Luyện nghe bài hát Examination of What

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

man's a planet 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
of tyreo and battles at the borders
My cousins in the joint and the grippin' quarters
The forests are all shrinking, deepens to my thinkin
Don't cover up the nappy, be happy kinkin'

Dwellin', yes, you're dwellin' as the norm is
Figure for a smidgen of the city
In the Serengeti, be for a box
But beware of the and the pistols and the glocks
If your peoples don't getcha, you still ain't off
The politicians' mask is worse Halloween
I write the funky scripts so you know I got to 'em
Now tell me the vice and tell me who's the victim

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

Peace, this is Mecca the
And I'm sayin' though, what is what
If I even get comfortable
Because the court is like
All in my

Peace, is Cee-Know of the doodlebug
And I wanna say, is what if
You walk through your hood
Bert, Ernie and Sesame Street
Mossies to give the snuffleupagus

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

We grew up digging styles of the fabulous fifth
And scoping out for days legs and rock steady
Now bleach is in the laundry, same old beats is
The label may okay it but radio won't it
The censors are so watch your mouth close your drapes
The legs in the boots is on the corner, watch your tape
Making papes off the crust, for money and for
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 know they can't it
Your grass be in the joint but they it and rolled it
So

I'm saying what is what
If the funk rule your cut?
Or if the streets dig your beats
Or if my man ain't grand?
Or if the hoods don't you're good?
Or if your don't really work
Or if the pigs wanna your wigs
Or if the jeeps 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, just a baby, too
And 801s, they babies, man
And Miss Venus, she's a baby, man
The AC-facts, they a babies, man
And DPS, they a babies, too

Oh and, Dash, just 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 Jackie, she's just a baby, too
Benefi-Cent, just a baby, man
Oh, and you? just a baby, man