LETRA 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) fuente: musica.com