What Cool Breezes Do Lyrics - Reachin' (a New Refutation Of Time And Space) - Digable Planets

You gotta do what ya feel 

Do what ya feel 

If it's real 

Exit planet Venus for a Brooklyn stroll 

Jazzy fly, nappy things, plaits, to a roll 

Leaves fumble fallin' down; wind blowin' 'round 

Dig the layer change, the funkifying sound 

Mecca, the Ladybug, changin' like seasons 

Moves I be seein', changes life's reasons 

On to express the ways that I profess the 

Swoon unit glow, as I go; Butter flow 

I take a chance, go against the norm 

But they used to make advance to my lady form 

Ok, shall I smack a ghetto punk with the line? (but, Mecca) 

Ok, slap a meadow punk with a fine 

I flip this only to the ones who lack respect 

The rest, just get your ticket pronto and jet, but please 

You gotta do what ya feel 

Do what ya feel 

If it's real 

Check out the funk-brown bass, my man 

This be the medium used by Dig Plans 

Hit the cosmics like a funkonaut 

Leave the ladybugs with forget-Funk-nots 

Black sunflowers, blue be your tulip 

The sound from the gates, it'll zoom up your room 

Bugs block spots where Hip Hop be your norm 

If the Pri is the Kid, the floor's gettin' stormed 

With the bass in ya face, space is the place 

Bugs take a stand, goddamn, it's a jam 

C-note be no uncivilized just 

Poppin' out the jive in the jazz-causin' rush 

Can you dig it? My mellow, it's that cool cat sound 

(Doodlebug, Japrim told that the G be gettin' down) 

Shit, it's mandatory, so you gots to demand it 

And if they cannot handle, take a ticket from the Planets and 

You gotta do what ya feel 

Do what ya feel 

If it's real 

Man, I ooze that, in the mad degrees 

With my crew and shit, honey dip, cool breeze 

Can you dig it? (I'm with it) (Butter, now you know) 

I know the wig gets the grade out 

It's fat or else we'd be out 

Copped the rap bats from these cats out on Bleeker 

Rejuvenate the plates for my people and they speakers 

Nietzsche, Rap, make Anita crutch 

Planets wouldn't allow themselves to grow like such 

Expressions, sightings, scripting, taught 

Finest status quo is being an artist in New York 

Tongues be often fought, clothes be often caught 

If they call it a fad, we just ignore it, like it's pork 

Planets got them thoughts bloomin' flowers in the dense 

They said that Rap was Venus, so we snuck and hopped the fence 

Landed in a meadow, glimpsed and saw a shadow 

Of brothers with guitars, common sense and puffy afros 

Lucks was getting brazed, Paps was getting blazed 

Feds was crackin' domes, but these cats, they wasn't phased 

In tights grips, yet, their lips was talkin' fun 

Rhythms and the struggle kinda funneled into one 

True funk cannot disguise, because the streets have eyes 

Who's gonna revive? Well us and delic vibe 

Did it like a Dig Planet, goddammit 

To get a good kick it, suggest ya get ya ticket and 

You gotta do what ya feel 

Do what ya feel 

If it's real