Lyrics
FUN
written by peter kim, armand mcwilliams, ralph dalton
Come on, everybody, let’s all get down
What we have, is a brand-new sound
Get up out your seat, baby, gather ‘round
To hear some funky brothers, from Chi-town
Well Chi knows this (what), and Chi knows that (what)
That y’all some hoes… ‘cuz y’all can’t flow and I
Know, I’m Phee, HANIBL up, to bat
Rap for my Puerto Rican, Asian, and Blacks
It goes, one, to the two, to the three, to the four
soundtrack, Phee, and Rah comin’ through your front door
We’re about to make an entrance so back on up
It’s house music, let me “jack you up”
Now who’s from Chi City, I’m from Chi City
If you want from my city, then you sh** ty, what a pity
Uh, so let’s get this clear: HANIBL be the
Name this year, get the f*** up out of here
After all is said and done, will you say that you had fun?
After all is said and done, will you say that you had fun?
It’s like I can’t breathe, but I refuse the air
You know I can’t see, but I can always feel you there, so I,
Go for the ‘Go, you know, go toe-to-toe
I flow, blowin’ apart MCs who blowin’ smoke
Soak it in, inhale, instead of chasin’ tail
We need a leader they would place in jail
Behold, the Roman Empire is about to fail
And HANIBL’s the motherf*** in’ final nail
‘Cuz the good life ain’t good enough,
I wanna make life good, I don’t really want somebody’s stuff
‘Cuz long, after I’m gone, it’s all, gonna belong,
To them, unless we come together like Constructicons
I’m in, I’m all in, there’s no going back
Now that we have us a president who’s actually black
If you dare to dream, then this is your soundtrack
Look beyond fear, there’s hope beyond that
I’m a slave, I’m a slave, I’m a slave, to the rhythm
Hot bars on the microphone is what, I give ‘em
Party music and alcohol, a whole lot of women
It’s hip-hop, baby, what a way to make a livin’
Back to get, all respect, to those who break they
Neck, try to keep their lives in check, ‘cuz yo they
Be drippin’ wet with sweat, we come correct
Over the beat we magically connect
Ha! Sicker than your average, Armen spit
Knowledge on instinct, ballers think sh** don’t stink
Can’t fade us – peace, Detroit neighbors –
Milwaukee to Brooklyn, good lookin’… damn right
I’m up in the headlights, rep Chi every night
Keep it old skool with a blunt and a brew
sh** ’s cool, makin’ moves, never fronted
North Pole to the Hundreds, this Chi sh** , we on it