Tonight's Da Night

[Redman] Mic check,

I can get smooth to any groove

Relax the tongue, let my mic take a cruise around the planet, pack em in like

Janet Jackson, she's askin if

I can slam it

I'm.... [Hurricane G]

Yo yo Redman!

Man what the

FUCK man?

Get the FU

CK off that.. punk smoov shit man!

Get with that

ROUGH shit man, you know how we do! [Redman]

Mic check,

I walk around the streets with a black tech nine by the waistline, kickin the hype shit

I never claim to be the best type of rapper

But hafta, show them motherfuckers what

I'm after

I'm after the gold, then after that the platinum

Beef after that,

Hurricane

G packs the gat son

Trigger, bang, bang, yo bust the slang, whut my name?

It's the Redman on the funk thang

Psyche, you're motherfuckin right, tonight's the night

To do what

I wanna do, to do it like dynamite

The work perfected, when the funk been ejected

I roughen up the rough draft to like make your head split

Punk! Pass the 40 and the blunt and don't front on the block, cause when you do front, brothers are gettin stomped

I'm not a addict, more like

Puff than

Magic Then pass it when

I'm through cause my crew gots to have it

I don't claim to be a big rap star cause no matter who you are, you'll still catch a bullet scar

So listen up and take heed to what

I'm sayin

Cause tonight's the night and me and my niggaz ain't playin

Fat black bitch!

Nasty.. bush bear, booga breath bitch

Nasty, talk to your tits bitch with them nasty

Africans,

Mr. Bojangles

Turned up shoes havin ass..

Lemming leprechaun haircut motherfucker!

You wanna see me get cool, please, save it for the breeze cause the lyrics and tracks, make me funky like cottage cheese

Fuck the smoov shit,

I get down wit the boom bip like

Q-Tip, I kick more styles than

Bruce shoe's kick

But tonight's the night what

I write tonight

This type of funk with the flavor like

Mike'n'Ike's

Hanging out wit my niggaz, my niggaz

The {Pack

Pistol Posse} keep they fingers on the triggers

I keep the 40 between my lap, coolin, rollin down the highway

Blunt system pumps cause it's

Friday Roll over to pick my boys up, we raise a lot of noise cause, we can do that black, so get the bozack jack

Remember,

I do the type of evil that men do

Like cursin out my window at a bitch and her friend too

So turn the volume up a notch and watch the ba-

BUMP, ba-B

UMP, make ya speakers pop

That's the funk, when it pumps it makes your rump jump, jump, jump.. jump, jump, jump

But if you want to see a fly but frantic cool romantic, more

Slick=er than my man

Rick You better check the

Yellow Pages under smoov shit cause

Red ain't down for the bullshit

Niggaz fucked up by letting me make an album (How come rude bwoy?)

To get on the mic and let my fuckin style run

Nasty fuckin greenthumb

Jolly Green niggaz

Tango mango, pickin havin ass

Nasty epileptic disease crazy havin ass

Johnny Cash, afro havin

Jack of Spades, boots havin

Tony Danza, shoes wearin ass!

B-b-b-black by popular demand,

I expand My hand to the mic and let my mouth kick the flim flam

I get sex,

I get wreck,

I puff mad blunts

I get vexed,

I break necks, punch out gold fronts, chump

You... Yo, fuck that, yo turn this shit off man

Turn this shit off,

G Boom the new record on, knahmsayin?