| Jazz is the substance and base
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| Of manifestation of Grits for Nubian taste
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| The voice of the horn cries for freedom of imprisonment
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| Releasing the soul from the shackles of environment
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| The bass is like the blood in your veins
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| Pumping breath to your organs so life can maintain
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| Of course we need the skins to keep the timin'
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| Like your heart plays the part of keepin' everything in line
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| Like brain waves the keys sound signals in spurts and harmony
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| Where would you be without the melody
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| The vocalist in this quartet is the Spirit
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| Or better yet the Son of Man
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| So there you have it broken down anatomically
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| Grits illustrated for the ones that doubt
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| Cause the heart is expressed in the music and always has
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| This is what I think about Jazz
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| Jazz is the mother and Hip Hop’s the child
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| She died and revived now her child’s runnin' wild
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| Grits is the tool and Hip Hop’s the Nation
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| Sent to teach those of Truth and Creation
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| Jazz is the mother and Hip Hop’s the child
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| She died and revived now her child’s runnin' wild
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| Grits is the tool and Hip Hop’s the Nation
|
| Sent to teach those of Truth and Creation
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| The jazz, the jazz, I love the jazz
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| The jazz, the jazz, I love the jazz
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| The jazz, the jazz, I love the jazz
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| The jazz, the jazz, I love the jazz
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| The jazz, the jazz, the jazz, the jazz
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| Rap is not Hip Hop so let’s get it straightened
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| Hip Hop is life and culture not revenue
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| Birthed from the generation of the younger
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| The hunger for equality fathered this child
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| The mother is the music which influenced it’s creation
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| Jazz was the cry from the parents of this new Nation
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| Since it’s birth I’ve grown with it even though
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| It’s been the target of murder and a victim of rape
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| Yet it still live’s never givin' in
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| Takin' deeper breaths grippin' tighter than a vise
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| Many misunderstand it’s true meaning
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| They think it’s economic and this causes drama
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| Black-birthed, black-grown, black-owned
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| Was the thought intended, but now the plans demented
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| Will a million Blacks even support it’s own Creation
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| Until then I’m teachin' other’s of the strugglin' Nation
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| Jazz is the mother and Hip Hop’s the child
|
| She died and revived now her child’s runnin' wild
|
| Grits is the tool and Hip Hop’s the Nation
|
| Sent to teach those of Truth and Creation
|
| Jazz is the mother and Hip Hop’s the child
|
| She died and revived now her child’s runnin' wild
|
| Grits is the tool and Hip Hop’s the Nation
|
| Sent to teach those of Truth and Creation
|
| The jazz, the jazz, I love the jazz
|
| The jazz, the jazz, I love the jazz
|
| The jazz, the jazz, I love the jazz
|
| The jazz, the jazz, I love the jazz
|
| The jazz, the jazz, the jazz, the jazz
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| The jazz, the jazz, I love the jazz
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| And always have it represents my culture
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| My roots stem from a musical background
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| Ancestral voices sing to my spirit
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| In the wind I hear it’s messages telling me
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| To stay strong through the hatred of others
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| Love thy enemy sounds so wrong to me
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| The reward is in the end so I feel suicidal
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| Strength unseen is laced in the chords
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| I consume volumes at a time when I hoard
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| My survival lies in my faith in the Savior
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| And the Savor of jazz music in my ear
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| The jazz is the mother and Hip Hop’s the child
|
| She died and revived now her child’s runnin' wild
|
| Grits is the tool and Hip Hop’s the Nation
|
| Sent to teach those of Truth and Creation
|
| Jazz is the mother and Hip Hop’s the child
|
| She died and revived now her child’s runnin' wild
|
| Grits is the tool and Hip Hop’s the Nation
|
| Sent to teach those of Truth and Creation
|
| Jazz is the mother and Hip Hop’s the child
|
| She died and revived now her child’s runnin' wild
|
| Grits is the tool and Hip Hop’s the Nation
|
| Sent to teach those of Truth and Creation |