She's been playin' them low life honky tonks for thirty years in Texas
She's sick and tired of all them Reba songs they keep requestin'
She's about to lose her voice, her hair's fallin' out and ain't nobody clappin'
So she think's she'll shape her head, buy a boom box and just turn to rappin'
She can't keep up, with them country healthers,
Gonna learn to shake her boobies, just like Salt N' Peppa
She done gone funky, a brand new tattoo
She done gone funky, a big nose ring too
She done gone funky, her favouite rap song's "Shoop"
She done gone funky,
Hah, you go girl!
Well, he never was good at suckin' up to all them country disc jockeys
It seemed like dag-blammed week, then some new hat act bumped him off the Opry
He had to sell his bus, his house, his cows: ain't had a hit since the sixties
Well he's fed with hearin' about: Travis, Garth, Tim McGraw, Collin Raye, Billy Ray Cyrus, John Michael Montgomery, and Joe Diffie
He saw Johnny Cash on MTV,
Bought a new new toupee, said: "That's the place for me"
He done gone funky, too ahead for his boots
He done gone funky, burned his cowboy boots
He done gone funky, wearin' platform shoes
He done gone funky!
Oh, Suki
Oh well, he moved up to Nashville, had big dreams of being a songwriter
Ha ha, 'bout the only things he's written down lately are some orders down at Brown's diner
If everybody's gone country, like Ali Jackson says,
Gonna move to Los Angeles and buy him a drum machine
He done gone funky, hangin' out with old Sloop
Doggy Dog, sippin' on gin and juice
He done gone funky, do wets for two live crew
He done gone funky
I feel good
He done gone funky
He done gone funky
He done gone funky
Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, funky
He done gone funky
She done gone funky