Lyrics
Yeah, know what I mean Rick?
Know what I mean Rick?
Know what I mean Slick, Whoa!
Yeah, whee!
Fine grown Pine-Sol
Heavenly rhyme throne
Remember when you were young in the '70 time zone
Stages, ages about seven I say kids
The dress code of our parents looked awfully outrageous
Not down on 'em, games and clownin
When soul was at it’s highest rate like James Brown and them
Soothing every black thing, A groovy era acting
'Member seeing Shaft in the movie theater back then?
I feel Richard Roundtree got 'em a fly deal
Black man wearing bell bottom and high heels
Laughed a lot, some action mass production
Remember when cars were darn near half a block long?
Parents were so into that crap
Bunch of sweet memories to us older rap cats
Muhammad Ali knuckling in tournament
Pimp daddy hats with buckles and ornaments
How we forget snappy
Five people sleepin' in one matress and yet happy
Could even make sex seem sour
As I impress the world with my extreme power, cause
Rick make memories sealed in almanacs
Not to mention the immence appeal the mack hat
When you wake up in the morning (redeem from any crap)
Because I bring that love and feeling back to rap
For situated as poor beneficialator
Kool-Aid couldn’t last a hot minute in the refrigerator
School notes, sliding and stealing, hidin 'em
Bazooka, bubble gum cartoons still inside of 'em
No way same essence of it’s earned paper
Pimps flyest dressin' muthafuckas, weren’t they?
But hood lies, you afraid of a good wine?
I used to love the actor who portrayed one on Good Times
You need a friend to warn a soul, man it kinda slow
One thing 'bout it bro, overflow when it’s kinda so (shame)
Life, a pitiful game
'Member the robot?
That was my shit on Soul Train
Got hyped too, psyched too
And the feelin’s right too, chilling on the fire
Escape on a nice night too
No one gone try hurt di mon
Remember Right on, Blood and Jive Turkey slang?
Brothers chippin' in for alcoholic money
When you look at old flicks don’t we all look funny?
Could even make sex seem sour
As I impress the world with my extreme power, cause
Yo' mama, damn we used to talk improper then
Member when we used to walk bop, walk bop again?
Giving them the rythym that we brought
Push our hand back like we was swimming when we walked
Bad all about, Huggie Bear, Rat all about
Member afros, what the fuck was that all about?
Buenos noches accents too… friends too
Everybody had a lot of roaches back then too
Profusely around us, Lucy Afarensis
Fleets wearing Bruce Lee Bananas
And kick shit, ball in the hand and stick with
And we use to be in some of the 'man you in deep shit'
Most cases, father away for good
Local Flat Foot was part-of the neighborhood
Standard, and the panthers (Wow)
Used to dress like Erykah Badu and Amanda’s now
Could even make sex seem sour
As I impress the world with my extreme power, cause