What Cool Breezes Do
(专辑: Reachin' (A New Refutation Of Time And Space) - 1993)
You gotta... You gotta do what ya feel, do what ya feel... If it's real Exit planet Venus for a
Brooklyn stroll Jazzy fly, nappy things, plaits, to a
roll Leaves fumble falling down, wind blowing 'round Dig the
layer change, the
funkifying sound Mecca, the
Ladybug, changing like seasons Moves I
be seeing, changes life's reasons On to express the
ways that I
profess the
Swoon unit glow, as I
go, Butter flow I
take a
chance, go against the
norm But they used to make advance to my lady form Ok, shall I
smack a
ghetto punk with the
line? (but, Mecca) Ok, slap a
meadow punk with a
fine I
flip this only to the
ones who lack respect The
rest, just get your ticket pronto and jet, but please... Do what ya feel, do what ya feel... If it's real Check out the
funk-brown bass, my man This be the
medium used by Dig Plans Hit the
cosmics like a
funkonaut Leave the
ladybugs with forget-Funk-nots Black sunflowers, blue be your tulip The
sound from the
gates, it'll zoom up your room Bugs block spots where Hip Hop be your norm If the
Pri is the
Kid, the
floor's getting stormed With the
bass in ya face, space is the
place Bugs take a
stand, goddamn, it's a
jam C-note be no uncivilized just Popping out the
jive in the
jazz-causing rush Can you dig it? My mellow, it's that cool cat sound (Doodlebug, Japrim told that the G
be getting down) Shit, it's mandatory, so you gots to demand it And if they cannot handle, take a
ticket from the
Planets so... Do what ya feel, do what ya feel... If it's real Man, I
ooze that, in the
mad degrees With my crew and shit, honey dip, cool breeze Can you dig it? (I'm with it) (Butter, now you know) I
know the
wig gets the
grade out It's fat or else we'd be out Copped the
rap bats from these cats out on Bleeker Rejuvenate the
plates for my people and they speakers Nietzsche, Rap, make Anita crutch Planets wouldn't allow themselves to grow like such Expressions, sightings, scripting, taught Finest status quo is being an artist in New York Tongues be often fought, clothes be often caught If they call it a
fad, we just ignore it, like it's pork Planets got them thoughts blooming flowers in the
dense They said that Rap was Venus, so we snuck and hopped the
fence Landed in a
meadow, glimpsed and saw a
shadow Of brothers with guitars, common sense and puffy afros Lucks was getting brazed, Paps was getting blazed Feds was cracking domes, but these cats, they wasn't phased In tights grips, yet, their lips was talking fun Rhythms and the
struggle kinda funneled into one True funk cannot disguise, because the
streets have eyes Who's gonna revive? Well us and delic vibe Did it like a
Dig Planet, goddammit To get a
good kick it, suggest ya get ya ticket and... Do what ya feel, do what ya feel... If it's real