Examination Of What (Digable Planets)

one day..while I was sipping some groove juice I realised..that in the span of time we're just babies..it's all relative, time is unreal. we're just babies, we're just babies, man every man's a planet and the props are there to get it insects roll together with the spirit in our orbit life, it comes & goes and you do not punch a clock I don't take shit for granted, I think of scott la rock also of tyrel and battles at the borders my cousins in the joint and the homeless grippin quarters the forests are all shrinking, this deepens to my thinkin don't cover up the nappy, be happy witcha kinkin! dwellin, yes, you're dwellin as the norm is itty-bitty figure eighty-fitty for a smidgen of the city in the serengetti, be ready for a box but beware of the shanks and the pistols and the glocks if your peoples don't getcha, you still ain't off clean the politicians' mask is worse than Hallowe'en I write the funky scripts so you know I got to kick 'em now tell me who's the vics and tell me who's the victim chorus what is really what is really what is really what: - if the funk don't move your butt - and if the box don't make you hot - and if the cats don't dig the raps - if your life ain't got no spice - or if the guns just wreck your fun - or if some shouts ain't in the house - or if your crew ain't down with you peace, this is mecca the ladybug and I'm sayin though! what is really what if I can't even get comfortable because the supreme court is, like, all in my uterus?! peace, this is cee-know the doodlebug and I want to say, what is what if you can't walk through your hood with bert, ernie and sesame street mossie trying to give the snuffleupagus. my father taught me jazz, all the peoples and the anthems ate peanuts with the dizz and vibed with lionel hampton now I'm swimming deep in the hip-hop with eclectics now do we gots the power or is it getting hectic? scribble swings the paddle at the mantel where I placed it hip-hop grew from roots but some emcees never traced it the oldjacks buckwild and some babies bore their fists but the crew from outer space is here.....SHIT we grew up digging styles of the fabulous fifth freddy and scoping out for days crazy legs and rocksteady now bleach is in the laundry, same old beats is handy the label may okay it but radio won't play it the censors are about so watch your mouth close your drapes the legs that's in the boots is on the corner, watch your tape making papes off the crust, for money and for lust you're playing out the planets get slammed, trust! you think it, see it, run it and slam it they peep it, hear it, lynch it and ban it it just ain't the haps if they know they can't control it your grass be in the joint but they licked it and rolled it so what? I'm sayin, what?! chorus what is really what is really what is really what: - if the funk don't rule your cut? - or if the streets don't dig your beats - or if my man ain't fifty grand? - or if the hoods don't think you're good? - or if your church don't really work - or if the pigs want to knock your wigs - or if the jeeps don't roll with beats cause butterfly is..baby, I'm just a baby, man I'm a baby, I'm just a baby, man and mister doodle? (I'm just a baby too) and miss mecca (I'm just a baby, man) and mister silk, he's just a baby, too and 801s, they just babies, man and miss venus, she's just a baby, man the ac-facts, they just a babies, man and dps, they just a babies, too oh and, dash, she's just a baby, man danny and dani, they are my babies, man oh and liz, she's just a baby, man oh and stella, she's just a baby, man doc shane, he's just a baby, man mike mann, he's just my main man and doctor timba, he's just a baby, man and nappy jackie, she's just a baby, too benefi-cent, he's just a baby, man oh, and you? you're just a baby, man