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Jazz
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Grits
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Jazz is the substance and base Of manifestation of Grits for Nubian taste The voice of the horn cries for freedom of imprisonment Releasing the soul from the shackles of environment The bass is like the blood in your veins Pumping breath to your organs so life can maintain Of course we need the skins to keep the timin' Like your heart plays the part of keepin' everything in line Like brain waves the keys sound signals in spurts and harmony Where would you be without the melody The vocalist in this quartet is the Spirit Or better yet the Son of Man So there you have it broken down anatomically Grits illustrated for the ones that doubt Cause the heart is expressed in the music and always has This is what I think about Jazz Jazz is the mother and Hip Hop's the child She died and revived now her child's runnin' wild Grits is the tool and Hip Hop's the Nation Sent to teach those of Truth and Creation Jazz is the mother and Hip Hop's the child She died and revived now her child's runnin' wild Grits is the tool and Hip Hop's the Nation Sent to teach those of Truth and Creation
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