What I'm Supposed 2 B

Give me the funky

Give me the funky

Give me the funky

Give me the funky

Give me the-, give me the-, give me the-, give me the-

Give me the funky beat you know the point I won't miss, uh

This is for the twin, and this is for the sister

Something gets you all excited too and I'ma swing it

What exactly should I do? (Come on, Monie, sing it)

Didn't anybody tell you I can be the life and soul of your party?

Yes I'm from England, but I ain't la-di-da-di

Givin' it up to you and yo, I think I sound swell

You ain't rollin' with The Roots? Oh, well

I smell the stuff, you shuffle it, it's not to Monie's taste

You're walkin' in the dark and I believe that is a waste

Case is reopened, Monie will review it

Your butt is in my face, so with a pencil I'll screw it

Yeah, that's right you deserve to be two times the butt

For mine and my business, and so what, if you're offended?

I was offended, but now I mend it

Put your remarks in an envelope and send them to hell

I don't even wanna smell you close to me

For tellin' people what I am supposed to be

When you wake up in the morning, do you really smell the coffee?

Or think of other ways to say something else of me?

Well, hang it up, drop it, end of the line

I guess you don't have a life, that's why you livin' mine

I'm the Mo, and if you Funk With Me

It would be a big mistake, oh what a punk you'd be

For the simple-simple reason you lost your boots

Don't seem like you wanna find them-

So why should I give a hoot? Scoot (boot?)

Don't be trying to play me out

Like I said, and I can do this, you deserve a clout

But that's okay, today is my day

I'ma just tell you 'bout yourself and pray

You snap out of it, although I doubt that you will do this

You're headin' towards a case of just hopelessness

All you seem to wanna do is laugh, "Hee-hee-hee"

While I'm tellin' folks what I am supposed to be

Monie, is an auntie, a sister, a daughter

These are things you don't know which I think you ought to

Cut the crap, don't give me that, your mouth is like a slit

That opens every time somebody wants to hear shit

Get real, scoop your dooty up, shovel it someplace else

Like in between the split, yeah that's legit

It fits. Get back, stay back, don't be foolish

Because you've been scored the number-one dummy, honey

Monie, is a modest little person

It's people like you that tend to bring out the cursin'

Within me. Forgive me

Those who chose the righteous road to war

I had to make a comment to make the fools cease to talk

About me. I see myself as gossip-free

I don't be sayin' nothin' 'bout nobody

Why should they do it to me?

I had no album, I had no nothin'

'Cause this was back in the days, and yet still they was discussin' the Mo

What's your problem? You have nothin' to call your own?

Well, that's besides the point in this poem

And for your information I'll tell you Who I'm supposed to be

'Cause it's a matter of who I am M-O-N-I-E

Indeed, the Monie was born in B-A-double-T-E-R-S-E-A

I say, how many games would you like to play?

Monopoly, Scrabble, show me a magic trick

I'll plain stab you in the back, in which case you must be sick

Don't try to get by, by saying "Hi, do you know a Monie?

She used to live in my building. She's my friend." That's old

You made up your mind to be unkind, that's your prerogative too

Therefore, I'm afraid I don't know you

So don't persist trying to bother me, 'cause you're a stranger

Is that so hard to understand? I'm speaking English, ain't I?

And I mustn't forget to mention I remember where I come from

I know where I'm at and where I'm going to so, dumb one

Whatever belongs to you, business-wise, I suggest you go and mind it

I don't give a damn how long it takes you to find it

Remain in your own residency

'Cause I know who and what I am supposed to be