Calls me by the gas, what about it? You got this motherfuckin' funk in, man.
Say, you got this funk in, man.
Yeah, man, we got this funk in, man.
Man, I'm so used to having slack, man.
I said, yeah, man, we got this funk in, man.
Cool air rollin' down the street, sneakers tappin' to the beat.
Who said hills can't bring the heat? Watch the whole town move his feet.
Coffee shops by day, sure, but tonight we want some more.
Trade that latte for a groove, let the mountain city move.
From the valley to the sky, feel that rhythm climbin' high.
Frog and funk together blend, this is how the weekend ends.
Mountain city gets funky.
Not slow, not sleepy, bass bouncin' off the trees.
Sax ridin' on the breeze, da-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.
DaLat, loosen up, feel your dancing cup.
Old school soul attack, and there's no turnin' back.
Motorbikes parked outside, inside we let it slide.
Wawa cryin' sharp and sweet, drums knockin' out your heartbeat.
Friends and strangers side by side, no cool face left to hide.
When the groove is this tight, everybody's shinin' bright.
This ain't background music, no, this is let your body go.
If you feel it in your chest, you already know where it rests.
Mountain city gets funky.
A little wild, a little chunky, slap bass talkin' slang.
Guitar cuttin' back, da-la-la-la-la-la-la.
Don't pretend you've been waitin' for this blend.
Old school comeback, put the hilltown on the map.
How about the traffic light?
Stars watchin' Friday night.
If the fog begins to roll,
it just adds to the soul.
Mountain city gets funky.
Loud, proud, it's funky.
From the first drum crack to the final horn attack.
When they ask, what shook the hill, you'll say,
mountain city, yeah.