Song Description

Smooth Original Philly HipPop

Lyrics

The sky was black, the moon was high, Down the drive, old City early July. The hours slippin, passin like water Drippin, what were- Time, an echo in the breath of a city Fix yourself again- you?re lookin more N more pretty. And the streets are lit but secret, Tell another to yourself but who?s, gunna keep it? The moon was high and satchels heavy, Steppin it up, parched for the leavy. Medium decent, found around a dwelling What, who?s telling- On, a nutty soul in the city Founder, solo, throw down committee. But to beat that heat, out, out, out just steady, Rollin, rollin, up in the leavy- Rollin up in the leavy. With the fever that first eyed the apple, Tempted we tasted and knew, When they?re ripe for the picking- It?s we who? Crop with command, Boys be ready to lose. You?re beggin for love- But it?s we who choose. In a crowded spot absorb a cocktail Consult a clock, an asthmatic exhale. You?re fallin for fantasy you might say And they- Shine, with arms and necks like candy, Solicit with it, ooh and see, That around my way there are three or four- Staggering, but I?ve been here before. I?ve seen em here before? The slightest brush yields attention aplenty Extra-mortals, who sent me, To be a moon on water is to be unsure- So maxin out, the temperature and I Slide, and echo a zone without comfort Warming, to weave, a web of sorts. I?m sweatin, my cocktail get wetter and wetter- Maybe Momma shoulda taught me better? With the fever that first eyed the apple, Tempted we tasted and knew, When they?re ripe for the picking- It?s we who? Crop with command, Boys be ready to lose. You?re beggin for love- But it?s we who choose. With the fever that first? Could fate make a comeback? Scattering out more clues- Whose enthusiastic culture, Is who?s we? Don?t bate with something, You?re not, really, willing to lose. How it?d be humble, Had it not been there to abuse? I won?t sell you something Maybe, baby, you can?t use. But as our shares are splitting- It?s we who? Crop with command, Boys be ready to lose. You?re beggin for love- But it?s we who choose. So when the hour is late and the moon is high and you?re down, Philly, early July- You?re sharrin the heat So this you?ll know- Take it slow? Lyrics by Heather G, Copyright © 2003