Lyrics:

A wannabe gangster thinkin' he's a wise guy
Rob another bank, he's a sock 'em in the eye guy
Tank head, Mr. Bonnie and Clyde guy
Look him in the eye, he's not my kinda guy
Never be confusion proof-uh
Pudding's sweet but too aloof-uh
Orange-eyed girl with a backslide dew said
Yo homie, who you talkin' to?
A backed up paddywagon mackin' on a cat's ass
One uppercut to the cold upper middle class
Born to storm on boredom's face
Add a little lust to the funky-ass Flea bass
Most in the race just lose their grace
The blackest hole in all of space
Crooked as a hooker, now suck my thumb
Anybody wanna come get some?

(If you have to ask) you'll never know
Funky motherfuckers will not be told to go
(If you have to ask) you'll never know
Funky motherfuckers will not be told to go-o-o-o

Don't ask me why I'm flyin' so high
Mr. Bubble meets Superfly in my third eye
Searchin' for a soul bride, she's my freakette
Soak it up inside, deeper than a secret
Much more than meets the eye
To the funk I fall into my new ride
My hand, my hand
Magic on the one is a medicine man
Thinkin' of a few
Taboos that I ought to kill
Dancin' on their face
Like a stage in Vaudeville
I feel so good, can't be understood
Booty of a hoodlum rockin' my red hood

(If you have to ask) you'll never know
Funky motherfuckers will not be told to go
(If you have to ask) you'll never know
Funky motherfuckers will not be told to go-o-o-o