Make the vocal the focal point.
In the background, the sound of jazz.
Hip-hop is born; Be-bop, old hat,
And that yackety sax is torn
From the track, replaced by pure
Mellow tones, that endure, not drone.
Say hello; cherish what you own.
Perish the thought of losing it.
Fusing the muse, refuse the shit.
Keep the spirit of jazz alive;
Allow it to survive. Dig deep,
And an urge will emerge within;
A temptation to commit; not a sin;
A creation; make it fit
The lifestyles; the attitudes,
The moods of the word on the street.
Have you heard the beat that exudes
From every pore, when you play
From the core? Pay your due respect,
And reflect your true sense of pride.
Don’t drop behind and hide your love
Of what you hold above all else.
Ring the bells; shout out loud, state it clear.
Never fear, just be proud of your thing