Can I Legally Print The Lyrics To Funk You Up?

If you've ever typed 'funk you up' into a search bar, you probably noticed the internet throws back a mix of classic funk hooks, old-school rap refrains, and a bunch of misheard lyric threads. I get a kick out of tracing where these little phrases come from — sometimes it’s a straight sample lifted into a rap track, sometimes it’s a chorus that became a meme, and sometimes folks just search fragments because they can’t remember the artist. From my late-night playlist-curation sessions and arguing with friends over who said what in a 70s track, here are the lines people most often hunt for when they search around that phrase, and why they pop up so frequently. First, the obvious old-school staples that often lead people to type in 'funk you up' or similar queries: lines like 'We've got to funk you up' from early hip-hop/funk crossover tracks (think late 70s/early 80s female rap crews and Sugarhill-era material) are canonical and get searched when someone hears a snippet in a club, ad, or sample. Another perennial is 'Stop! Hammer time!' which, while not a pure funk lyric, is tightly associated with the groove-forward, danceable sound that people link to the idea of being 'funked up' — it’s short, quotable, and shows up in memes and TikTok clips. Parliament/George Clinton family lines such as 'Tear the roof off the sucker' and playful vocal hooks like 'Bow-wow-wow-yippie-yo-yippie-yay' also show up a lot because they’re sampled constantly and listeners try to pin down the original source. Finally, hooks like 'Play that funky music' (Wild Cherry) still get searches when people want that quintessential funk moment that’ll "funk up" a room. Why the confusion and frequent searching? A few reasons: funk and funk-adjacent tracks are sample gold for hip-hop, so fragments get recycled into new songs without always being credited prominently. Add in misheard lyrics — those classic mondegreens — and you have people googling phonetic guesses. Then there’s the social media factor: 10–15 second clips on platforms can make a hook iconic without any lyrical context, so people search weird fragments. My go-to tips if you’re hunting for the exact line: include the fragment in quotes plus probable artist names or the word 'sample' (for example, '"funk you up" sample'), use an audio ID app like Shazam when you hear the clip live, and check lyric sites with community annotations like Genius for background info. I’ve solved more than one mystery that way — once from a vintage record crackle in a thrift-store ad that turned out to be a Sugarhill session. If you want specific, short lyric snippets, search engines love quoted phrases but keep them under a line or two so you don’t drown in unrelated hits. Also try searching with the era — ’70s funk’ or ’80s rap’ — if the production style is obvious. And if you’ve only got a hummed melody, a humming-to-song feature in a music ID app can be surprisingly useful. Happy sleuthing — tracking down the source of a funky hook is one of my favorite little ear-adventures, and it often leads to discovering whole artists you didn’t know you needed.

I still get a little thrill thinking about how wild it felt when I first dug into reviews of 'Funk You Up'—critics didn't have a single, unified take. Early write-ups from the late '70s and early '80s tended to treat it like a fun, dancefloor-ready novelty: the lyrics were seen as simple party chants, catchy and immediate rather than poetically ambitious. That wasn't always a put-down; many reviewers praised how the words locked into the groove and made people move. Decades later, scholarship and retrospective reviews changed the tone. Music historians celebrated the track's cultural importance—especially how a female trio used playful, assertive lines to stake their claim in a male-dominated scene. At the same time, some modern critics point out lyrical repetition and a lack of complicated metaphors, arguing the song trades depth for vibe. Personally, I enjoy that trade-off: those straightforward hooks are what made the track a doorway for people to fall in love with early hip-hop, and that legacy is worth more than any single rhyme scheme.

Wow, this one hits a sweet nostalgia spot for me — 'Funk You Up' is a classic little time capsule. The most concrete place you’ll find the song itself is on the original releases from Sugar Hill Records: it was first dropped as a single in 1979 by The Sequence, and then it shows up on the group's album release commonly titled 'Sugarhill Presents the Sequence' (their debut LP). That LP is the main studio album that includes 'Funk You Up' as a track, and if you’re digging through physical copies that’s the record I’d hunt for first. Beyond that original LP, the song has been recycled into a bunch of compilation and anthology releases over the years. Sugar Hill has had multiple “best of” and retrospective compilations — think boxed sets and 2-disc anthologies covering early hip-hop and funk — and 'Funk You Up' tends to appear on those because it’s one of the earliest female-fronted rap singles and a key Sugar Hill track. So you’ll often find it on various artist compilations that collect Sugar Hill’s early output or the roots of hip-hop. Titles vary by region and label reissue, but searching for compilations with phrases like 'Best of Sugar Hill', 'Sugar Hill Story', or 'Old School Hip Hop Essentials' usually turns it up. If what you actually want is the printed lyrics inside album booklets, that’s trickier. Early rap releases rarely included full lyric sheets the way folk or progressive rock albums often did; liner notes were usually short, and Sugar Hill singles and early LP sleeves sometimes prioritized credits and photos over full lyrics. Some later reissues, especially CD anthologies and deluxe packages, are more likely to include lyrics or expanded liner notes with partial transcriptions. If having the official-printed lyric is a must, your best bet is to look for deluxe reissues or curated anthologies from reputable labels that specialize in historical re-releases. In practice I find it easiest to pair hunting down those compilations with modern lyric and archival sites (Genius is one example) and streaming services that show credit information. Also, if you like poking around the physical world, record shops that stock old hip-hop and label-specific boxes sometimes have those Sugar Hill anthologies with booklets. Either way, tracking down the original 'Sugarhill Presents the Sequence' LP and a well-curated Sugar Hill compilation will get you the song; finding printed lyrics is a bit of a scavenger hunt but often possible in reissues or anthology booklets.

There’s something deeply joyful about 'Funk You Up' that still lands for me, even on a rainy morning when I’ve got coffee in one hand and headphones in the other. The lyrics read like an invitation — to dance, to be bold, to take up space — and that’s timeless. On first listen it’s playful and flirtatious, but when I think about it now I hear layers: early hip-hop’s celebration of community, a female trio claiming rhythm and attention, and a refusal to be polite about wanting to cut loose. Context helps: this came from the early days of recorded rap, when finding a beat and a hook was revolutionary. Today the words feel like a bridge between old-school party energy and modern empowerment anthems. When DJs spin it at a retro set I notice younger folks singing along without irony — they’re hungry for that raw, uncomplicated joy. I still play it when I need to shake off a bad meeting or get the apartment cleaned in record time. It’s simple, but it works: a reminder that music can be both cheeky and historically significant, and that danceable defiance never really goes out of style.

If you’re digging into the origins of that cheeky hook, the first place the lyrics to 'Funk You Up' actually showed up was on the record itself — the 1979 single by The Sequence released on Sugar Hill Records. I love pulling out a dusty vinyl when I want to feel time travel: that first encounter was always the audio release for me, not a lyric sheet in a magazine. The Sequence (with a young Angie Stone among the members) recorded it under Sylvia Robinson’s Sugar Hill umbrella, and that single is where the world first heard the lines delivered in that playful, pioneering female-rap voice. Beyond the initial 7" and whatever label copy came with it, the words were preserved and circulated later in reissues, compilation liner notes, and music-history books that document early hip-hop. Over the decades, as hip-hop scholarship grew and archives were digitized, those lyrics turned up in CD booklets, anthology liner notes, and eventually on many lyric websites and streaming-service metadata. I’ve traced songs by squinting at scanned sleeves in online archives and found the earliest printed appearances in later collections rather than the first pressing of the single — which is something that always surprises me: early rap was often an aural culture before it was a printed one. If you care about provenance, the audio release in 1979 is the primary source — that’s where the words were first introduced to the public. For printed documentation, look to subsequent Sugar Hill compilations and reissues, plus historical compilations and books about early hip-hop culture; they tend to reproduce the lyrics and context. I still get a thrill hearing that old groove on vinyl and thinking about how a phrase delivered on a small pressing would ripple through decades of music and sampling culture. If you want, I can point you to some reissues and anthologies where the printed text appears, or help find a decent streaming or vinyl copy so you can hear where it all started.

My search habit usually starts weirdly specific: I type the song title into the search bar and then chase clues. If you’re looking for the full lyrics to 'Funk You Up', the most reliable places I’ve found are the artist’s official site and the streaming services that now include synced lyrics — think Spotify (desktop and mobile), Apple Music, and Amazon Music. Often the official YouTube video or the channel’s description will have the lyrics or a link to them. If those don’t pan out, I go to licensed lyric sites like Genius, Musixmatch, or AZLyrics, but I treat them like starting points — crowd-sourced pages can have small errors. For definitive text, check the song’s liner notes (if you have a CD or vinyl) or the official songbook, and if you need the words for a project, contact the publisher or look up the performing rights organization (ASCAP/BMI) for the copyright holder. I usually end up buying a digital track or the sheet music to support the artist, and that’s felt better than bookmarking a random site.

You know that moment when a song feels perfect for a playlist but one or two words make you hesitate? That happened to me with 'Funk You Up' a while back, and I dug into how to get a clean version that still keeps the groove. Short version: yes, clean versions often exist, but it depends on the artist and release. Many artists or labels put out a 'radio edit' or 'clean version' of tracks specifically to remove profanity or explicit references. Streaming services, YouTube, and digital stores often label these edits as 'Clean' or 'Radio Edit', so searching for 'Funk You Up (Clean)' or 'Funk You Up (Radio Edit)' with the artist name is a great place to start. My go-to routine when hunting for sanitized lyrics is practical and a little obsessive: first check streaming platforms like Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music, and Tidal. They commonly tag explicit tracks and sometimes list alternate clean versions. Spotify also has a setting that can block explicit content entirely from playback, which is handy for family listening. YouTube often hosts official edited uploads from the artist or label, and you can spot a clean version by the title or by listening for a beep, silence, or replacement word. For lyrics specifically, sites like Genius, Musixmatch, and official artist sites sometimes include a clean transcription, but user-submitted sites can be hit-or-miss—user versions might sanitize too much or miss things entirely. If you want something foolproof, look for a release titled 'Clean Version' or 'Radio Edit' on stores like iTunes, or album liner notes that indicate a censored track. If you’re planning an event or trying to play the song around kids, karaoke or instrumental covers are lifesavers—there are often covers or re-recorded versions that never had the explicit line in the first place. Another trick that saved me at a family BBQ was finding a remix that replaces the problematic line with a different lyric or sound effect; it kept the energy of 'Funk You Up' without awkward moments. One caveat: sometimes what’s labeled as 'clean' online is just muted or bleeped, which can be jarring, so give it a quick listen before queuing it up for guests. If all else fails, contacting the label or checking the artist’s official channels can clarify whether a sanctioned clean version exists. I’d be happy to help track down a specific clean edit if you tell me which artist’s 'Funk You Up' you mean—different versions and covers show up under the same title sometimes, and that changes where to look. Personally, I prefer a subtle radio edit over a loud bleep; it keeps the vibe and spares everyone the cringe.

Spinning the dusty 45s in my head, the song that first put those words on vinyl was recorded by The Sequence. They were a female rap trio on Sugar Hill Records, and their single 'Funk You Up' dropped in 1979. I love telling people that because it feels like a secret handshake for old-school hip-hop nerds: this was one of the earliest mainstream tracks where women owned the mic and flirted with funk in a way that still sounds fresh when you play it loud. I found my copy digging through a flea market crate, and hearing those vocals crackle through cheap headphones made me grin. The track was produced by Sylvia Robinson, whose work at Sugar Hill helped launch a lot of early rap records. If you dig into liner notes or hip-hop histories you'll see The Sequence's 'Funk You Up' credited as an important early moment—both catchy and culturally significant. It’s the kind of record that makes you want to dig deeper into hip-hop's roots and the unsung voices that shaped its sound.