Luyện nghe bài hát Examination of What

One day I was sipping some groove juice
I that in the span of time we're just babies
It's all relative, time is
We're babies, we're just babies, man
We're just babies, we're babies, man
We're just babies, we're babies, man
just babies, we're just babies, man

Every man's a and the props are there to get it
Insects roll with the spirit in our orbit
Life, it and goes and you do not punch a clock
I don't shit for granted, I think of Scott la rock
Also of tyreo and battles at the
My cousins in the joint and the homeless quarters
The forests are all shrinking, deepens to my thinkin
Don't up the nappy, be happy witcha kinkin'

Dwellin', yes, you're dwellin' as the is itty-bitty
eighty-fifty for a smidgen of the city
In the Serengeti, be for a box
But of the shanks and the pistols and the glocks
If your peoples getcha, you still ain't off clean
The politicians' mask is worse than
I the funky scripts so you know I got to kick 'em
Now tell me who's the and tell me who's the victim

So what is really what, is what
If the don't move your butt
And if the box make you hot
And if the cats don't dig the
If your life ain't got no
Or if the just wreck your fun
Or if some ain't in the house
Or if your crew ain't down you

Peace, this is Mecca the
And I'm sayin' though, what is really
If I can't even get
Because the supreme is like
All in my

Peace, is Cee-Know of the doodlebug
And I say, what is what if
You can't walk your hood
Bert, Ernie and Sesame Street
Mossies trying to give the

My father taught me jazz, all the and the anthems
Ate peanuts with the dizz and with Lionel Hampton
Now I'm swimming deep in the hip-hop with
Now do we got the power or is it getting
Scribble swings the paddle at the where I placed it
Hip-hop grew from but some emcees never traced it
The old jacks buck wild and some bore their fists
But the crew from outer space is shit

We grew up digging styles of the fifth Freddy
And scoping out for days crazy legs and steady
Now bleach is in the laundry, same old is handy
The label may it but radio won't play it
The censors are about so watch your mouth your drapes
The legs that's in the boots is on the corner, your tape
Making papes off the crust, for and for lust
You're playing out the get slammed, trust

You it, see it, run it and slam it
They peep it, it, lynch it and ban it
It just ain't the haps if they they can't control it
Your grass be in the joint but licked it and rolled it
So

I'm what is really what
If the funk don't rule cut?
Or if the streets dig your beats
Or if my man ain't fifty
Or if the hoods don't you're good?
Or if your church really work
Or if the pigs wanna knock wigs
Or if the don't roll with beats

butterfly is baby, I'm just a baby, man
I'm just a baby, I'm a baby, man
I'm just a baby, I'm a baby, man

And Mister Doodle? I'm just a too
And Miss Mecca I'm a baby, man
And Mister Silk, he's a baby, too
And 801s, just babies, man
And Venus, she's just a baby, man
The AC-facts, they a babies, man
And DPS, they a babies, too

Oh and, Dash, she's a baby, man
Danny and Dani, are my babies, man
Oh and Liz, she's a baby, man
Oh and Stella, just a baby, too
Doc Shane, just a baby, man
Mann, he's just my main man
And doctor Timba, just a baby, man
And Nappy Jackie, just a baby, too
Benefi-Cent, just a baby, man
Oh, and you? just a baby, man