Letras
You know it's funky funky funky 'cause you heard it from here, say
A jam (?) oven rockin' underground airwaves
Words amplify through your speakers and amps
it's time to get down, get down with the Sound Pro camp
And clap your hands, to the rhythm we bring
this is a joyous event so let your physical swing
Breakbeats and backspins, an old pad and a pen
These are broke mans poems, from begining to end
The P-are-O with the soul, so let the record play
Revival of an old school sound, for the president
Always on point, no time for what the jealous say
The essence of a real rap sound, check the resume
And keep it movin', yo the vibes right here
Three sixty degrees another world premiere
So raise your glass, 'cause we're the toast of the town
Yo, Soul grab the mic 'cause it's time to get down
(So let's get down, get down)
(So get down, get down)
(So let's get down, get down)
(So get down, get down)
(So let's get down, get down)
(So get down, get down)
(So let's get down, get down)
(So get down, get down)
Check it, I exist in the world of sound
Hit record spots from town to town
Dug deep in the crates where plates are found
Schooled by the greats that shaped the round
Phonograph, yo I break roots in half
Straight architect gets down for the craft
With the sound that hits the spot
Makin' heads bob while your speakers get hot (echoes)
I'm gonna add vocab into the mix
Articulate my words so the concept sticks
G-E-T-D-O-W-N
Then ascend with the three Sound men
Straight to the peak, where poets speak
Jams are live and people vibe
To the underground sound that's history bound
Once again, we're gonna get on down
(So let's get down, get down)
(So get down, get down)
(So let's get down, get down)
(So get down, get down)
(So let's get down, get down)