Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Appointment At The Fat Clinic, artist - Digable Planets. Album song Reachin' (A New Refutation Of Time And Space), in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1992
Record label: Capitol
Song language: English
Appointment At The Fat Clinic |
Smooth to the ooze came Butter |
Try to gank my style and I’ll hip you to the heater |
At the speed of bop grew the hard rock |
You can ask my dads Chairman Mao comrades |
Squattin' at they pads |
Diggin' on the jazz that’s the half of it |
Uncle Sam showed us all his space we refuted it |
Told him that ghetto is the aim, let go of my brain |
Then we changed your boogie cause your boogie had to change |
Caught a fat chat with a cat where I’m from |
Flipping mad tracks on a love child Nickel Bag |
Ah Mecca much jive and a jazz touch |
With a straight no chase, a Dig Plan erase |
Snatch an acid insect changed her dialect |
Mr. Doodlebug come tight with a ticket |
Said we couldn’t drip it |
Came in and we kicked it with a glass of water on the rocks |
Nip it |
Jazz, in the last 5 years has progressed in its fits |
And starts of sudden discoveries and |
Startled reactions. |
New principles, new sounds |
New rhythms and harmonies have been advanced with unusual frequency |
Not surprisingly, many of the younger musicians have been quietly digesting |
This information almost as quiuckly as it has appeared |
As a result, they’ve acquired a degree of |
Musical sophistication which supersedes many of the previous standards of |
excellence |
So it’s no longer especially relevant to ask the young saxophone player |
For example, to demonstrate his ability by running through all the Charlie |
Parker licks |
Come little hoods peep out the eyelids |
Stash a fat gat cause the loops let you dig |
With a Bloom Swoon and a Full Moon |
Mecca Bug no fake takes we let alone baits |
Pitchin' up your cakes might cause a horn rush but then a bass flush |
Meta more emphasis as I trip this Butter bug pour it out the mouth |
O.K. |
floater to the order don’t we wreck before we split |
From the chaos came the fattest little shit |
By the soak of it at the point of hammer click |
You could either read a little Marx or hang with Spiddyocks |
When the bass faces fix the deepest cuts they’re the sickest |
Then we just make you think you boomed with a quickness |
This is what’s the haps when I go to do my smack |
Cause the word got around about three cool cats |