Funk Mission - 8Ball & MJG

We're on a mission We're on a mission We're on a mission We're on a mission We're on a mission We're on a mission We're on a mission This is a mission, not a small time thing Let me tell you 'bout what happened when the phone went Well, I was coolin at the crib with this girl suzanne And everything was goin just accordin to plan When the phone rang yo I couldn't believe it Told myself to ignore it forget it leave it Just when things had started goin great It rang again I said hold up, wait Picked up the phone yelled who the hell is this Somebody said this is serious business There's a tape in the mailbox between your doors Take the tape from the box, and put it in yours I listened to the tape and my mouth just dropped I picked up the phone, but the man hung up It said, yo, this tape will self-destruct I pressed the deck, but the tape was stuck Oh well, what the heck, I just cleaned up the mess Opened up the closet, got the bullet-proof west Loaded up the sawed-off, the double-barrel The rambo knife with the hunting apparel Threw on the trench, kissed the girl good-bye She said, special ed, don't go, you might die Started cryin and huggin on me, so I shut her I said, sorry baby, but I gotta do what I gotta (You're on a mission) Do what I gotta (You're on a mission) (You're on a mission) Do what I gotta (You're on a mission) (You're on a mission) Do what I gotta (You're on a mission) This is a mission, not a small-time thing Took the express on a air force jet The thoughts in my mind broke me out into sweat I was thinkin of the message again and again In particular the name of lu chin chen Yo, I landed in japan with intent to kill You could tell I wasn't jokin by the look on my grill Took a look at the picture of the man that I was after A 5 foot 10 black-belt karate master Knew where to find him, knew where he would be I turned around and showin up mr. chen found me I looked him in the eye with a stare so cold I said, I came to revenge for the rhymes you stole Now you must die, because that is my mission He flipped back, got into a fighting position The tiger style, the shit was wild He threw his hands in the air, he started to smile I said, you can smile now, but you won't for long Cause sucker, you'll be sorry that you stole my song He said choose your style, I broke fool, I said what Pulled out the knife, tried to shove it in his gut It didn't even cut, I flipped, I started buggin Pulled out the hand gun, I shot a slug in His chest, he said, buddha bless and stood proud Out shot the bullet, mr. chen just bowed So I shot him again yo, I couldn't believe Mr. chen caught the bullet in this two front teeth Yo, he kicked me on the floor just like I was a child I got fed up, I thought of flatbush style Stood to my feet, threw my hands to the sky Shaked him then, I faked him, then I caught him in the eye He started stumblin, yo, I started wildin He tripped, busted his lip, I started smilin Knew he was defeated, but I wasn't done yet So I shot him with the shotie, then I jetted in the jet (You're on a mission) (You're on a mission) Jetted in the jet (You're on a mission) (You're on a mission) Jetted in the jet (You're on a mission) (You're on a mission) Jetted in the jet (You're on a mission) This is a mission, not a small-time thing

I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) Hard times (hard), hard times (hard) You never know how much you miss a person, until they gone Like to hear it? Hear it go, I'm rehearsing, gotta sing my song I know I've done some wrong, but I can't get right Cause life is like a big fight I'm stickin-and-movin, tryin to get my shit right My family's been houndin me, friends they done turned against me Kinda like they hearts was on a full tank, but now they empty And they say I've changed, but like twins I'm just the same It's because of my job, mo' money mo' prob in this dirty game This industry FUCKED UP That's right I said it, and it's fake as ever Keep real niggaz around me, stay "Space Age 4 Eva" Po-ppa never went and jumped the broom, never got that one degree But if you looked down from heaven, you'd still be proud of me Your son was DUI, but my momma made it by I didn't shed no tears when you left me But the rest of the family cried Trials and tribulations, ruined my concentration Losin my patience, hard times for goodness sake'n I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) Hard times (hard), hard times (hard) As this Valium slowly starts to kick in Them subconcious, subliminal thoughts, start tickin This whole world around me, diseased, and crumblin Babies doin dope cause daddy did it right in front of them Everybody wanna blame music for they bad kids Sittin up in the court talkin 'bout Eminem made me do what I did My own hard times rolled in like the fog Try to think of others, but I can't get past my own thoughts My momma, in 1967, pickin cotton While other blacks was gettin liberated, boycottin My old man was a player, ain't no hidin that He started tootin then he graduated to smokin crack I never saw him, never needed to see that muh'fucker He left me and my mother stuck down here in this fuckin gutter I tattoed it on my arm so I can't forget it It's in my mind and my heart so I'm forever with it I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) Hard times (hard), hard times (hard) A drum machine, the old fo'-track, and a pack of new tapes In the middle of, 1988, in a corner cafe We made beats, and hung with old heads, and stayed out late at night Do talent shows, fo'-way split the dough, that was our way of life My momma stayed, home full time so she could raise me Knowin without a, household father, things could get crazy Sometimes I listened, sometimes I thought I knew it all But nevertheless, momma was with me through it all I graduated out of nothin, not out of school, it was like 12, 13, 14 years I'm thinkin cool I might as well, be focusin on me tryin to get paid Usin these rhymes I've been writin since in the 7th grade Our team played, and had physical sex with minimum wage It was just like a piece of pussy It fucked me long as I stayed But still I prayed, Lord I'm tryin now please help me out the water It can't get no harder Help me to get back up and get my shit tomorrow I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) Hard times (hard), hard times (hard) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) I'm tryin to make it through these hard times I'm tryin to make it through these hard times (hard, times) Hard times (hard), hard times (hard)

Ooh la la bangladesh. Heyyy... See a nigga like me gonna get money til I get rich Ride with a couple hundred G's in a biscuit Stay down for whatever forever hustle wit my misfit holmes And soon you gonna see just how crunk this shit be once we get rich Til then its back to hustlin with my misfits Deep, on a creep, fifty zones tucked under the brougham. Fifty zones tucked under the brougham I keep a big old nigga beater heater Its in the trunk of my four-door and my two seater Im make them say skeeter skeeter Keep up and grab the ball back just like I'm Derek Jeter I know you want to fuck my ho but you too scared to meet her See you ain't got enough bread to even start to treat her The way a pimp did, and in the bed I'm even sweeter I hustle, I got more Franklins in me than Aretha If I had Oprah Winfrey I would marry her and keep her I spit as much knowlege as preachers and teachers Just as long as the message reach us we all fill up the bleachers I'm the MJG, I get in yo' shit I ain't trying to run yo' clique, that be your friend so quick Come on, where my money, let me hit the stage Fuck them long interviews, just give us the front page Black G apostrophe S us, forever bust Them lyrics that make the people say that he got nuts Yeah man. Sticky weed kickin in, big Ball steppin in Straight flying when I hustle, thats how I represent Bounce, if you feelin what I'm spitting up in your ear hole I been rocking mics since I was 17 years old Smoking up, drinking up, kicking dust, and fucking up Everybody want a piece and we ain't got enough for us Yeah, I touched a brick or two, pounds I done smoked a few Got my bread and didn't do what the fuck I was supposed to do Money blinds players, turns them into evil spirits I try to give it to them just how it come to me Real and unedited, not like it be on TV Be myself and dont be what those haters want me to be Take the good the bad hit my knees set me free Make the bad good, put that on my leather and wood Cinderella with my fellas deep off in the hood Nigga You need to stop sticking your hand out and trying to fold it Turn around the broom handle and trying to hold it It's plenty dirt to be swept, and leaves to be raked Now you need to leave from my face, take heed to mistake That you just made, thinking a player could get played Thinking that a rapper could get wrapped and phone tapped My whole life I learned the hard way to spot liars And it seems like its usually the ones thats right by ya FIRE! Jumping up out the tip with pistols sittin up Fuck me? Watch my gun skeet like its bussing nuts 'Cept when it hit your cheek it burn then it split your cheek Then come out the back of your head, now your just a memory Graphic how I got it illustrated, rated triple X Niggas want to be the king, I dont give a fuck who's best Just watch your mouth, talkin down in the south I'm gonna let my nuts hang and start punching clowns out