Last Of The Spiddyocks Lyrics - Reachin' (a New Refutation Of Time And Space) - Digable Planets

I'm blue mood yall, I slive with jiva yall 

I'm actually deep yall, invented time yall 

In ten fourths yall, I pay your cap yall 

I player late yall and draw down to 

I bust raps yall, in love with naps yall 

The sweet beats kid, I speak my thoughts yall 

I wreck the break yall, dont trust the flag yall 

I dig the birds yall, I'm layin' out now, yeah 

The seasons been good like a sweet 

I hang out with a gang out flat bush with cool beats 

I found the reverberated shout was goddamn 

And questions 'bout the methods how the Planets made jam 

Wallowed through a gang a murk in the interim 

I couple time we got jerked but still invented them 

Wicked little kinky joints that got us ghetto weight 

And also kept the jazz alive by pullin' off the plates 

Maybe only we was hip to stretchin' out the brain 

I felt Bird Parker when I shot it in my vein 

I toss these major losses on the Mingus jazzy strum 

Flip off into a nod and dig myself a dyin' young 

Its like cool was the bop and the flair 

I kicks to my pools by the nap of their hair 

I'm pinnin' Uncle Sam for the death of swingin' quotes 

For losin' Bud Powell slidin' over Dizzy's notes 

Was it that the rebirth was the birth for new shit, of cool shit 

The jazz power showers from the crew was sure legit 

But hey, present since gone Hank Mo's gone 

They kill the coolest breeze in this land of the free 

And it been like that since they lied about they flag 

Like all my main mans gave they beats up for skags 

So I pops it at your crew like Bu I did a lid 

But I used Lee's Cooker got my buzz around midnight 

I'm so shy yall, I'm hip to badge yall 

From sector six, yeah and now and then too 

I slows the trims yall and fades a fake now 

I know the nat yall I'm layin' out yall, yeah 

The seasons been smooth like the suede 

Pumas that butter got when butter got paid 

Or better yet Dolphy's archetypes for cool dudes 

Or better still Trane usin' space in afro blue 

Its simple, swing be the freakin' of the time 

The spinnin' by the kings good for speakin' of the mind 

The forty seven sessions gave the buzzes that I caught 

They asked was it cool blues knowledge 

(What you thought?) 

I told 'em it was solid, dig, the licks was way out 

My baby loves to kiss when Ornette just lays out 

So the quotes be as such bout the kits, uh 

You down with Digable Planets yous a hipster, shit 

I lay it on the cats about monk 

The logical extensions comin' boomin' out that trunk 

Assumin' that the room in which you zooms designed by your mind 

Not the stars and stripes but red Cali? booms 

And the rat-a-tat-tat by Max or Philly Joe on we go 

The fly shit yall, we dont quit yall 

Its slick beats here and its out there 

A smooth groove kid, the jive is high yall 

We aint marks yall okay pow me up 

Uh, the seasons been fat like some boom 

Doodlebugs math jazz fillin' up the room 

When Booker jam with Eric at the funky five spot 

Jimmy Cob's job was layin' crashes on the top 

Butter cop his lid at this little Harlem jam 

The tenor bop the middle and his shades and his tam 

I'm diggin' how these dudes made my buzz a little hipper 

And angles on the moves really couldnt get no blacker 

I'm sinkin' deep to the sleekness of the horn 

I'm thinkin' take the hipness and just lay it in my form 

So when the hoodlums flood waitin' for another anthem 

I say its in the blood cause it notin' but rhythm 

And rhythm goes on and on to the break of moon, baby 

The dads is gone but they used to come lovely 

The sickness towards the worlds cause Sam caused the blues 

But hipness takes a swirl and jams by my crew 

Infect space yall, we swing time yall 

Its like milk yeah, its like be bop 

The new scat slips, oh shit, we got fly kicks 

Its like jazz, uh, its like us now