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Şarkı Sözleri Yo! Your mom's so poor, she went in Kentucky, fried chicken And licked everybody else's fingers Yo, Biz, man you know that ain't my style Tchk, yo man what is your style Capri? You know my style Give me the mic, Lords of Funk is in full flight I keep you goin' and flowin', all day and night So let's proceed with the sounds that you really need The Kid is funky and my DJ got a lot of speed Silver D and Money Mark, is blowin' up Don't think we won't be at a battle cause we're showin' up And if you ever try to diss you're gonna get stomped I'm gonna make it plain and simple, there's no comp Yeah, I said it, so whatcha gonna do about it? The Kid Capri is super dope, I just gotta shout it The Lords of Funk will rock a party for a while Now I can tell you that, but you know my style You know my style Now my country 'tis of thee, let me tell you what it means to me I really love it when them crowds scream for me It gets me hyped, makes me wanna rock right From tonight, all the way until tomorrow night You know the flavor, so now, do me a favor Please respond to the sounds Kid Capri gave ya I worked hard, to do what I do for people I'm not conceited, cause everybody is my equal I had a problem, with suckers, that tried to diss I overlooked 'em but they still wanted to persist I had to blow up, and blow up on 'em very large 'Cause chaos, and war, and sabotage They made me mad, even though they didn't harm me They stepped off when I went and got my army Money Mark, Silver D and Troopa Love Poppa Duke chillin with the man above You couldn't diss me, no matter, how much you paid You made the record, but I'm the one that gets it played Red Alert, he's blazin' on my radio And I'm the man, that's blazin' in your auto I go cameo, you think that you use a super hoe? You get sprayed and played like a afro So go ahead Hobbes, I make fingers pop And you could never, get what the Kid Capri got Before I blow up, my man you better show up 'Cause once I'm finished with you, you're gonna throw up I get respect, I teach 'em, and then correct You're out of order out of style like a mock neck I'm gettin papers, while you suck now or laters I wear a silk Guess denim and alligators So go ahead chump, I'm not the one son I grab the mic and wax that booty like a shotgun I'm not frontin, or fakin, or 'fessin to ya I'm Kid Capri, so let that be a lesson to ya Punk, you know my style Don't ever try to front Kid 'Cause you know my style On the down low, you know my style Oh, man there go my main man Spud Luva for the Troopa Love crew He got it goin' on there, go Shabar She, she got a little flavor right there Money Mark, Silver D, Lords of Funk, Kool V in the house Knahmsayin, pushin' Kid Capri My main man the brother [unverified] Bizz Markie My man Kool V in the house That's my man Grand Daddy I U Knahmsayin, Diamond Shell, Dapper Jay, they got it goin' on My main man the chief rockin' starchild He in the house, he got it goin on My man the world famous Busy Bee He kickin' flavor, knahmsayin? Everybody doino' this for the do Puttin' flavor where it's supposed to be The Kid Capri is outta here like last year And I'm gone, See ya 'Cause you know my style You know my style, uhh, c'mon, woo 'Cause you know my style