Lyrics
Ayo, Trace, man
(Yeah, what up?)
Man, I’m sick of all this old rap shit, man
Why don’t you drop me one of them old P-Funk beats, man
(Alright, man, bet)
Hip-hop smoothed out on the polka swing tip
With a country feel appeal to it Hip-hop smoothed out on the polka swing tip
With a country feel appeal to it Call me a rebel of some sort
AMG, I’m sippin' on a quart of OE
And I gotta pee
Hit the bombudd, now I’m seeing 3D
Bitches all around (Say what?)
Niggas tryna clown (Hey)
Right before I grab my accordion, pump the beat
I’m tossin' up a 40, and now polka
Hip-hop smoothed out on the polka swing tip
With a country feel appeal to it
(This is P-Funk, vertical joyride style)
Hip-hop smoothed out on the polka swing tip
With a country feel appeal to it