I mean this was the school Methuselah useta play hookey from.
Freddie Slack and Ella Mae Morse were rappin' over swing beats long before Dr. Dre enrolled for pre-med; back before Snoop Dog was a pup. Ol’ Dirty wasn't even as a glint in Poppa Bastard’s eye. Pre-dating P. Diddy’s daddy: we’re talkin’ Grampa Diddy's day, swingers.
Well, what you say, baby? You look ready as Mr.Freddy this black. How ‘bout you and me goin’ spinnin’ at the track?
What’s that, homey? If you think I’m goin’ dancin’ on a dime your clock is tickin’ on the wrong time.
Well, what’s your pleasure, treasure? You call the plays, I’ll dig the ways.
Hey, Daddy O, I’m not so cool as to drop my mood on a square from way back. I’m in there and have to dig life with father. And I mean Father Slack.
Well, baby, your play gives my weight a solid flip. You snap the whip, I’ll make the trip.
Well, lace up your boots and we’ll groove on down, to a knocked down shack on the edge of town. There’s an eight piece combo that just won’t quit. Keep walkin’ till you see a blue light lit. Fall in there and we’ll see some sights at the house, the house, the House of Blue Lights.
We’ll have a time and we’ll cut some rug, while we dig those tunes like they should be dug.