Written by: Michael Turner & Christopher Portugal
[Thes One:]
We're the electric, soul shock, body rock-and-rolling
Take a David T. Walk to that corner liquor store
And mama wants a new bag of George Benson and Hedges
They're menthylated, to all my P fans: I'm glad you waited
We graduated from paying dues to sitting on the porch
Brothers playing the blues, and to jam more pews
To fill up the funk church, the mass is massive
Tabernacle-y, crackle-y wax to sample the mantle of holy drums
([Spoken sample:] You guys are rolling bums)
With swollen thumbs, we roll through slums
Wines unbottled when we're done, you…
[Spoken sample:] Stand up! True with the rhythm! Get down!
Stand up! True with the rhythm! Get off!
[Double K:]
Yo, it's the art of fresh music, not that artificial crap
That the people calling rap, yeah, we getting rid of that
We rap, packing a beat 'til we feel it's complete
Break beats getting discovered, some get flipped to outnumber
The weak drum machines, don't use 'em, won't abuse 'em
Getting funky like crunky, call us the groove junkies
And we gotta have a fix every minute on the dot
Just a (uh)… and we tearing up your block
You can hear it up the street, you can hear it in your sleep
Booming out the record stores or while you at the swap meet
Macking to a (seven-piece), crunching on a two-piece
And to make your day funked up, people, just trust me (ay-yo!)
We back on the green dot, booming in your ghetto blaster
'Til midnight, feel right, and party 'til you drop
Hip hop live in the flesh, keep it well-dressed
Hands pushing up… now, all I wanna see you do is…
[Spoken sample:] Stand up! Clap your hands!
True with the rhythm! Get down!
Stand up! Get down! Stand up! Get down!
Stand up! Get down! Stand up! Get off!
[Thes One:]
Groove to the rhythm, something new to give 'em
I prove the rhythm soothes the women like night swimming
In a hot tub, ay, Double K got dubs, we rock clubs
Like Tiger Woods, giving up funk for goods
To Howard Robertson and Beverly Wood
And Al chewing cheeseburgers with my pals
Going home to lounge in the styles of my predecessors
The b-boy, nevertheless, The-s, the western born
To that early morn, to that "yes, yes, y'all"
Thes rock like a new clock on top of the school hall
Ringing roll call, professor heads shake
Monitor the gym hall up, taking out the flakes
With the 12-string incision, reinvent the rhythm
The cats that's living just like us
Now envision a mathematician giving up a calculator
Ay-yo, that's me without the funk, Double K rock the crossfader
[Spoken sample:] Get off!
[Double K:]
Yo, we got the whole world under surgery for funk transplants
Making music, not hooks, and no, we don't got the looks
We got bad memory, a gang of records and fans
Mad plans to keep it live with just the blink of an eye
Yeah, we thought that you thought that we wasn't coming back
He turned around and slapped that clown (Who told you that?)
We too cool for our riches, putting stitches on your Zip disk
Get this, hip hop's the drug and we in rehab, just be glad
That you don't live close to us, then you'll see most of us
And we be known to bust with no glitter here
June, you shoulda learnt a little sooner
It's the two 40s and a tie-hitch running through ya
Two villiains in the car chase (crash!)
Through your roadblock of weak beats
Continue with the mission through the streets
Of the Angel town with my Steely Dan frown
While I groove with the rhythm, move with the rhythm
Get off with it, I'm about to quit it, but before I step off
It's like ([Spoken sample:] Yeah! Ha ha ha!…)
To the break of daylight, it's right, now y'all…
([Spoken sample:] … Rastafy the sun of other funk!)
*Important Note: These transcriptions are not verified with P.U.T.S., so there may be errors. We are especially unsure of the greyed-out text. We encourage you to offer your suggestions for lyrics corrections on the site's main page.
Trivia:
This track appears on the following releases: