I guarantee you, no more music by the suckas
No more music by the suckas
No more music by the suckas
Yo man, what do he mean by suckas, man?
Yo, he only tryin'-a put a black guy in a gang
But yo, we ain't gonna let you put a black guy in a gang, boy
You know what I'm sayin'?
(Now we come to the payoff)
Yeeeeeeaaah boooooyeee, ha ha
Cold medina, cold medina
Rockin' the beat to the strenf
Yeah boy, I got a solo boy
That's right, Flava goin' solo
Whatch'all know about that?
Yo, we gonna kick the flavor like this
Yo, bust this out
I'm lampin', I'm lampin', I'm cold cold lampin'
I got loowies boy, I'm not trampin'
I just came from the crib you know
I'm on the go, throw your tank into metro
Live lyrics from the bank of reality
I kick the flyest dope maneuver technicality
To a dope track, you wanna hike get your backpack
Get out the wack sack
I'm in my Flav-mobile cold lampin'
I took the G upstate cold campin'
To the Poconos, we call the hideaways
A pack of franks and a big bag of Frito Lays
Flava Flav on a hype tip
I'm your hype drink, come take a big sip
I'm in position you can't play me out the pocket
I'll take the dopest beat you got and I'll rock it
Like chocolate, even vanilla
Chocolate, strawberry -- sarsparilla
Flavors are electric, try me get a shocka
Didn't I tell you leave Flavor Flav alone, knocka?
A clock on my chest prove I don't fess
I'm a clocka rocka, rockin' with the rest
Flavor in the house by Chuck D's side
Chuck got the Flavor Flav, don't hide
P.E. crazy, crazy P.E.
Makin' crazy loowies for the shoppin' spree
You're eatin dirt 'cause ya like gettin' dirt from the graveyard
You put gravy on it
Then you pick your teeth with tombstone chips
Casket cover clips, dead women hips you do the bump with -- bones
Nuttin' but love bones
Lifestyles of the livin' dead
First ya live, then you're dead
Died tryin' to clock what I said
Now I got a murder rap
'Cause I bust ya cap with flava, pure flava
We got Magnum Brown, Soothki Valoothki
Super-cala-fragi-hesti-cala-goothki
You could put that in ya don't-know-whatcha-said book
Took-muk-yuk-duk-wuk
Shinavative ill factors by the Flava Flav
Come and ride the flavor wave
In any year or any given day
What a brotha know, what do Flavor say?
Why do the record play that way?
Primetime-arily in the day
Right now this radio station is busy -- brain-knowledgeably wizzy
Honey drippers, you say you got it
You ain't got no flava, and I can prove it
Flavor Flav the flav of all flavor
Onion and garlic, french-fried potatas
Make your breath stink, breath fire
Make any onion the best cryer
I know it sounds crazy but it fits perfect
Peter perfect, pimped a perfect Peter
Honey dripper, sucker sipper, big dipper, sucker dripper
Drippin' suckers 'til it's goin' outta style
Creatin' somethin' for the Flavor Flav pile
Flava Flav the flava of the pile
Lampin' boy medina style
Kickin' the flava, gettin' busy
Ya goin' out, I think you're dizzy
I think ya hungry 'cause ya starvin' for flava
Flavor most, put it on your toast
Eat it and taste it and swallow it down
Imperial flavor gives you the crown
Of the king called Flava, the king of all flavors
Rolls and rolls and rolls of Life Savers
Flavor Flav is in everything you eat
'Cause everythin' ya eat got flava
Flavor Flav is the first taste you get in the mornin'
Ya breakfast is the flava
In between that ya lunch, in between that ya dinner
In between that the midnight flava
That's right boy
Cold Lampin' With Flavor Lyrics performed by Public Enemy are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Cold Lampin' With Flavor Lyrics performed by Public Enemy is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD