| One day while I was sipping some groove juice I realized
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| That in the span of time we’re just babies
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| It’s all relative, time is unreal
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| We’re just babies, we’re just babies, man
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| Check out, check out
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| Every man’s a planet and the props are there to get it
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| Insects roll together with the spirit in our orbit
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| Life, it comes & goes and you do not punch a clock
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| I don’t take shit for granted, I think of Scott La Rock
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| Also of Tyrel and the battles at the borders
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| My cousins in the joint and the homeless gripping quarters
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| The forests are all shrinking, this deepens to my thinking
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| Don’t cover up the nappy, be happy whatcha kinking
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| Dwelling, yes, you’re dwelling as the norm is itty-bitty
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| Figure eighty-fitty for a smidgen of the city
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| In the Serengeti, get ready for a box
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| But beware of the shanks and the pistols and the Glocks
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| If your peoples don’t getcha, you still ain’t off clean
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| The politicians mask is worse than Halloween
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| I write the funky scripts so you know I got to kick em
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| Now tell me who’s the vics and tell me who’s the victim
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| What is really what is really what is really what
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| — if the funk don’t move your butt
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| — and if the box don’t make you hot
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| — and if the cats don’t dig the raps
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| — if your life ain’t got no spice
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| — or if the guns just wreck your fun
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| — or if some shouts ain’t in the house
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| — or if your crew ain’t down with you
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| Peace, this is Mecca the Ladybug and I’m saying though
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| What is really what if I can’t even get comfortable
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| Because the Supreme Court is like, all in my uterus
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| Peace, this is Cee-Know the Doodlebug and I wanna say
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| What is what if you can’t walk through your hood with Bert, Ernie and Sesame
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| Street posse
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| Trying to give the Snuffleupagus
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| My father taught me jazz, all the peoples and the anthems
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| Ate peanuts with the Dizz and vibed with Lionel Hampton
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| Now I’m swimming deep in the hip-hop with eclectics
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| Now do we gots the power or is it getting hectic
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| Scribble swings the paddle at the mantel where I placed it
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| Hip-hop grew from roots but some emcees never traced it
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| The old-jacks buckwild and some babies bore their fists
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| But the crew from outer space is here, shit
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| We grew up digging styles of the fabulous fifth Freddy
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| And scoping out for days crazy legs and rocksteady
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| Now bleach is in the laundry, the same old beats is handy
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| The label may okay it but radio won’t play it
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| The censors are about so watch your mouth close your drapes
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| The legs that’s in the boots is on the corner, with your tape
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| Making papes off the crust, for money and for lust
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| You’re playing out the planets get slammed, trust
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| You think it, see it, run it and slam it
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| They peep it, hear it, lynch it and ban it
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| It just ain’t the haps if they know they can’t control it
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| Your grass be in the joint but they licked it and rolled it
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| So what
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| I’m saying what
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| What is really what is really what is really what
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| If the funk don’t rule your cut
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| Or if the streets don’t dig your beats
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| Or if my man ain’t fifty grand
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| Or if the hoods don’t think you’re good
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| Or if your church don’t really work
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| Or if the pigs wanna knock your wigs
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| Or if the jeeps don’t roll with beats
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| Cause Butterfly is. |
| baby, I’m just a baby, man
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| I’m a baby, I’m just a baby, man
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| And Mr. Doodle? |
| (I'm just a baby too)
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| And Miss Mecca (I'm just a baby, man)
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| And Mister Silk, he’s just a baby, too
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| And 801s, they just babies, man
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| And Miss Venus, she’s just a baby, man
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| The ac-facts, they just a babies, man
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| And dps, they just a babies, too
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| Oh and, Dash, she’s just a baby, man
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| Danny and Dani, they are my babies, man
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| Oh and Liz, she’s just a baby, man
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| Oh and Stella, she’s just a baby too
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| Doc Shane, he’s just a baby, man
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| Mike Mann, he’s just my main man
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| And Doctor Timba, he’s just a baby, man
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| And nappy Jackie, she’s just a baby, too
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| Benefi-cent, he’s just a baby, man
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| Oh, and you
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| You’re just a baby, man
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| Ladybug here y’all with Silver Tongue
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| Nice cold drums
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| With eyes, open wide
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| And open pride, which lies inside
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| The Digable Planets' eyes
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| Peace, this is Cee-Know, the notorious Doodlebug
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| Giving universal salutations to my peoples
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| Dwelling in the seventh dimension
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| Brother Butter
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| Uh, um, it was real fun
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| Sector six, here I come
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| Chilling out, pops and Dani I’m out, later |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Examination Of What, artist - Digable Planets. Album song Reachin' (A New Refutation Of Time And Space), in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп