Samba Soul - N.A.S.A., Sam i, Del The Funky Homosapien

It’s Del baby back again now

Shit gone change and it ain’t gone change

Wanna play games that’s out of your range

I got mad brains, I interpret things

Precisely pick 'em apart, my day start with art

Foul remarks are met with the tart

Attitude, that is rude boy, buddy embark on a journey

Boy, the tumble and dry keep turning

I be burning the midnight oils

Computer screens glaze while my ideas coil

I’m a Leo, I veto my ego

When I greet all my peoples I see through the evil

Can’t outfox this, I’m cautious with gob stoppers

Who pop they choppers, uh, uh

No go, I said so

You’re flaky like the outside bread on an egg roll

Diesel, the measles, you don’t wanna catch those

Slap foes, dap bros, welcome to the black hole

Let’s all act now unless you cracked out

My mouth spit math out, hope you don’t pass out

And we can do this with a bit of samba soul

I want y’all to really get with it, let it hit your in the soul

Can you dig it, can you dig, can you dig it?

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Out of sight, I knew you could

So let’s roll and get down with this soul

Diesel neither come back or flow back, know that

Cut off a limb this shit grow back

Slip it a kojak, blaze up a drosack

Just so I can get in the Bo black

Hoes that’s difficult

Just cause they weak inside, like speaking lies

I’ll ignore them, symptom of boredom

Whores come in dozens, plus they a dime a dozen

No time for fronting, better find em something

My motto is don’t be saying shit

You don’t be doing and you won’t be ruined

I don’t be fooling, I hope these useless gooses stop the foolishness

They’re excuses merely lead to my inclusive

Clairvoyance about a fear of enjoyment

Of hoes trying to snare 'em a billionaire boyfriend

My mind calisthenics is my whole motif, my flow go deep

Know those streets from the solo creep

Know those beats, so don’t sleep

That’s how you get taken unaware

Aching for a share, hating on a playa

Never wanna look toward, just sit there and look bored

And got the nerve to be materialistic

When knowledge ain’t nowhere on their wish list

And then they blow they whole goal

Don’t even recognize inside they own soul

And then they blow they whole goal

Don’t even recognize inside they own soul

D-E-L the man, you know he’ll rock it too

Whenever you hand him a microphone to use

He is down to business, you know that he don’t play

So just bear witness to that samba soul he display