Lyric: “Examination of What” (Digable Planets)

one day..while I was sipping some groove juice I realised..that in the
span of time we’re just babies..it’s all relative, time is unreal.

we’re just babies, we’re just babies, man (x 4)

every man’s a planet and the props are there to get it
insects roll together with the spirit in our orbit
life, it comes & goes and you do not punch a clock
I don’t take shit for granted, I think of scott la rock
also of tyrel and battles at the borders
my cousins in the joint and the homeless grippin quarters
the forests are all shrinking, this deepens to my thinkin
don’t cover up the nappy, be happy witcha kinkin!
dwellin, yes, you’re dwellin as the norm is itty-bitty
figure eighty-fitty for a smidgen of the city
in the serengetti, be ready for a box
but beware of the shanks and the pistols and the glocks
if your peoples don’t getcha, you still ain’t off clean
the politicians’ mask is worse than Hallowe’en
I write the funky scripts so you know I got to kick ’em
now tell me who’s the vics and tell me who’s the victim

chorus [butterfly]

what is really what is really what is really what:
– if the funk don’t move your butt
– and if the box don’t make you hot
– and if the cats don’t dig the raps
– if your life ain’t got no spice
– or if the guns just wreck your fun
– or if some shouts ain’t in the house
– or if your crew ain’t down with you