The Lavishments of Light Looking - Woke, George Clinton

And somewhere in the back of your mind

You answer yourself

As it is, so be it

If being is what it’s about, I is

Maximum isness

It’s my touch

When I arrive, it’s like a slice up on the set

Lavished in honeys, but there’s always more to get

I’m a conveyor, connoisseur, it’s how I fare

The narrow-minded central label, this is flair

A fact is flare, plenty flavors, many layers

The anti-square, many laying in my lair

I’m from the race with the thief and the bass

We’re from the stars, whipping cars, spitting bars

Dipping stars, never lost, getting ours

And proving you was due to win

A room for you to do it in

A group for you to do it in

Dipping stars, never lost, getting house

And proving you was due to win

A room for you to do it in

Tonight, get it in is a true to sin

So don your gems, the night’s about to bend your way

A dance song, dance off

Something you could put your hands on

It’s bomb, that which is bomb never lasts long

It’s my touch

Why you sitting there?

All I want to do is see you dance, girl

Clap your hands

I don’t even want your loving

I just want to see your hands

(Hold them up)

All these niggas in the room

Standing with their hands up

Don’t know the propaganda

Somebody better come over

Tell this bitch-ass niggas to bounce

Getting stars, getting ours

And proving you was due to win

I got a room for you to do it in

A group for you to do it in

From the stars, getting bars

And proving you was due to win

I got a room for you to do it in

A group for you to do it in

Running around the center of a square

Sitting in the corner of a circle

You can see it in your eyes

You don’t have to lie

Want to take a ride

As long as we can fly