Food Fight - Digital Underground, Del The Funky Homosapien

Game 11

This is a federal food fight

(You better know it)

That means we’re callin' out all you cooks and crooks

(What? We’re about to rip this shit)

Oh, me?

My name is Humpty Hump

(There's a party in here, baby)

I’m the original big-nosed rapper, baby

(You better get down with this, baby)

We’re about to sling hot food all over this piece, yeah

(Just nothing but a food fight)

Here we go, back in the house for the 9-whatever

(Food fight)

With the bacon and egg sandwich

You ain’t bringing groceries, G

Your groove is getting rude over records

But can you sling the food like this?

You better bite this, if you wanna make the people move like this

Chez wa, Allah, cheese burger

Flame broil base, my pickle make ya wiggle

You’re busted, my mustard will wax your whole plate

By itself, not including all my funky condiments

Nod your head to this and duck down

As I commence to lock and load a fresh cantaloupe

Yo, I’m illin', I’m slingin' melons like the felons are slangin' dope sacks

So max but I wouldn’t stand so close up in the light

Either bring it or hide 'cause it’s about to be a food fight

(You need something for the food fight)

We hit you in the neck with a cheeseburger

(Gotta bring food to the food fight)

Yeah, bruh, we hit you in the neck with a cheeseburger

It’s classic, slapping brothers with some lettuce from jurasstic

I counteract it with the Shock with hamhocks

From brothers who might 2Pac

Fifty-seven black too hard but lots of flows

Fat like hippopotamus, still caught 'em though

In the face with excrements, peep my testaments

I bring the seasoning paprika

Eureka for the weaker, and smoke the reefer

Dribble up the funk in the beaker and, yes, about to say, «Speaker»

It leaks in your ears and years ahead

I went to Japan and they was throwing pork balls

But I’m calling protocol, stop

(You need something for the food fight)

We banked you in the neck with the cheeseburger, come on

(Gotta bring food to the food fight)

Yes, we’re slugging the chicken nugget to your grill

(You need something for the food fight)

Get ready, we’re coming fetti with the groceries

(Gotta bring food to the food fight)

Someone shoulda told ya, it ain’t over 'til it’s over

Now if I am what I eat I hope I ain’t a big couchie

Gotta substitute the 'Ouch' for the 'Ooch'

If so, I hate to see my man Donnie O, he’d be a butt hell

Substitute the 'Ell' for the 'Ole'

Actually, factually, hella fools I know would be tore up

If you was what you ate, no fakin'

My man Nate would be a plate of bacon

My brother Shock popcorn, and my cat would be a rat

My girlfriend would be some super sperm and things

My rich nigga 'Pac would be a lobster with hot wings

It’s quite simple, if true that, my temple is wrecked

I’d be some mushrooms and cognac

I’d be a pinto bean gravy smothered neckbone

Scrilla taker, vanilla wafer, baker, filler

So come on with your food slingin' 'cause I’m ready

Bring it, shut up nigga, sing it

(You need something for the food fight)

Yeah, hit you in the neck with the cheeseburger

(Gotta bring food to the food fight)

We’re slugging the chicken nugget to your grill

(You need something for the food fight)

Get ready, we’re coming fetti with the groceries

(Gotta bring food to the food fight)

Someone shoulda told ya, it ain’t over 'til it’s over

Bring the groceries

Bring the groceries

Bring, bring the groceries

You see what we bringin'

Don’t even sleep, don’t even sleep

Ah, you sleepin', you sleepin', you sleepin'

But that’s okay though, we still bringin' the funk

And back to what I was saying before…