1-2-3-4u by Us3
Live from the New York underground but I�m now London-
bound
I come to town to light up the mic once the flight
touches down
But it�s not just me it�s Us3 so it must be funky trust
me
Fingers still dusty from digging in the crates for jazz
breaks
Master tapes or acetates
Low fi so I use a high sample rate to compensate
Pure bass not from concentrate
Now you wanna taste so you salivate
Just grab a plate and dig in
We�re dishing food for thought from the soul kitchen
No chicken but the drumsticks are hitting the spot
Gotcha licking your chops
Don�t bite cos it�s sizzling hot
See we�re mixing a pot of gumbo
Funk, soul, with some hip hop and a little drop of jazz
on top
Just add some rock some be-bop ah scooby doo
Guess what Europe, we love you too
And it�s just for you
Come on every 1
Who you�re listening 2
Us3 the crew
Playing just 4 you
Way down in the concrete jungle of Harlem
There was a young man on the road to stardom
He had many raps and it wasn�t a problem
To rock shows in winter, spring, summer and autumn
Now I don�t like dissing people like most do
I�d rather speak freely on the struggles we go through
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