's happenin

Caused by applause, and I'm forced to get rappin

I'm rearrangin the lines, so I can change with the times

Cockin rhymes like nines and blowin minds

I glow and shine like a beacon when I'm speakin

Skin is light, but I'm not white or Puertorican

I'm an African descendant, very independent

I make my own money so don't worry how I spend it

Rappers follow me, but I don't need another shadow

Hollow mc's, don't even think about a battle

Cause if you got the mic, and you ain't rockin it right

I'll *** it, and drop the rhyme like a bad habit

Hey, I wouldn't have it any other way

So believe a brother when I say

God made me funky

[ verse 2 ]

Now the way I kick a lyric you would think I play soccer

Rhyme stays proper, get ill, I be a doctor

Operate, like a well trained surgeon

Take the competition, bust em out like virgins

They get strung out, high dry, and hung out

Without a word like a cat took their tongue out

Their rhymes were frail, pale, weak, and stale

But I'm deliverin a brand-new style like a mail

Man, rain and hail, and sleet or snow

No need to worry, cause I'm guaranteed to show

Up, right on time with the rhyme to entertain ya

On the microphone, and leave like the lone ranger

'Who was that stranger? ' Shoulders be shruggin

Everybody's buggin

Rhymes are funky dope and keep the crowd want more

Like a junkie hopin to make that score

I'm a true soul brother, cause that's the way to be

And only true soul brothers can dance for me

Hey, I wouldn't have it any other way

So believe a brother when I say

God made me funky

[ verse 3 ]

You hear the rhymes on the radio, in the A. M.

On the am, then in the P. M., on the fm

Def Jef, and my rhymes'll stick witcha

Verses say a thousand words, just like a picture

And since I'm an artist, and my pen's a paintbrush

When they admire and inquire, I say, " It ain't much"

Rhymes flow natural like a second nature

And if you wanna get on the mic, you gotta await your

Turn, learn the fundamentals

*** some instrumentals

Practice makes perfect, so rehearsing can pay off

But for now lay off the mic

And let a real pro show you how it's supposed to go

But hold up, let me hang my coat up

Let me clear my throat up

Hm-hm, now turn my mic up

Step right up, hurry, hurry, don't miss this

Watch me light up the mic like a Christmas

Tree, see, I mean business, I ain't effin around

Put the needle on the record by Jef, and you found

A new sound and you like the way the name sound

Plus it ain't the same sound, cause it ain't James Brown

No corny lyrics, I don't rhyme like that

But when you think about comin correct - I'm like that

I wouldn't have it any other way

So believe a brother when I say

God made me funky

(Got to be) (so funky)

(Got to be)

(Get down to the funky beat)