Flex Off

Written by: Michael Turner & Christopher Portugal

[Rap sample:] Flex off the sounds that I'm pumpin'

[Double K:] (Boy! Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, break it down…)
Yo, we ride the rhythm, the fresh is what we give 'em
And Thes deliver the funk to pump in the trunk
Down the highway, known for doing things my way
We jump on stage for the jump off and leave with the high pay
No checks or money orders, just the greenbacks for mean raps
And Lord Finesse said it was off the meat rack, so heed that
Word to the brotha, the vanglorious one
Notorious for hitting the shorties and making 'em come
Up out that purse, I spit a hot verse, make 'em pay for it
The brotha with the sly voice, no way you can ignore it
I shoulda been a pimp 'cause I keep the people tapping feet
On the concrete, I get the loot and hit the swap meet
And buy a brand-new L.A. hat to go with that there
The fat Fred Astaire-case walker, the weed clocker
So next time, you see somebody pumping it up
Tell them all about the P and how we summons the funk, because…

[Rap sample:] Flex off the sounds that I'm pumpin'
(repeated and scratched)

[Thes One:] (Yo, pump it up…)
The only thing I know I truly own is my time
So I'mma make the most of it and travel with this rhyme
The earth is getting smaller, it's all a matter of shine
From the solar to lunar, radio tuners lock lines to the block, broadcast
Across the Pacific, a skipping rock leaving audio waves to ripple
Talk style is simple, mainly rip a couple of clubs
Then me and Double pump it, dropping rhymes, ripping the dubs
Then Crockett & Tubbs doing their thang, jump on the plane
Promoters proud, sobbing like the end of Purple Rain
Train civic-minded Frank Lloyd Wright rhymes designed to lecture
Bright minds, protect the life-lines of predecessors
We the West Coast profe- study lessons of the yesteryear
Couldn't drop the baton, we're technical and got an ear
It's on like a pot of greens, things people hear
Still shining like we hanging, off the chain, like a chandelier, so…

[Rap sample:] Flex off the sounds that I'm pumpin'
(repeated and scratched)

[Double K:] (Pump, pump, pump, pump it up…)
We watching the sound and breaking it down
I say the people love the P when we come to they town
We getting live just to survive and letting it be known
The facts will be shown, this music is so grown, man
We the baddest since Bigger & Deffer, since Tougher Than Leather
Since the God made 'em clap to this, now I'mma pass to Chris
And let him rap to this, I let 'em, let 'em rap to this…
[Thes One:] (Yeah, check it out…)
There was a black man, a brown man, and some hip-hop fans
The hip-hop fans knew they were dope
It took the black man and brown man three years to lace the sound
But the fans now, they never lost their hope
Now, witness new Drummond stepfather with the Willis soon coming
Two illest summoning the realest rhythm and the rhyme
The "feel it" time is here, so pour a beer and just chill
With the P, flex a skill and blow your mind

[Rap sample:] Flex off the sounds that I'm pumpin'

[Double K, in a higher pitched voice:]
Yeah, and what is that that I hear? Oh, well, excuse me, can we funk you? Welcome to Station W-E-F-U-N-K, and we funk, and we pump, as you already know… We came to steal the show. Good grief, thief (Yeah!)… and look it here, we slaves to the rhythm, right? Picking cotton outta pill bottles. Ay, Thes One, I think they hear that funk, make 'em stomp they foot. We hear everybody jamming, it's cool… We don't like it, and we give you this to stomp your foot. Go ahead, stomp that foot! Can you hear it? Sounds like a heartbeat… Yeah! Sound real good. Go wiggle, y'all. W-E-F-U-N-K….we funk… yeah!

[Spoken sample:] Place two hands in the loop…
([Spoken sample:] And I ain't goin' out like that…)
[Spoken sample:] And twist!
([Spoken sample:] I knew not to tell you because you're too soft to do anything about it, man!
[Spoken sample:] You crazy!)
[Spoken sample:] Now over…
([Dad:] Hey, hey, hey! Hey, look, look here! You stay away from my records, you hear me? Don't go near my records!
[Son:] Yo, chill out, Dad. You got some def shit here.
[Dad:] You put that down! Put it down! Scratch 'em all up, and then I can't play 'em.
[Son:] C'mon, fatty, you ready? Let's go!
[Dad:] No, no, you don't! Look… get yo-
[Son:] Nahhhhh… plllbbt!

[Spoken sample:] Hey, hey, hey! C'mon, man…

*Important Note: These transcriptions are not verified with P.U.T.S., so there may be errors. We are especially unsure of the greyed-out text. We encourage you to offer your suggestions for lyrics corrections on the site's main page.


This track appears on the following releases:

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The Next Step Question in the Form of an Answer American Men, Vol. 1
"O.S.T." ...Or Stay Tuned Stepfather
The Om Years Fun DMC Carried Away
Highlighter 12 Step Program American Men, Vol. 2
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