Lyrics Forum
Tablatures
Links
Feedback
Rock Lyrics Archive at rockmagic.net
Browse artists: 0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Add to Favorites

Fun Lovin' Criminals lyrics

Album: Come Find Yourself [1996]

Tracks12
 01  The Fun Lovin' Criminal
 02  Passive / Aggressive
 03  The Grave and The Constant
 04  Scooby Snacks
 05  Smoke 'Em
 06  Bombin' The L
 07  I can't Get With That
 08  King Of New York
 09  Bear Hug
 10  Come Find Yourself
 11  Crime And Punishment
 12  Methadonia
all Fun Lovin' Criminals lyrics



The Fun Lovin' Criminal
One, two, three and I come with the redneck style
because you know I get paid by the mile, like Avis
I pave this, Fast save this, everybody smile. . .
And act gracious
see I rob banks, I pull pranks, sometimes I eat
franks and knishes,best wishes, I'm vicious and here
I am again like CNN. Delivery my friend.

Stick 'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal

Yes we bug a lot and my friends is loud and. . .
I'm more freaky than Disco 2000
I scream, I yell, I bark, I bite
I'll hit you with an egg on a hot summer night
I never let the cops get wind of me
I never say die
I never take myself too seriously
Cause everybody knows fat birds don't fly

Stick'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminal

Means with the green, murder on your spleen
living in a dream do you know what I mean
goateed indeed, smart like John Steed
I'll steal your girlie and I'll steal your weed
I got so much flavor. . .I always leave you chewin'
I got so many styles you think I'm from the U.N.
I broke into the White House and never got caught
and I'd be Neil Armstrong if I was an astronaut
We're always optimistic about human relations
We've got more friends than my man Peter Gatien
We're always fun loving, so don't start bugging
If your girlie comes up and starts kissing and hugging

Stick'em up punk, it's the Fun Lovin' Criminalback to top
Passive / Aggressive
I'm a nicely zooted new car owner, and I'm somewhat convoluted
because I'm living in a coma
I render those useless who pinch off my trim,
Your light they are on but your lights they are dim
I got the bushmill shots, and cops that give me props
I got the Motts, Spike, I got the Motts.
Having fun with my gun, son, its always loaded and the FLC
is raw y'all not candy coated.

Cooling on the block
With my case of Rolling Rock
Thinking up the schemes to get ourselves the knot
cause you know we love to get down and party with the big boys
They asked me to be mayor, and if I had a choice
I love you people and my boys love you too,
So fuck the king of beers this ones for you.
So if grunts from stunts is what you want say, "ow"
the FLC with the mucho grande style

You know you can't boom with a bullshit system and you can't fix
a man when he's broke. You know you can't max if you don't pay
the tax and you can't wax the man if you choke.

You know the funk I drop is wild just like Aretha beltin',
My shit is going fast, so get your second helping,
My brain cells are dying, young women are crying,
but I keep on trying,
Like my man Jack Ryan.
You see my man is in my fae as if he has been drinking
They say that he needs space but I know what he is thinking
We have a common bond the fact we all get lifted
The rocks that hit our head have left us somewhat gifted
Its the Fun Lovin' Criminal out to represent
I know its tough being hard and politically correct
So if grunts from stunts is what you want say, "ow"
the FLC with the mucho grande style

You know you can't boom with a bullshit system and you can't fix
a man when he's broke. You know you can't max if you don't pay
the tax and you can't wax the man if you choke.back to top
The Grave and The Constant
I used to wear dress blues, I used to get my cues from the dudes in
D.C. with the wing tip shoes.
My boss said it was Parris or Prison, the judge said son you better
make a decision.
I chose the former because I heard it was warmer, April in Parris, hell
south of the border. They put me together, tougher than leather. Set
me on your ass because they didn't know better.

Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on.

I hold the fort left, right and center
the number running hardass punk, flygirl bender. Check the photo
finish I'm in this to satisfy parole, not posing or playing the role,
see I got more gumbas than Bobby De Niro and if I was you I'd
act like Nixon and Spiro. So smoke your pot and drink your rock
and chill where it's shady. I got more endurance than In-A-Gadda-
Da-Vida baby.

Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on.

Up to no good, with no place to go but down. . .

Getting it on to the grave spot, getting it on.back to top
Scooby Snacks
Me and Fast got the gats; we're out to rob a bank.
We got Steve outside and he's carrying
a full pack.
Now everything's cool and everthing's smooth.
I walked up to the teller, I gave her the letter
She gave me the loot with puckered up lips
and a wink that I found cute, and I said,
"baby, baby, baby"
(Is this some Kharmic-Chi love thing happening here baby or what.)
By that time Fast tapped me from behind
he said it was time to blow, ya know. So out the door we go.
Back to the ride with Steve inside and alive; off we drive
I hurt my lower lumbar, you know we'll
never get far, riding around in a stolen
police car, so we dropped it off and
piled in a Caddy; Steve was driving
because I had to talk to my man about something.

Running around robbing banks
all wacked off of Scooby Snacks!

I don't give a fuck about the hell's
gate, ain't punkin' the crowd and I'm still
standing up staight.
So, we pull these jobs to make a little money;
no one gets hurt if they don't act funny.
On the way to the yacht, we almost got caught,
fast is shooting mailboxes, not knowing
where the cop is.
They're at the Dunkin Donuts, adjacent from
the Froman's whose mailbox had just
exploded. They gave chase, but our man
Steve is an ace; we lost those brothers
with haste. We cast off and along we went
off Bermuda to an island resort we rent.

Running around robbing banks
all wacked off of Scooby Snacks!back to top
Smoke 'Em
Hey muneka, I think I wanna take ya
back to the lab, with my gift of gab
and a little dab'll do ya, maybe even school ya,
I'll rush your end zone like my man Don Shula
you're my four leaf clover even bending over;
I love you like rover; I'm your little lawnmower
but, lower, lower, I'm the seed sower
the funky weed grower, the mad rap thrower.
See, I'm a man's man; do you understand?
What I'm giving ain't cocked in the palm of my hand.
So take the nasty plunge plaid not grunge.
I know it's really hard when you love someone. You always
stood by me like Spanky did Stymiey and if anybody messes I'll
bust'em in the eye. And check that ass like Phil Esposito
the guido, U.P.S. next day back to Toledo.

Smoke 'em if ya gottem, if ya ain't gottem then ya hit rock bottom.

Me and my Les Paul is out droppin' science
pocket full of blunts and a full carry license
never walking streets, lookin' past my shouler acting kinda bolder
since my dog got older; I walked the walk and I aced the test
when I put the pressure on all your tendencies manifest
I'm a half spick peckerwood talkin' to the dead
I'll break into your house and I'll smell your bed.

Smoke 'em if ya gottem, if ya ain't gottem then ya hit rock bottom.back to top
Bombin' The L
I usta more ya yo than Phizer Pharmaceuticals
paid my way through college, and still had residuals
I moved more wait than arnold on steriods
shot more punks than rocks in asteroids
caught more heat than Aruba in August
Never spilled the beans when the cops finally caught us
All my liquid assets are flowing like a stream
and my fingers are faster than Yngwie Malmstein
Everybody round me making money
Why can't I?

I can't change
I can't change

I get my macaroni salad from Dean and Deluca
and I top my red death with the white Zambuca
stick up kid yeah, without no errors
I'm smashing twelve hundreds on
sucker rhyme sayers
like Tito I treat you, like Hendrix I freak you
Bombin' Tha "L" i see you
You freak, you coochie frito !

I can't change
Lord, I can't changeback to top
I can't Get With That
They try to move us; to use us
like Judas did Jesus; to please us
Diverting the issues to misuse the peoples
How are we gonna get them out?
How are we gonna vote them out?
When the wingtips got it locked up
Ya dig it? The freaking wingtips did it.
But some of us are wise and some of us are suckers. . .
But we all bleed red even racist motherfuckers.

I can't get with that

I see the hoes and the hustlers
piled up in clusters
since they upped the anti, and hooked up Giuliani
and the black kill the black and
Latino kill Latino; man it's evil. . .
The same damn story and a sequel
I thought I fought for what was right,
but in the end, my friend, 20-20 is hindsight.
I think I caught you out there
chillin in the Bahamas.
I take you to Miami to meet the Dalai Lama.

"I can't get with that."back to top
King Of New York
Franky was a mook from the block we used to live on
The wanna be gangster;
The wanna be dapper Don, Don John on
the wall, I'm your biggest fan
next to my little brother Paul.
Losing his grip, like Pesci, he'd flip
if you talk to his brother he says they
always planned this trip
he wasn't oky-dokie running around like
Don Quixote, trying to free a man he
didn't even know B.
He had the roots he bought the suits
but the boys didn't like him mto tell you the truth
he had "J.G." on his pinky ring and he
lied about doin' some time up in sing-sing
he flipped one fine summer afternoon
he told his brother Paulie, something had to be done soon.
He took Paulie and a couple of boys and jacked the
Coup de Ville to Illinois.

La-di da-di, free John Gotti, "The King of New York"

He got a clipper from a stripper, he met at a club
two sticks of dynamite and a .38 Snub
he tried to see the Don, without an invitation
stood outside the gate with his three man demonstartion
waving picket signs, the C.O. saw a nine;
and only Paulie go away with the skin on his behind.
Back in the borough the cops are acting
thorough; they raided Franky's room
and then they saw his bureau; upon it was a note,
with a rhyme that was dope, about
how he was breaking John out and how he couldn't cope.
It sait, "I don't fly coach, never save the roach,
The King of New York".

La-di da-di, free John Gotti, "The King of New York"back to top
Bear Hug
We got the crazy crew
you think you coming we say-
"na na na" we got the block locked up

The foes that oppose me by proxy,
They try to get foxy
They try to rock me
They say they got the 40 cal glok
With the 30 round clip
and they losing their damn grip. . .
Well, I came back from hell so God damn fit
I'll bust your lip, and make you strip
You can play them games
but don't play'em in my park
I'll spill a wild bill, before you get out you Town Car
ranting and raving, claiming you're armed
I'll do the hit myself and then eat a chicken parm
mackin' like bumpy, the business is boomin'
I'll chop your ass up like I was Jimmy Coonan
the westy, honey don't test me!
Ooooh - I just ate 5 blotters
and things are gettin' kinda wacked!

If you can't live the lie, let it die
and if you can't live a life full of strife
just say oops! And jump through hoops,
and get to the end of the line.

We got the crazy crew
you think you coming we say-
"na na na" we got the block locked up

I got bear huge for my brothers
and I got no love for the others
c'mon kids, you ain't built for bids
You'll get jacked in the ass like a sucker
"mucho dinero" the man with the hat said
he changed his mind once the crack in his head bled
movin' and shakin' the brittle illusion
referring, concurring, and workin' out solutions

If you can't live the lie, let it die
and if you can't live a life full of strife
just say oops! And jump through hoops,
and get to the end of the line.

Know your man, know his game, don't be ashamed from where you came,
if you ask me, I'd rather have money than fame.

We got the crazy crew
you think you coming we say-
"na na na" we got the block locked upback to top
Come Find Yourself
Hemlock five caugt me out there later on
It's the girl I told the man, but he swore he'd prove me wrong
Not seeing as I saw it as I gazed at the skyline
Someone dropped me a dime, someone took the time
I'm not a man with a grasp on reality
Kerouac is wack but I'm down with Dostoevsky
Sugar's got my back plus Baretta .380's
One of which I dropped as the man tried to bait me.

Come on, find yourself.

Its you, its always been you, its always been in you.

Now don't get it messed up, they got me all dressed up.
To feed me to the fishes, I use my mojo for the loco
I know the soft machine and its goings ons and I'll be
damned if the man's gonna spill me
You wanna see me go wild and crazy, I'm sorry man but your
threats don't phase me. You covered the ground but you'tr
lazy. Come on contest me.

Come on, find yourself.

Its you, its always been you, its always been in you.back to top
Crime And Punishment
I pity the punks that partake in the madness
Yangin' the young for their products and profit
The pushers keep pushin' on D and on Jump Street
Pushin' the passive pill, so ya don't need
kids makin' bids with their nine's in their goose downs
'Cause college is pricey and some brothers ain't got none
You try to discern between truth and suggestion
but they bid for your ID via fear of rejection

All I see is outfits and attitudes, congenial criminality
The hidden agenda is a psychic necessity
Hungry minds so sad in the hearts of darkness
manifesting some sort of natural impatience
Deaf MacBeth, scar city, the slasher
Enveloping the b-boy, the doper, the thrasher
Looking to be judged but when judged by the book
Son you're running to the hook

Back with the funk hits, Uncle Huey is back with
the funk hits, and the F.L.C. is coming to grips
with a fist full of funk hits
I got the feel good hit of the year, I got two thumbs up
and I stuck'em in his ear. The man stepped to me,
he wouldn't let it end though, so I threw his ass out
the Roxy Deli window

I ain't pushin' no party, I ain't meddlin' in Saudi,
but i think it's fucked up, what the federal has laid on me
I've been watchin' the news, you're forcing people
to choose between the lesser of two evils; my red, white, and blue
The deceiver's deceiving because the people believe him
Soon the troops'll be bleedin' and their mama's will be grieving
So keep on payin' your taxes, when you don't know the facts
Let the contracts get backed, while your conscience relaxesback to top
Methadonia
In methadonia, they weeble and they wobble
but they don't fall down
You see, the fed has got their back
and they say it's better than crack, plus
it keeps them mellow and passive. . .

And takes them to the land of Methadonia.

There are three around my way, all day I
see them stray, up the block and down the
stairs, comin' in groups and leaving in pairs
like suckers. With their weeks supply
I and I see them selling the elixir of life

And takes them to the land of Methadonia.

I see you hangin' on my stoop, you better
swoop before I do, some jammies in your eye
because the place in which you're sent
by your liquid orange friend has kept you
from it for so long

And takes them to the land of Methadoniaback to top
Search lyrics archive:



All lyrics are property and copyright of their respective owners and are provided for educational purposes only. Rockmagic.net is a not-for-profit project. All advertising proceeds are used to maintain its servers.
Terms Of Use / Copyright Policy