The End?

[Intro: Garry Shider, DJ Quik]
Ah, yeah, hey
Wait a minute, wait a minute, y'all see
I told you he'd be back
Baby baby, baby baby
Ayy Quik, I told 'em you'd be back (What up, Garry?)
Yes, I did
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah (Ladies and gentlemen)
Ah, one more—do it one more time for me (Garry Shider)
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
(Yeah, it's Parliament Funkadelic forever, say that one time)

[Bridge: Garry Shider, DJ Quik]
Quik be funkin' that street level, street level, street level
Quik be funkin' that street level
Quik be funkin' that street level, street level, street level
Quik be funkin' that street level
Say it, boy
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Quik be funkin' that street level, street level, street level
Quik be funkin' that street level (Thank you, Garry)
I told 'em you'd be back (Thank you, Garry)
Quik be funkin' that street level, street level, street level
(Parliament Funkadelic)
Quik be funkin' that street level
(My music teachers, Parliament Funkadelic)
Quik be funkin' that street level, street level, street level
Quik be funkin' that street level
Street, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
(Ladies and gentlemen, Garry Shider, go find it)
Oh, Quik you funky, don't let 'em stop you, boy

[Verse: DJ Quik]
Alright, now let's get back to this 2020 shit
And I'm not talking about perfect eyesight, I'm talking about the year
Then give me twenty more
And I'ma keep poppin' this shit until my fingers plenty sore
I'm not just cuttin' any ho anymore
But I love 'em thick like Demi Mo'
Now I need my piano player—where did Kenny go?
El Dorado rollin', got your El Camino stolen
Taking off your hundred spokes to sell 'em to the old man
'Cause they looked a whole lot better when they rollin'
Double it back onto your block to come pick up your woman
Pharrell asked me why I gangbang
That ain't your fuckin' business, stay out my lane, mayne
'Cause don't nobody wanna see my game, plain and simple
Them little niggas do the damn thang, mayne
Yeah, they'll be dumpin' out the Maxima
Throwing flaming hatchets at ya
Tiger claws scratchin' at ya
They tighten you niggas up and then throw the ratchet at ya
And when you mark niggas flip, we the spatula
The eighty-eight degrees with the lucky number seven
It's woop music on your block, knockin' with my brethren
I mold you into the shape of an octahedron
While inspiring to be your headache aspirin—Excedrin
I'm compelled to find every word that rhymes with orange
You might be bouncing the door but I'm the door hinge
I'll knock you out and in, go to the mountain then
Exclaim it out that that nigga Quikster is 'bout to win
Ol' bitch ass nigga on Don Tomaso said he's never heard of me
You're nothin' but a buster, insignificant nerd to me
Yeah, nigga, word to me
Keep gum-bumpin' I'll bust your head open where the curb should be
You’ll be talkin' out the side of your neck on purpose, G
Gaping wounds in your torso, you fade out worthlessly
You haters ain't heard the worst of me
I'll bring you voodoo so fast, you'll think you on Bourbon Street

[Instrumental]