Pease Porridge

My name, my name, my name is the Pasta
Now I like, I like I like to plug the real thing
So loose, so loose, so loose with the tap dance
The funk, the funk, funky funky stuff I bring
My tribe, my tribe, my tribe is known as Native Tongues
Consists, consists, consists of Jungle, Quest and others
Get played, get played, played a lot on radio
And also, and also, and also by some foul brothers
The Pease, the Pease the Pease Porridge never failed
It kept, it kept us calm, our stylin' merry
But late, but lately loonies acting real bold
Can't sip in luxury my apple cranberry
Girls watch, and watch, and watch I dance the big tut
Our home, our home our homeboys has to plan tricks
Don't real, don't real, don't realise the Native Tongue
Is rollin' strong and we're startin' in the megamix

Question, and that's if only I can ask this question
Can I? (Yes you can!)
Why do people think just because we speak peace
We can't blow no joints?
(I-I-I don't know)

Mase, this is the ninth day I've reheated this porridge, you know it
Keeps me peacefully, no?

Yeah, but my tolerance level has now peaked
And now it's time for some heads to get flown

We bring, we bring, we bring, we bring the peace of course
But pack a nine inside, inside my De La drawers
A picture, picture, picture, picture painted pink
Could turn to red, to red, to red in blooded quick
But in a single file my Native Tongue is calm
I'd rather, rather pass a brother a pound or palm
I kick, I kick, I kick a verse of unity
And shack, and shackle steps to the beat, beat
I click, I click the TV to the Simpsons
And sip the Porridge deep into my system
So mel, so mellow mode is my day mode
Inside the studio or on a road
The Shwing, the Shwingalo is the now step
It's murder if you bet cause you're life's jep
To praise, to praise the Soul is on a down drag
It's false, because I'll spray you with the Black Flag

(Pease Porridge in the pot)
(Pease Porridge in the pot)
(Pease Porridge in the pot)
(Nine days old)

Can't stand, can't stand, can't stand the pop music
Brother, brother, brothers pop a lot of pow
Don't watch, don't watch, don't watch a lot of basketball
Don't und, don't understand the act of being foul
Hey D, hey D, hey DJ set the record up
It's time, it's time, it's time to tame the naughty pups
Throw on the Touching Fingers serenade
So we can throw our lemonade
In their face and kick their little butts

People wanna get ragged with the reruns
Me not, me not, me not scared to trudge a bit
They can't, they can't, they can't get close to none
I tap, I tap, I tap a dance war skit
The por, the por, the Porridge got crazy cold
We won't, we won't eat until the heads are flown
Take advantage to a cool one's peaceful ways
But when, but when we fly that head all the people say

Here in Frogland, we always eat our Porridge, cause it keeps us frogs
Real peaceful like

In my land, my people adore Porridge and I don't understand why De La
Soul is so violent
And we are so peaceful, we sit by the camp fire and listen to our rituals, and
They are so violent. I don't understand
I don't understand

(Pease Porridge in the pot)
(Nine days old)

(Pease Porridge in the pot)
(Nine days old)

(Pease Porridge in the pot)