(Carly Simon/Jacob Brackman)
Here come the priests, each one wailing and bemoaning
Lordy, they got their heads bowed down
Here come the madmen, they're too excited for atoning:
"Burn the mosque," they're shouting, "Burn it down!"
Save me a place, surround me with friendly faces
All of us have gathered here to share the end -
To watch the world go up in flames
Please, Lord we're not ready
Give us a day
Give us an hour...
Here come the kings, Let's dispense with their apologizing
Just bring on the acrobats and clowns
Here comes the rumble, Hang on for universal dying
Please ignore the baying of the hounds
Save me a place, surround me with deadly faces
All of us have gathered here to share the end -
To watch the world go up in flames
Please, Lord we're not ready
Give us some time to work things out...
Please, Lord we're not ready
Give us a day
Give us an hour...
Please, Lord we're not ready
Give us some time to work things out...
Please, Lord we're not ready
Give us a day
Give us an hour...(LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!)
In this corner we have the funk bodysnatcher
P Funkadelic and I gotcha hard enough
That I can chew a whole bag of rocks
Chew an Avenue chew an off street and off block
Then turn around and do the same damn thing to a soloist
Cause Reggie Noble's pissed
I crush your whole brain frame
Cause you couldn't maintain the funk
That have your rap style for lunch chump
Cause 92 I take a whole crew
Give them a punch of the funk, knock all of their gold tooth loose
(POO POW)
To show you what type of stuff I'm on
You can't puff or sniff it
Because I was born with it
The Funkadelic Devil, hit you with the rap level of 10
Then 1, 2, 3 You're pinned
I get action, so everybody jump wit your rump
If you like the way it sounds punk,
Pump it in your back trunk
And let loose with the juice when I do rock
I'm too hot, some say I got more Juice then Tupac
(STRAIGHT OUTTA JERSEY)
You heard me, my brother
Im laughin,
TIME 4 SUM ACTION
Lights, camera, cock back the hammer
(EXPLOSION!)
Straight from the land of the lost
I'ma hit you with the funk force
That makes you run your rap style back to the crack vile
Brotha
Then strike a pose like Madonna
My mom's kicked me out because I did what I want to
The original P-Funk stroke a trunk of funk
Then you saw caps cause my jaw snaps with the raw raps
So color me bad, plus color me black
For the funk that I pack, Red freak it to the funk track
(THE FUNKY FLY STUFF)
Come on and let me kick
(THE FUNKY FLY STUFF)
Just to show you where the HELL I COME FROM
I get dumb with the 1, 1-2
Check my rep, I'm a hit when I have sex
(like this)
Make you twist to the list
Of a funky brain cell when it's puffed on a spliff
And all that, the hi hat, go buy that,
Listen, look, OOPS, brother where your eyes at?
There on the floor, pi