Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Reload, cock back the hammer
Slam another dope funk tune
From here to Alabama
With the funky guitar I light another cigar
And just like Aretha or maybe Darth Vader
I'll use the force source, here goes the toss
Ill 1-0-1, so make for no fun
Of the skill I'm a spill out
My grill till I fill
The Funkdoobie will, competition's nil
So do the Chubby Checker
Don't step into my sector
Protector, deflector, the Vocal Avenger
"Here I am to save the day"
Yo, it's the powerful like the Chicago Bulls
Giving you an hour full, the paragraph
Catapults something like this
In a bat cave, Son is like a fat wave
Wipin' out MCs, yo, who need to shave
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
I stroll when I roll like Nat King Cole
Whose got a whole lotta soul
The people I've stole, yo
I flow in a pattern all the way to Saturn
And like the Green Lantern
Or better yet Santa
I'm so gifted, but different deliverin'
All types of styles, son
I know you're ignorant
Let me shed bright light so
Check out the highlight
You best to swing bright
'cause now you's in the Twilight
Zone make it known that I could take a stone
And crush it with my vocals
That fly to Acapulco
Chill with the coconuts, Son is a loco-nut
Messin' with the girls with the
Big fat Dakota butts
Check out the single with the ill jingle
Go eat a Pringle, mingle, or play Bingo
'Cause I get funky on the drums like Ringo
Guess I'll be out like a bird or a single
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah c'mon, y'all
C'mon, y'all c'mon, c'mon y'all c'mon, y'all
Ya know I'm a swing like BB king
A no type of flava while
I eat my chicken wings
I plan, stand, I'm grand land
Another ill throat to the ear and
Heads explode, yo, off the funk mode
Ya best ta hit the road 'cause
Son's got the fat load
I'm skinny like Gilligan
Ya know that I'm a ill again
Didn't think I'd kill again
I'm out like a pelican
Never try to step up, always keep your rep up
In other words head up
'cause I'll just get fed up
And knock your ass out just like a juggernaut
I hate poker
Don't ya know Son can hold his spot
I'm not a wicked sorcerer, maybe an enforcer
Of music that ya know I'm writin' my brother
Hold a second, wait a second, end of record
It's about time that y'all
Just get buck naked
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
Rock on rock on rock on rock on
'Uh C'mon Yeah! Video (MV)
FunkDoobiest - 'Uh C'mon Yeah! Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Reload, cock back the hammer
Slam another dope funk tune
From here to Alabama
With the funky guitar I light another cigar
And just like Aretha or maybe Darth Vader
I'll use the force source, here goes the toss
Ill 1-0-1, so make for no fun
Of the skill I'm a spill out
My grill till I fill
The Funkdoobie will, competition's nil
So do the Chubby Checker
Don't step into my sector
Protector, deflector, the Vocal Avenger
"Here I am to save the day"
Yo, it's the powerful like the Chicago Bulls
Giving you an hour full, the paragraph
Catapults something like this
In a bat cave, Son is like a fat wave
Wipin' out MCs, yo, who need to shave
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
I stroll when I roll like Nat King Cole
Whose got a whole lotta soul
The people I've stole, yo
I flow in a pattern all the way to Saturn
And like the Green Lantern
Or better yet Santa
I'm so gifted, but different deliverin'
All types of styles, son
I know you're ignorant
Let me shed bright light so
Check out the highlight
You best to swing bright
'cause now you's in the Twilight
Zone make it known that I could take a stone
And crush it with my vocals
That fly to Acapulco
Chill with the coconuts, Son is a loco-nut
Messin' with the girls with the
Big fat Dakota butts
Check out the single with the ill jingle
Go eat a Pringle, mingle, or play Bingo
'Cause I get funky on the drums like Ringo
Guess I'll be out like a bird or a single
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah c'mon, y'all
C'mon, y'all c'mon, c'mon y'all c'mon, y'all
Ya know I'm a swing like BB king
A no type of flava while
I eat my chicken wings
I plan, stand, I'm grand land
Another ill throat to the ear and
Heads explode, yo, off the funk mode
Ya best ta hit the road 'cause
Son's got the fat load
I'm skinny like Gilligan
Ya know that I'm a ill again
Didn't think I'd kill again
I'm out like a pelican
Never try to step up, always keep your rep up
In other words head up
'cause I'll just get fed up
And knock your ass out just like a juggernaut
I hate poker
Don't ya know Son can hold his spot
I'm not a wicked sorcerer, maybe an enforcer
Of music that ya know I'm writin' my brother
Hold a second, wait a second, end of record
It's about time that y'all
Just get buck naked
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
Rock on rock on rock on rock on
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Reload, cock back the hammer
Slam another dope funk tune
From here to Alabama
With the funky guitar I light another cigar
And just like Aretha or maybe Darth Vader
I'll use the force source, here goes the toss
Ill 1-0-1, so make for no fun
Of the skill I'm a spill out
My grill till I fill
The Funkdoobie will, competition's nil
So do the Chubby Checker
Don't step into my sector
Protector, deflector, the Vocal Avenger
"Here I am to save the day"
Yo, it's the powerful like the Chicago Bulls
Giving you an hour full, the paragraph
Catapults something like this
In a bat cave, Son is like a fat wave
Wipin' out MCs, yo, who need to shave
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
I stroll when I roll like Nat King Cole
Whose got a whole lotta soul
The people I've stole, yo
I flow in a pattern all the way to Saturn
And like the Green Lantern
Or better yet Santa
I'm so gifted, but different deliverin'
All types of styles, son
I know you're ignorant
Let me shed bright light so
Check out the highlight
You best to swing bright
'cause now you's in the Twilight
Zone make it known that I could take a stone
And crush it with my vocals
That fly to Acapulco
Chill with the coconuts, Son is a loco-nut
Messin' with the girls with the
Big fat Dakota butts
Check out the single with the ill jingle
Go eat a Pringle, mingle, or play Bingo
'Cause I get funky on the drums like Ringo
Guess I'll be out like a bird or a single
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah c'mon, y'all
C'mon, y'all c'mon, c'mon y'all c'mon, y'all
Ya know I'm a swing like BB king
A no type of flava while
I eat my chicken wings
I plan, stand, I'm grand land
Another ill throat to the ear and
Heads explode, yo, off the funk mode
Ya best ta hit the road 'cause
Son's got the fat load
I'm skinny like Gilligan
Ya know that I'm a ill again
Didn't think I'd kill again
I'm out like a pelican
Never try to step up, always keep your rep up
In other words head up
'cause I'll just get fed up
And knock your ass out just like a juggernaut
I hate poker
Don't ya know Son can hold his spot
I'm not a wicked sorcerer, maybe an enforcer
Of music that ya know I'm writin' my brother
Hold a second, wait a second, end of record
It's about time that y'all
Just get buck naked
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
'Uh C'mon yeah! (C'mon) yeah
Rock on rock on rock on rock on