Come Find Yourself

I'm a nicely zooted new car owner, and I'm somewhat convoluted
because I'm living in a coma
I render those useless who pinch off my trim,
Your light they are on but your lights they are dim
I got the bushmill shots, and cops that give me props
I got the Motts, Spike, I got the Motts.
Having fun with my gun, son, its always loaded and the FLC
is raw y'all not candy coated.

Cooling on the block
With my case of Rolling Rock
Thinking up the schemes to get ourselves the knot
cause you know we love to get down and party with the big boys
They asked me to be mayor, and if I had a choice
I love you people and my boys love you too,
So fuck the king of beers this ones for you.
So if grunts from stunts is what you want say, 'ow'
the FLC with the mucho grande style

You know you can't boom with a bullshit system and you can't fix
a man when he's broke. You know you can't max if you don't pay
the tax and you can't wax the man if you choke.

You know the funk I drop is wild just like Aretha beltin',
My shit is going fast, so get your second helping,
My brain cells are dying, young women are crying,
but I keep on trying,
Like my man Jack Ryan.
You see my man is in my fae as if he has been drinking
They say that he needs space but I know what he is thinking
We have a common bond the fact we all get lifted
The rocks that hit our head have left us somewhat gifted
Its the Fun Lovin' Criminal out to represent
I know its tough being hard and politically correct
So if grunts from stunts is what you want say, 'ow'
the FLC with the mucho grande style

You know you can't boom with a bullshit system and you can't fix
a man when he's broke. You know you can't max if you don't pay
the tax and you can't wax the man if you choke.

In methadonia, they weeble and they wobble
but they don't fall down
You see, the fed has got their back
and they say it's better than crack, plus
it keeps them mellow and passive. . .

And takes them to the land of Methadonia.

There are three around my way, all day I
see them stray, up the block and down the
stairs, comin' in groups and leaving in pairs
like suckers. With their weeks supply
I and I see them selling the elixir of life

And takes them to the land of Methadonia.

I see you hangin' on my stoop, you better
swoop before I do, some jammies in your eye
because the place in which you're sent
by your liquid orange friend has kept you
from it for so long

And takes them to the land of Methadonia

I used to wear dress blues, I used to get my cues from the dudes in
D.C. with the wing tip shoes.
My boss said it was Parris or Prison, the judge said son you better
make a decision.
I chose the former because I heard it was warmer, April in Parris, hell
south of the border. They put me together, tougher than leather. Set
me on your ass because they didn't know better.

Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on.

I hold the fort left, right and center
the number running hardass punk, flygirl bender. Check the photo
finish I'm in this to satisfy parole, not posing or playing the role,
see I got more gumbas than Bobby De Niro and if I was you I'd
act like Nixon and Spiro. So smoke your pot and drink your rock
and chill where it's shady. I got more endurance than In-A-Gadda-
Da-Vida baby.

Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on.

Up to no good, with no place to go but down. . .

Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on.

Hey muneka, I think I wanna take ya
back to the lab, with my gift of gab
and a little dab'll do ya, maybe even school ya,
I'll rush your end zone like my man Don Shula
you're my four leaf clover even bending over;
I love you like rover; I'm your little lawnmower
but, lower, lower, I'm the seed sower
the funky weed grower, the mad rap thrower.
See, I'm a man's man; do you understand?
What I'm giving ain't cocked in the palm of my hand.
So take the nasty plunge plaid not grunge.
I know it's really hard when you love someone. You always
stood by me like Spanky did Stymiey and if anybody messes I'll
bust'em in the eye. And check that ass like Phil Esposito
the guido, U.P.S. next day back to Toledo.

Smoke 'em if ya gottem, if ya ain't gottem then ya hit rock bottom.

Me and my Les Paul is out droppin' science
pocket full of blunts and a full carry license
never walking streets, lookin' past my shouler acting kinda bolder
since my dog got older; I walked the walk and I aced the test
when I put the pressure on all your tendencies manifest
I'm a half spick peckerwood talkin' to the dead
I'll break into your house and I'll smell your bed.

Smoke 'em if ya gottem, if ya ain't gottem then ya hit rock bottom.

They try to move us; to use us
like Judas did Jesus; to please us
Diverting the issues to misuse the peoples
How are we gonna get them out?
How are we gonna vote them out?
When the wingtips got it locked up
Ya dig it? The freaking wingtips did it.
But some of us are wise and some of us are suckers. . .
But we all bleed red even racist motherfuckers.

I can't get with that

I see the hoes and the hustlers
piled up in clusters
since they upped the anti, and hooked up Giuliani
and the black kill the black and
Latino kill Latino; man it's evil. . .
The same damn story and a sequel
I thought I fought for what was right,
but in the end, my friend, 20-20 is hindsight.
I think I caught you out there
chillin in the Bahamas.
I take you to Miami to meet the Dalai Lama.

'I can't get with that.'

One, two, three and I come with the redneck style
because you know I get paid by the mile, like Avis
I pave this, Fast save this, everybody smile. . .
And act gracious
see I rob banks, I pull pranks, sometimes I eat
franks and knishes,best wishes, I'm vicious and here
I am again like CNN. Delivery my friend.

Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal

Yes we bug a lot and my friends is loud and. . .
I'm more freaky than Disco 2000
I scream, I yell, I bark, I bite
I'll hit you with an egg on a hot summer night
I never let the cops get wind of me
I never say die
I never take myself too seriously
Cause everybody knows fat birds don't fly

Stick'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal

Means with the green, murder on your spleen
living in a dream do you know what I mean
goateed indeed, smart like John Steed
I'll steal your girlie and I'll steal your weed
I got so much flavor. . .I always leave you chewin'
I got so many styles you think I'm from the U.N.
I broke into the White House and never got caught
and I'd be Neil Armstrong if I was an astronaut
We're always optimistic about human relations
We've got more friends than my man Peter Gatien
We're always fun loving, so don't start bugging
If your girlie comes up and starts kissing and hugging

Stick'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal

I'm a nicely zooted new car owner, and i'm somewhat convoluted
Because i'm living in a coma
I render those useless who pinch off my trim,
Your light they are on but your lights they are dim
I got the bushmill shots, some cops that give me props
I got the motts, spike, i got the motts.
Having fun with my gun, son, you know it's loaded and the flc
Is raw y'all not candy coated.

Cooling on the block
With my case of rolling rock
Thinking up the schemes to get ourselves the knot
Cause you know we love to get down and party with the big boys
They asked me to be mayor, and if i had a choice
'cause i love you people and my boys love you too,
So fuck the king of beers this ones for you.
So if grunts from stunts is what you want say, "ow"
The flc with the mucho grande style

You know you can't boom with a bullshit system and you can't fix
A man when he's broke. you know you can't max if you don't pay
The tax and you can't wax the man if you choke. (2x)

You know the funk i drop is wild just like aretha beltin',
My shit is going fast, so get your second helping,
My brain cells are dying, young women are crying,
But i keep on trying,
Like my man jack ryan.
You see my man is in my face as if he has been drinking
They say that he needs space but i know what he is thinking
We have a common bond the fact we all get lifted
The rocks that hit our head have left us somewhat gifted
Its the fun lovin' criminals out to represent
I know its tough being hard and politically correct
So if grunts from stunts is what you want say, "ow"
The flc with the mucho grande style

You know you can't boom with a bullshit system and you can't fix
A man when he's broke. you know you can't max if you don't pay
The tax and you can't wax the man if you choke. (4x)