what cool breezes do (live) - digable planets lyrics
[intro]
you gotta
you gotta
you gotta
you gotta
[chorus]
you gotta do what ya feel, do what ya feel
do what ya feel, yeah, do what ya feel
do what ya feel, do what ya feel
do what ya feel, yeah, do what ya feel
do what ya feel, do what ya feel
do what ya feel, yeah, do what ya feel
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 to a roll
leaves fumble falling down, wind blowing ’round
dig the layer change, the funkifying sound
mecca, the ladybug, changing like seasons
moves i be seeing, changes life’s reasons
on to express the ways that i profess the
swoon unit glow, as i go, b*tter flow
i take a chance, go against the norm
but they used to make advance to my lady form
okay, shall i smack a ghetto punk with the line?
(but, mecca) okay, slap a meadow punk with a fine
i flip this only to the onеs who lack respect
the rеst, just get your ticket pr*nto and jet, but please
[chorus]
do what ya feel, do what ya feel
do what ya feel, yeah, do what ya feel
do what ya feel, do what ya feel
if it’s real
[verse 2: doodlebug]
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, broom be your tomb
if sound from the digs, it’ll zoom up your room
bugs block spots where hip*hop be your norm
if capri is the kid, the floor’s gettin’ stormed
with the bass in ya face (what?)
sp*ce is the place (uh)
bugs take a stand, godd*mn, it’s a jam (yeah)
c*note be no uncivilized just
poppin’ out the jive in the jazz*causing rush
can you dig it? my mellow, it’s that cool cat sound
(doodlebug, j*prim told me that the g be gettin’ down)
sh*t, that’s mandatory, so you gots to demand it
and if they cannot help, here’s a ticket to the planets so
[chorus]
do what ya feel, do what ya feel
do what ya feel, yeah, do what ya feel
do what ya feel, do what ya feel
if it’s real
[verse 3: b*tterfly]
man, i ooze that, in the mad degrees
with my crew and sh*t, honey dip, cool breeze
can you dig it? (i’m with it)
(b*tter, 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 (uh*huh, okay)
rejuvenate the plates for my peoples and they speakers
nietzsche, rap, make anita crutch (uh*huh)
planets wouldn’t allow themselves to grow like such (okay)
expressions, sightings, scripting, taught
finest status quo is being an artist in new york
tongues be often forked, clothes be often caught
if they call it fad, we just ignore it like it’s pork (okay)
planets got them thoughts blooming flowers in the dense (yeah)
they said the grass was greener so we snuck and hopped the fence (uh)
landed in a meadow (uh)
glimpsed and saw a shadow (okay)
of brothers with guitars, common sense and puffy afros (yeah)
lucks was getting brazed (what?)
paps was getting blazed
feds was cracking domes, but these cats, they wasn’t phased
in tight 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? well, us and delic vibe
did it like a dig planet, goddammit
to get a good kick it, suggest ya get ya ticket and
[chorus]
do what ya feel, do what ya feel
do what ya feel, yeah, do what ya feel
do what ya feel, do what ya feel
if it’s real
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