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The Mix Tape, Volume 3: 60 Minutes of Funk: The Final Chapter
01. Freestyle
02. Here We Go
03. Freestyle
04. Freestyle
05. Ain't No Nigga
06. Freestyle
07. Freestyle
08. Wild in the Night
09. Thug Brothers
10. Freestyle
11. Prime Time
12. Freestyle
13. Freestyle
14. Freestyle
15. Freestyle
16. Show Down
17. Cocoa Brovas / Do That
18. Freestyle
19. Freestyle
20. Freestyle
21. Shake Whatcha Mama Gave Ya
22. Get Money
23. Wu-Tang Cream Team Line-Up
24. Freestyle
25. Freestyle
26. That Shit
27. Freestyle
28. Freestyle
29. Shimmy Shimmy Ya
30. Put Your Hammer Down
31. Jump Around
32. OPP
33. Whoop Whoop
34. Freestyle
35. Freestyle
36. Freestyle
37. Show Me Love
38. Freestyle
39. 10% DIS
40. Freestyle
Pack it up, pack it in, let me begin
I came to win, battle me that's a sin
I won't ever slack up, punk you better back up
Try and play the role and yo the whole crew'll act up
Get up, stand up (c'mon!) see'mon throw your hands up
If you've got the feeling, jump across the ceiling
Muggs lifts a funk flow, someone's talking junk
Yo I bust him in the eye, and then I'll take the punk's hoe
Feelin', funkin', amps in the trunk and I got more rhymes
Than there's cops at a Dunkin' Donuts shop
Sho' nuff, I got props
From the kids on the hill plus my mom and my pops
I came to get down, I came to get down
So get out your seat and jump around!

Jump around!
Jump around!
Jump around!
Jump up, jump up and get down!
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! (Everybody jump)
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! (Everybody jump)
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!
Jump!

I'll serve your ass like John McEnroe
If your girl steps up, I'm smacking the hoe
Word to your moms, I came to drop bombs
I got more rhymes than the Bible's got Psalms
And just like the Prodigal Son I've returned
Anyone stepping to me you'll get burned
'Cause I got lyrics, but you ain't got none
If you come to battle bring a shotgun!
But if you do you're a fool, 'cause I duel, to the death
Trying to step to me, you'll take your last breath
I got the skills, come get your fill
'Cause when I shoot the gift, I shoot to kill
I came to get down, I came to get down
So get out your seat and jump around!

Jump around!
Jump around!
Jump around!
Jump up, jump up and get down!
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! (Everybody jump)
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! (Everybody jump)
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!
Jump!

I'm the cream of the crop, I rise to the top
I never eat a pig, 'cause a pig is a cop
Or better yet a Terminator, like Arnold Schwarzanegger
Try to play me out like, as if my name was Sega
But I ain't going out like no punk bitch
Get used to one style and yo and I might switch
It up up and around, then buck buck you down
Put out your head and then you wake up in the Dawn of the Dead
I'm coming to get ya, I'm coming to get ya
Spitting out lyrics, homie I'll wet ya
I came to get down, I came to get down
So get out your seat and jump around!

Jump around!
Jump around!
Jump around!
Jump up, jump up and get down!
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! (Everybody jump)
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! (Everybody jump)
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! (Everybody jump)
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! (Everybody jump)
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!
Jump!

Yo, this is dedicated to Joe "The Biter" Nicolo!
Grab your Bozack, punk!