Cam’ron – Funk Flex Freestyle (Lyrics, Video)

Watch the video as Cam’ron drops bars on the new version for Hot 97’s “Funk Flex Freestyle”. Read the lyrics for His piece of freestyle.

Cam’ron Funk Flex Freestyle

Cam’ron is arguably one of the best examples of an iconic era in New York rap history. Killa Cam, part of the legendary trio The Diplomats (or Dipset), trailblazed through the early 2000’s with his intellect and wordplay. His skill, coupled with overwhelming confidence and knack for flossing flashy things, drew attention from listeners all over. Combining these worlds at such a high level earned Cam’ron critical acclaim and popularity, with platinum albums and records decorating the early parts of his career.

Cam’s first two albums released prior to 2000 gained some attention, but his 2002 Roc-A-Fella Records debut Come Home With Me solidified his position amongst the tight competition of that era. Come Home With Me debuted at number two on Billboard’s 200 and eventually achieved the much sought after platinum status. His 2004 offering, Purple Haze, had slightly less popularity among the masses, but those keyed in on hip hop praised its quality. The album is regarded as a classic by listeners that hold rap to a higher standard.

The all-over pink fur pioneer is an icon for some fashion moments and extravagant escapades, but one of his most impressive moments came by way of a legendary freestyle in The Basement with Big Tigger. Donning a pink bucket hat, earrings the size of a small flatscreen television, and a hand full of hundreds, he delivered immaculate cash talk over Scarface’s “On My Block” instrumental.

Now, in 2022, he’s back spitting that cash on Funk Flex. The lauded New York MC still has the tools he had back then, now with the relaxed presence that comes with age and time.

Watch Video

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Check the files, Mr. Giles, he a winner still
These niggas broke, I’m allergic, pass me a Benadryll
You got it, nigga? Spent a mil, had all intent to chill
But niggas talkin’ fly like they rent ain’t my dinner bill
Kiddin’, you gotta be, I be movin’ modestly
Honestlly I’m the one that’s pitchin’ in the lobby B
And didn’t care who’s watchin’ me
Basketball games and then I went and did a robbery
[?] Harlem you spotted me
Pan Pan to Willie Burger, Haaji back to Dirty Kitchen
Four blocks down, niggas was on a murder mission
Facing a third conviction, me? I’m just swervin’ different
Mergin’ different, walked inside the hen house, I’m observin’ chicken
Franchise like Church’s Chicken, words of wisdom
Fuck around with me and be a murder victim
I fried burger flip ’em, huh
The birds I get ’em, the fiends deserve to hit ’em
The first or the third? The work is gon’ be workin’ with ’em
Me? Y’all can’t come around, better off just run around
Forgot I’m from the underground, in two days move a hundred pounds
Fuckin’ clowns, up and downs, talkin’ ’bout it’s nothin’ now
Kris Kross, I pull the Mac Daddy and make you jump around
Hundred keys on the private, who you lovin’ now?
Tom Brady to Gronk, bitch, we touchin’ down
My girl said, “Cam, you defeatin’ the purpose,” How?
“When you walk in the room, they still gettin’ nervous
‘Cause they know the old Killa any time could resurface,”
Shout to Swizz though, I’m still eatin’ off the Verzuz homie
I got more than the fighters and I ain’t box
I got the up-front, back-end, door money and stock
So when Triller went public, ‘nother mil out the box
Maybe over your head but I don’t care about no props
And no, nah, this is not a shot at The Lox
‘Cause them are my niggas, they solidified they spot
Now Kiss, right? He told you ’bout my crib in Miami
But he ain’t mention Cali or my villa out in Maui
Or Vegas or Jersey or my timeshare in Bali
Or my ranch out in Idaho, I tell my neighbor, “Howdy,”
I’m just a hustler, go getter, money monster
You fucked up? Shut up, I be your honey sponsor
I’m her only fan, I tell her as I dance with her
I start her OnlyFans, I be her manager
Clean her up like the janitor, baby I ain’t no amateur
Look, we going to the top, just hold on to the bannister
Now I got her booked cross-country, London and Canada
When I stuck it in she said she never had a man in her
Then I abandoned her, or what it appeared to be
Came to my crib like, “Why you bein’ weird to me?”
I sold weed when they used to call the shit dank
Name a year, any year, I ain’t have a [?]
This little verse, big bank, you damn right my shit stank
Forty foot chandeliers, piranhas in the fish tank
I would put a end to you, only thing I ever told my connect was, “Send it through,”
Y’all problems are miniscule baby
Y’all ain’t Gillie or NORE? I ain’t friends with you
Everybody else, a hundred thousand for the interview
Nah, I don’t wanna talk, y’all niggas chatty pattys
You got a problem? No problem, I’ll send the addy gladly
Keep the mac engaged, fuck all your accolades
It’s one big masquerade, they talkin’ from a backup page
The feds thought we were roaches, the crib they had to raid
I stood the trauma, they hit my bedroom with flash grenades
But y’all ain’t stressin’ me, God been blessin’ me
Just one question though, why would y’all question me?
Like how we still in here, or how we still up here
Or how the fuck we turn Suga Duga a millionaire, right?
He can’t rap or rhyme, he can’t dance or sing
But every morning we get up, nigga, and do our thing
Fleet farms, you in our way? Reroute
Shoot you in your leg then chill with you ’til you bleed out
Pussy niggas keep out, you know just what we ’bout
Papi on one line, the other phone Steve Stoute
Nothin’ but exotic up inside the weed house
AKA the treehouse, you need help? Then reach out
Nigga we hear
Hold on

[Verse 2]
Look
Look in my eyes, you lookin’ at pain
Lookin’ insane, things around, they lookin’ the same
I used to be in the spot with fiends who lookin’ for veins
It was goin’ downhill, get downhill, that sound ill
Block was lookin’ around spill, you would’ve thought we all from Brownsville
Up the hill for water, sorta like Jack when he found Jill
Eight digit nigga, could meet me uptown for pound still
How I move? You have to hate it, look at his face, he aggravated
Look at they man, they agitated, niggas don’t want it, tag ya favorite
Nigga, they signin’ affidavits
Still movin’ work but from my ocean view, I navigate it
You grew up Kenan Kel, well, me Larry Davis
Shorty said you like Boyz N The Hood slash The Matrix
Ooh, she so cool, she so smart
But I’m more like Mozart meets Ozark
Started when I was three, we used to throw darts off the go cart
That led to drive-bys, that homicide, I want that old chuck
Oh lord, yo Flex, I’m from some muddy shit
I’m talkin’ Big L, Max B, Huddy 6
Alimoe, Shammgod, Herb McGruff to name a few
Nah I ain’t the same as you and no I can’t hang with you homie
Man I’m sick of you, y’all nig