Farmers Blvd. (Our Anthem)

Hey, man, don't you realize, in order for us to make this thing work, man
We've got to get rid of the pimps, and the pushers, and the prostitutes-
Ba-ha-ha-ha (yes, yes, y'all)
Uh, uh, that's funky (yeah)
Ayo, Marley, man (yo, what's up, man? Farmers Boulevard)
Ayo, man, you know, we were gettin' busy on the album and everything
Yeah, we been gettin' funky, but
I wanna take this jam back to Farmers (Farmers Boulevard)

Know what I'm sayin'? Yo, let's go back on Farmers
And get some of them early MC's
You used to be kickin' it with back in the day? (Farmers Boulevard)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yo, let's do a jam with them
Aight, bet
But first I gotta, like, introduce it, you know what I'm sayin'?
Aight, kick it (Farmers Boulevard)

Back in the days, before I was Cool J
I used to hang up on the corner pumpin' "Games people play"
Sittin' on a garbage can, rhymin' to my man
Talkin' 'bout big money and future plans
I always told the brothers if I got a contract
When the money started flowin', I'd be back
To do a jam, against all odds
Introducing rapper one from Farmers Boulevard (ayo)

B-O-M-B, bomb explosion
Attack like a cat when I'm trapped, and I'm closed in
Sharp-ass claws and I break all laws
In a while all jaws, 'cause I'm perfect, no flaws
Now I'm back to Farmers on some new improved (shh)
I'm makin' moves, not fakin' moves

So don't you never come around here talkin' that talk
Or walkin' that walk, you'll get played like a sport
Football, soccer, whatever you savor
You're a tramp and a pussycat, ready for labor
Ha, L'll have you breaking locks

I'll have you cooking fried rice in a big steel wok
The type of skills that I got reigned for years
No worry or cares, your crew'll shed tears
"Hip-hip-hooray, he's back," yo, save the cheers
Suckers, I'm drinkin' 40s of beers on the Boulevard

Funky, funky, funky rhymes bein' said here (ayo, ayo, ayo, Uncle L, let's go)
Yeah, man, I wanna check out my man Big Money Grip
Yo, what's up, man? Kick a little somethin' (Ayo, lemme light up-)

Kicked out the can and slam
Summertime, C.I.A. steppin' into the jam
Reach for the mic and the punks start to fold up
And the brothers start fleein' like it's a hold-up
Some step aside, but a few plays me close
Never worry, 'cause the brother who cross me's gettin' buried
And the fool who wants to deal with another dose
I see to it in an hour that the motherfuckers comatose

Farmers Boulevard, the place
Handin' me a mic is like givin' a chainsaw to Leather face
Smokin' MCs in an instant
At my side bustin' caps is T-Boogie, my assistant
Throw that speaker in the trash
Why's that? 'Cause "Gangster Boogie" gave the woofer a gash
Big Money Grip makin' you get up
Farmers Crew's in effect, we never heard of a head-up

Yo, yo, yo, it's kinda funky out here on the boulevard, yo
Yeah, we livin' Chinese people in a Turkish bath, baby
Hi C over there, man, yo, what's up, Hi C?
What up, kid, yo, what's up?
Lemme get busy for 'em one time (Farmers Boulevard)

Hi C on the scene, at last to bust a funky rhyme
More than a line on time because I'm gettin' mine
Never underestimate the skill of a great one
The Boulevard lord, shorts, never take none

Another funky rapper from around the way
Leavin' bodies at a party 'cause somebody gotta pay
Boy, you been told, put your lips on hold
All you'll remember is a barrel and a mouth full of gold

Spreadin' terror on the street like they was in the past
Any punks on the block, yo, never could last
And I never feel sorry for a sucker I gained on (buck)
Any slick talker, yo, he's bound to get rained on

At any Farmers party, at my side is a Mag
One time a sucker got ill and went out in a body bag
Fear will erupt through the heart of another
The Farmers Crew will never fall, that's word to the mother

Yo, yo, yo, it's kinda funky out here
Yo, yo, yo, Hi C
Yo man, y'all kinda funky out here, yo, I was-yo, what's up?
Farmers Boulevard, baby
Yo, I was kinda-, I was kinda stagnant to sleep on it, but yo, L
Why don't-, why don't you sum it on up for the people?
Aight, let me sum this up, yeah

Now you heard the brothers speakin' 'bout the street that we're from
Rhymes hittin', beats kickin', you can't get none
F-A-R-M-E-R-S passin' the test
Marley Marl in the background doin' the rest
Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do, do-ti-la-so-fa-mi-re-do, Kato
Get up out my face before I play you like Play-Doh
I did a jam against all odds
And it was dedicated to Farmers Boulevard

Uh, uh (Farmers Boulevard)
Keep on, all in the mood
(Farmers Boulevard)
To the beat, y'all (Farmers Boulevard)
A funky beat, y'all
Yes, yes, y'all
You don't stop (Farmers Boulevard)



Credits
Writer(s): James Todd Smith, Marlon Lu'ree Williams
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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