We ain’t marks y’all okay pow me up
They asked was it cool blues knowledge
But hipness takes a swirl and jams by my crew
The tenor bop the middle and his shades and his tam
Wallowed through a gang a murk in the interim
Assumin' that the room in which you zooms designed by your mind
The fly shit y’all, we don’t quit y’all
I lay it on the cats about monk
I know the nat y’all I'm layin' out y’all, yeah
Jimmy Cob's job was layin' crashes on the top
I couple time we got jerked but still invented them
Butter cop his lid at this little Harlem jam
I found the reverberated shout was goddamn
Pumas that butter got when butter got paid
They kill the coolest breeze in this land of the free
I'm thinkin' take the hipness and just lay it in my form
Doodlebug’s math jazz fillin' up the room
Not the stars and stripes but red Cali? booms
The spinnin' by the kings good for speakin' of the mind
I bust raps y’all, in love with naps y’all
I wreck the break y’all, don’t trust the flag y’all
The dads is gone but they used to come lovely
The new scat slips, oh shit, we got fly kicks
And also kept the jazz alive by pullin' off the plates
The sickness towards the world’s cause Sam caused the blues
My baby loves to kiss when Ornette just lays out
When Booker jam with Eric at the funky five spot
I kicks to my pools by the nap of their hair
It’s slick beats here and it’s out there
I'm diggin' how these dudes made my buzz a little hipper
I'm sinkin' deep to the sleekness of the horn
The season’s been good like a sweet
I player late y’all and draw down to
But I used Lee's Cooker got my buzz around midnight
The jazz power showers from the crew was sure legit
A smooth groove kid, the jive is high y’all
So I pops it at your crew like Bu I did a lid
Was it that the rebirth was the birth for new shit, of cool shit
In ten fourths y’all, I pay your cap y’all
The forty seven sessions gave the buzzes that I caught
Infect space y’all, we swing time y’all
So when the hoodlums flood waitin' for another anthem
It’s simple, swing be the freakin' of the time
The logical extensions comin' boomin' out that trunk
The sweet beats kid, I speak my thoughts y’all
Like all my main mans gave they beats up for skags
I felt Bird Parker when I shot it in my vein
Maybe only we was hip to stretchin' out the brain
(What you thought?)
From sector six, yeah and now and then too
Wicked little kinky joints that got us ghetto weight
The season’s been smooth like the suede
Uh, the seasons been fat like some boom
I hang out with a gang out flat bush with cool beats
I slows the trims y’all and fades a fake now
I told 'em it was solid, dig, the licks was way out
And rhythm goes on and on to the break of moon, baby
For losin' Bud Powell slidin' over Dizzy's notes
Flip off into a nod and dig myself a dyin' young
I toss these major losses on the Mingus jazzy strum
And it been like that since they lied about they flag
It’s like milk yeah, it’s like be bop
I'm so shy y’all, I'm hip to badge y’all
I'm pinnin' Uncle Sam for the death of swingin' quotes
And questions 'bout the methods how the Planets made jam
But hey, present since gone Hank Mo's gone
You down with Digable Planets yous a hipster, shit
Or better still Trane usin' space in afro blue
And the rat-a-tat-tat by Max or Philly Joe on we go
So the quotes be as such bout the kits, uh
It’s like cool was the bop and the flair
I say it’s in the blood cause it notin' but rhythm
And angles on the moves really couldn’t get no blacker
I dig the birds y’all, I'm layin' out now, yeah
Or better yet Dolphy's archetypes for cool dudes
