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Excursions (Feat. The Last Poets)

Back in the days when I was a teenager

Before I had status and before I had a pager

You could find the Abstract listening to hip hop

My pops used to say, it reminded him of be-bop

I said, well daddy don't you know that things go in cycles

The way that Bobby Brown is just ampin' like Michael

Its all expected, things are for the looking

If you got the money, Quest is for the booking

Come on everybody, let's get with the fly modes

Still got room on the truck, load the back boom

Listen to the rhymes, to get a mental picture

Of this black man, black woman venture

Why do I say that, 'cause I gotta speak the truth man

Doing what we feel for the music is the proof and

Planted on the ground, the act is so together

Bonafied strong, you need leverage to sever

The unit, yes, the unit, yes, the unit called the jazz is

We deliver it each year on the street for the beat 'cause

You can find it on the rack in your record store(store)

If you get the record, then your thoughts are adored and appreciated

Cause we're ever so glad we made it

We work hard, so we gotta thank God

Dishing out the plastic, do the dance till you spastic

If you dis, it gets drastic

Listen to the rhymes, 'cause its time to make gravy

If it moves your booty, then shake, shake it baby

All the way to Africa a.k.a. The Motherland (uh)

Stick out the left, then I'll ask for the other hand

That's the right hand, Black Man (man)

Only if you was noted as my man (man)

If I get the credit, then I'll think I deserve it

If you fake moves, don't fix your mouth to word it

Get in the zone of positivity, not negativity

'cause we gotta strive for longevity

If you botch up, what's in that (ass) (what?)

A pair of Nikes, size ten-and-a-half (come on, come on)We gotta make moves

Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)

We gotta make moves

Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)

We gotta make moves

Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)

We gotta make moves

Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)You gotta be a winner all the time

Can't fall prey to a hip hop crime

With the dope raps and dope tracks for you for blocks

From the fly girlies to the hardest of the rocks

Musically the Quest, is on the rise

We on these Excursions so you must realize

Hip hop continually, about the Zulu

If you don't like it, get off the Zulu tip

So what could you do in the times which exist

You can't fake moves on your brother or your sis

But if your sis is a (bitch), brother is a jerk

Leave 'em both alone and continue with your work

Whatever it may be into this society

Everything is fair, at least that how it seems to me

You must be honest and true to the next

Don't be phony and expect one not to flex

Especially if you rhyme, you have to live by the pen

Your man is your man, then treat him like your friend

All it is, is the code of the streets

So listen to the knowledge being dropped over beats

Beats that are hard, beats that are funky

It could get you hooked like a crackhead junkie

What you gotta do to is know that the Tribe's in this sphere

The Abstract Poet, prominent like ShakespeareWe gotta make moves

Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)We gotta make moves

Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)We gotta make moves

Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)We gotta make moves

Never, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)

Songwriters

ALI SHAHEED JONES-MUHAMMAD, MALIK IZAAK TAYLOR, KAMAAL IBN JOHN FAREEDPublished by

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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