What Cool Breezes Do Lyrics
| Song | What Cool Breezes Do |
| Artist | Digable Planets |
| Album | Reachin' (A New Refutation Of Time And Space) |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Digable Planets | |
| You gotta do what ya feel | |
| Do what ya feel... | |
| If it's real | |
| [Verse 1: Ladybug Mecca] | |
| Exit planet Venus for a Brooklyn stroll | |
| Jazzy fly, nappy things, plaits, and a roll (?) | |
| Leaves fumble fallin' down; wind blowin' 'round | |
| Dig the layer change, the funkifying sound | |
| Mecca, the Ladybug, changin' like seasons | |
| Moves I be seein', changes life's reasons | |
| On to express the ways that I profess the | |
| Swoon unit glow, as I go; Butter flow | |
| I take a chance, go against the norm | |
| But they used to make advance to my lady form | |
| Ok, shall I smack a ghetto punk with the line? (but, Mecca) | |
| Ok, slap a meadow (?) punk with a fine | |
| I flip this only to the ones who lack respect | |
| The rest, just get your ticket pronto and jet, but please... | |
| [Hook 4x] | |
| [Verse 2: Butterfly] | |
| Check out the funk-brown bass, my man | |
| This be the medium used by Dig Plans | |
| Hit the cosmics like a funkonaut | |
| Leave the ladybugs with forget-Funk-nots (?) | |
| Black sunflowers, blue be your tulip (?) | |
| The sound from the gates, it'll zoom up your room | |
| Bugs block spots where Hip Hop be your norm | |
| If the Pri is the Kid, the floor's gettin' stormed | |
| With the bass in ya face, space is the place | |
| Bugs take a stand, goddamn, it's a jam | |
| C-note be no uncivilized just | |
| Poppin' out the jive in the jazz-causin' rush | |
| Can you dig it? My mellow, it's that cool cat sound | |
| (Doodlebug, Japrim (?) told that the G be gettin' down) | |
| Shit, it's mandatory, so you gots to demand it | |
| And if they cannot handle, take a ticket from the Planets and... | |
| [Verse 3: Doodlebug] | |
| Man, I ooze that, in the mad degrees | |
| With my crew and shit, honey dip, cool breeze | |
| Can you dig it? (I'm with it) (Butter, now you know) | |
| I know the wig gets the grade out (?) | |
| It's fat or else we'd be out | |
| Copped the rap bats from these cats out on Bleeker | |
| Rejuvenate the plates for my people and they speakers | |
| Nietzsche, Rap, make Anita crutch (?) | |
| Planets wouldn't allow themselves to grow like such | |
| Expressions, sightings, scripting, taught | |
| Finest status quo (?) is being an artist in New York | |
| Tongues be often fought, clothes be often caught | |
| If they call it phat, we just ignore it, like it's pork | |
| Planets got them thoughts bloomin' flowers in the dense | |
| They said that Rap was Venus (?), so we snuck and hopped the fence | |
| Landed in a meadow, glimpsed and saw a shadow | |
| Of brothers with guitars, common sense and puffy afros | |
| Lucks was getting brazed (?), Paps (?) was getting blazed | |
| Feds was crackin' domes, but these cats, they wasn't phased | |
| In tights grips, yet, their lips was talkin' fun | |
| Rhythms and the struggle kinda funneled into one | |
| True funk cannot disguise, because the streets have eyes | |
| Who's gonna revive the (?) vibe | |
| Did it like a Dig Planet, goddammit | |
| To get a good kick it, so get a good ticket and... |
| zuo ci : Digable Planets | |
| You gotta do what ya feel | |
| Do what ya feel... | |
| If it' s real | |
| Verse 1: Ladybug Mecca | |
| Exit planet Venus for a Brooklyn stroll | |
| Jazzy fly, nappy things, plaits, and a roll ? | |
| Leaves fumble fallin' down wind blowin' ' round | |
| Dig the layer change, the funkifying sound | |
| Mecca, the Ladybug, changin' like seasons | |
| Moves I be seein', changes life' s reasons | |
| On to express the ways that I profess the | |
| Swoon unit glow, as I go Butter flow | |
| I take a chance, go against the norm | |
| But they used to make advance to my lady form | |
| Ok, shall I smack a ghetto punk with the line? but, Mecca | |
| Ok, slap a meadow ? punk with a fine | |
| I flip this only to the ones who lack respect | |
| The rest, just get your ticket pronto and jet, but please... | |
| Hook 4x | |
| Verse 2: Butterfly | |
| Check out the funkbrown bass, my man | |
| This be the medium used by Dig Plans | |
| Hit the cosmics like a funkonaut | |
| Leave the ladybugs with forgetFunknots ? | |
| Black sunflowers, blue be your tulip ? | |
| The sound from the gates, it' ll zoom up your room | |
| Bugs block spots where Hip Hop be your norm | |
| If the Pri is the Kid, the floor' s gettin' stormed | |
| With the bass in ya face, space is the place | |
| Bugs take a stand, goddamn, it' s a jam | |
| Cnote be no uncivilized just | |
| Poppin' out the jive in the jazzcausin' rush | |
| Can you dig it? My mellow, it' s that cool cat sound | |
| Doodlebug, Japrim ? told that the G be gettin' down | |
| Shit, it' s mandatory, so you gots to demand it | |
| And if they cannot handle, take a ticket from the Planets and... | |
| Verse 3: Doodlebug | |
| Man, I ooze that, in the mad degrees | |
| With my crew and shit, honey dip, cool breeze | |
| Can you dig it? I' m with it Butter, now you know | |
| I know the wig gets the grade out ? | |
| It' s fat or else we' d be out | |
| Copped the rap bats from these cats out on Bleeker | |
| Rejuvenate the plates for my people and they speakers | |
| Nietzsche, Rap, make Anita crutch ? | |
| Planets wouldn' t allow themselves to grow like such | |
| Expressions, sightings, scripting, taught | |
| Finest status quo ? is being an artist in New York | |
| Tongues be often fought, clothes be often caught | |
| If they call it phat, we just ignore it, like it' s pork | |
| Planets got them thoughts bloomin' flowers in the dense | |
| They said that Rap was Venus ?, so we snuck and hopped the fence | |
| Landed in a meadow, glimpsed and saw a shadow | |
| Of brothers with guitars, common sense and puffy afros | |
| Lucks was getting brazed ?, Paps ? was getting blazed | |
| Feds was crackin' domes, but these cats, they wasn' t phased | |
| In tights grips, yet, their lips was talkin' fun | |
| Rhythms and the struggle kinda funneled into one | |
| True funk cannot disguise, because the streets have eyes | |
| Who' s gonna revive the ? vibe | |
| Did it like a Dig Planet, goddammit | |
| To get a good kick it, so get a good ticket and... |
| zuò cí : Digable Planets | |
| You gotta do what ya feel | |
| Do what ya feel... | |
| If it' s real | |
| Verse 1: Ladybug Mecca | |
| Exit planet Venus for a Brooklyn stroll | |
| Jazzy fly, nappy things, plaits, and a roll ? | |
| Leaves fumble fallin' down wind blowin' ' round | |
| Dig the layer change, the funkifying sound | |
| Mecca, the Ladybug, changin' like seasons | |
| Moves I be seein', changes life' s reasons | |
| On to express the ways that I profess the | |
| Swoon unit glow, as I go Butter flow | |
| I take a chance, go against the norm | |
| But they used to make advance to my lady form | |
| Ok, shall I smack a ghetto punk with the line? but, Mecca | |
| Ok, slap a meadow ? punk with a fine | |
| I flip this only to the ones who lack respect | |
| The rest, just get your ticket pronto and jet, but please... | |
| Hook 4x | |
| Verse 2: Butterfly | |
| Check out the funkbrown bass, my man | |
| This be the medium used by Dig Plans | |
| Hit the cosmics like a funkonaut | |
| Leave the ladybugs with forgetFunknots ? | |
| Black sunflowers, blue be your tulip ? | |
| The sound from the gates, it' ll zoom up your room | |
| Bugs block spots where Hip Hop be your norm | |
| If the Pri is the Kid, the floor' s gettin' stormed | |
| With the bass in ya face, space is the place | |
| Bugs take a stand, goddamn, it' s a jam | |
| Cnote be no uncivilized just | |
| Poppin' out the jive in the jazzcausin' rush | |
| Can you dig it? My mellow, it' s that cool cat sound | |
| Doodlebug, Japrim ? told that the G be gettin' down | |
| Shit, it' s mandatory, so you gots to demand it | |
| And if they cannot handle, take a ticket from the Planets and... | |
| Verse 3: Doodlebug | |
| Man, I ooze that, in the mad degrees | |
| With my crew and shit, honey dip, cool breeze | |
| Can you dig it? I' m with it Butter, now you know | |
| I know the wig gets the grade out ? | |
| It' s fat or else we' d be out | |
| Copped the rap bats from these cats out on Bleeker | |
| Rejuvenate the plates for my people and they speakers | |
| Nietzsche, Rap, make Anita crutch ? | |
| Planets wouldn' t allow themselves to grow like such | |
| Expressions, sightings, scripting, taught | |
| Finest status quo ? is being an artist in New York | |
| Tongues be often fought, clothes be often caught | |
| If they call it phat, we just ignore it, like it' s pork | |
| Planets got them thoughts bloomin' flowers in the dense | |
| They said that Rap was Venus ?, so we snuck and hopped the fence | |
| Landed in a meadow, glimpsed and saw a shadow | |
| Of brothers with guitars, common sense and puffy afros | |
| Lucks was getting brazed ?, Paps ? was getting blazed | |
| Feds was crackin' domes, but these cats, they wasn' t phased | |
| In tights grips, yet, their lips was talkin' fun | |
| Rhythms and the struggle kinda funneled into one | |
| True funk cannot disguise, because the streets have eyes | |
| Who' s gonna revive the ? vibe | |
| Did it like a Dig Planet, goddammit | |
| To get a good kick it, so get a good ticket and... |
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