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letra de quinntro (b.a.t.f.u.n.k) - batfunk

[intro]
looks like we picked out the wrong spot this evening, don’t it?
oh, this sweet music’s alright, but we always been a bunch that goes in for plenty of pep
and excitement
true
hey, i know where to go
let’s get our coats and hats and get out this joint, huh?
come on then, let’s go from here where we can have some fun
i mean
where we going?
we’re off to go get natured out of us heads? (yeah)
mint
you are now listening to the nature boy ep
yeah, you are
starring the nature boy, aka

[verse 1]
big bad bat, the jazz cat for felonious funk
i live on a strict diet of a rum, skunk, and foliage son
which might explain, why my brain’s totally f-cked
i’ll be dragging you out of your comfort zone, have you runnin’ home to your mum
i run styles that are purpose built for rugged terrain
all weather flows, that won’t drip our rust in the rain
i’ve got no real desire, to own a gun or a chain
you can find me hunting for haze, or just bullying breaks (uh)
that awkward and clumsy northern monkey
who likes his lemons blind, wolves howling and it’s water muddy
just a poor hungry recovering bulbous junkie
who’s all up in your grill trying to get that george foreman money
going in like my tea was ready
this sativa’s heavy, i’m in need of a breather, i keep it steady
eyes red and heavy resembling steve buscemi
speaking to beagle to get the better than mr. bean and his teddy
[chorus x2]
i’m the b-a-t-f-u-n-k
b-tch i’m the b-a-t-f-u-n-k
i’m the b-a-t-f-u-n-k
b-tch i’m the b-a-t-f-u-n-k
i’m the b-a-t-f-u-n-k

[verse 2]
i’m effortlessly styling on ’em
head’s realised that i was was a problem, ever since i arrived from gotham
yours will be a slow death, depicting at your spinal column
i roll with k!ller crows, f-ck a crime fighting robbing
i ain’t catching criminals, when the bat signal is visible
i’m sat blaspheming the different gods, praying for the same miracle (huh)
i’m a clinically cynical individual
the mass is critical, the spliff addiction is habitual
i’m getting stoned, with a black maids stonecutter handshake
boasting up battle stance in the acid rain
with no gasp in and a flint, trying to catch the flame
gold chocobo, hot stepping across the astral plane
i’m taking it back, like a sh-tty christmas gift
a stone baked english kid, with chrome stained fingertips
quinnie the village idiot, silly but still be k!lling it
it’ll take more than your little tin of spinach to finish him

[outro]
the b-a-t-f-u-n-k
b-tch, i’m the b-a-t-f-u-n-k
i’m the b-a-t-f-u-n-k
b-tch, i’m the b-a-t-f-u-n-k
yeah

- batfunk

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