| 作词 : Franti | |
| Every woman every man wanna move dem feet | |
| Every woman every man love a spearhead beat! | |
| Police in the city | |
| Is shuttin all the clubs down | |
| It's lookin like a ghost town | |
| Ya know mary- what we gotta do? | |
| Hell yeah! | |
| We gotta go underground' | |
| To da place -from which we all came from | |
| House parties-they was always fun | |
| Remember tryin to rig a sound system | |
| Everybody- would bring a donation | |
| When we needed- to get a turn table | |
| My man zulu | |
| Would borrow one from aunt mable | |
| Set it up in the corner- | |
| Turn the lights down until the mornin' | |
| (chorus) | |
| But the party ain't started till the speaker's blown | |
| No! no! no! | |
| Run fa ya life! | |
| The party ain't started 'till the speaker's blown | |
| While he was settin up camp | |
| Someone else would bring a home stereo amp | |
| With a note from they mama- | |
| 'don't turn it up loud or it's a goner' | |
| Sorry mama- there's no chance | |
| Cause if the shit ain't bumpin' | |
| People ain't gonna dance | |
| 'know what i'm sayin'' ('turn that shit up') | |
| Everybody in the place would bring a few speakers | |
| String em all togetha like they was sneakers | |
| And say a prayer- before we turn it on | |
| Hopin that the amp- wouldn't get blown. | |
| I asked mary watcha think of it | |
| 'now we need a d.j. to work this shit' | |
| So everybody- would bring a few singles- get | |
| The beat bumpin | |
| And then start to mingle | |
| (chorus) | |
| Every woman every man wanna move dem feet | |
| Every woman every man love a spearhead beat! | |
| Every brother and every sister | |
| Would pay respect up to the ancestors | |
| We would dance and we would celebrate | |
| Even though we live in a police state | |
| Then the pigs- would try to make a statement | |
| With a ticket- for noise abatement | |
| But we kept it pumpin' -till the braekadawn | |
| Then we told the cops | |
| They gotta break the door down | |
| And today -across the nation- don't ya know | |
| It's the same situation | |
| Alotta cities lookin like a ghost town | |
| But the house party will never be shut down | |
| No no no! | |
| (chorus) | |
| Every woman every man wanna move dem feet | |
| Every woman every man love a spearhead beat! | |
| (repeat) | |
| This one's dedicated to all the dj's, rappers, | |
| Promoters, producers who continue to throw | |
| Jams in the face of adversity. peace | |
| Peace to the informal nation. word up! |
| zuo ci : Franti | |
| Every woman every man wanna move dem feet | |
| Every woman every man love a spearhead beat! | |
| Police in the city | |
| Is shuttin all the clubs down | |
| It' s lookin like a ghost town | |
| Ya know mary what we gotta do? | |
| Hell yeah! | |
| We gotta go underground' | |
| To da place from which we all came from | |
| House partiesthey was always fun | |
| Remember tryin to rig a sound system | |
| Everybody would bring a donation | |
| When we needed to get a turn table | |
| My man zulu | |
| Would borrow one from aunt mable | |
| Set it up in the corner | |
| Turn the lights down until the mornin' | |
| chorus | |
| But the party ain' t started till the speaker' s blown | |
| No! no! no! | |
| Run fa ya life! | |
| The party ain' t started ' till the speaker' s blown | |
| While he was settin up camp | |
| Someone else would bring a home stereo amp | |
| With a note from they mama | |
| ' don' t turn it up loud or it' s a goner' | |
| Sorry mama there' s no chance | |
| Cause if the shit ain' t bumpin' | |
| People ain' t gonna dance | |
| ' know what i' m sayin'' ' turn that shit up' | |
| Everybody in the place would bring a few speakers | |
| String em all togetha like they was sneakers | |
| And say a prayer before we turn it on | |
| Hopin that the amp wouldn' t get blown. | |
| I asked mary watcha think of it | |
| ' now we need a d. j. to work this shit' | |
| So everybody would bring a few singles get | |
| The beat bumpin | |
| And then start to mingle | |
| chorus | |
| Every woman every man wanna move dem feet | |
| Every woman every man love a spearhead beat! | |
| Every brother and every sister | |
| Would pay respect up to the ancestors | |
| We would dance and we would celebrate | |
| Even though we live in a police state | |
| Then the pigs would try to make a statement | |
| With a ticket for noise abatement | |
| But we kept it pumpin' till the braekadawn | |
| Then we told the cops | |
| They gotta break the door down | |
| And today across the nation don' t ya know | |
| It' s the same situation | |
| Alotta cities lookin like a ghost town | |
| But the house party will never be shut down | |
| No no no! | |
| chorus | |
| Every woman every man wanna move dem feet | |
| Every woman every man love a spearhead beat! | |
| repeat | |
| This one' s dedicated to all the dj' s, rappers, | |
| Promoters, producers who continue to throw | |
| Jams in the face of adversity. peace | |
| Peace to the informal nation. word up! |
| zuò cí : Franti | |
| Every woman every man wanna move dem feet | |
| Every woman every man love a spearhead beat! | |
| Police in the city | |
| Is shuttin all the clubs down | |
| It' s lookin like a ghost town | |
| Ya know mary what we gotta do? | |
| Hell yeah! | |
| We gotta go underground' | |
| To da place from which we all came from | |
| House partiesthey was always fun | |
| Remember tryin to rig a sound system | |
| Everybody would bring a donation | |
| When we needed to get a turn table | |
| My man zulu | |
| Would borrow one from aunt mable | |
| Set it up in the corner | |
| Turn the lights down until the mornin' | |
| chorus | |
| But the party ain' t started till the speaker' s blown | |
| No! no! no! | |
| Run fa ya life! | |
| The party ain' t started ' till the speaker' s blown | |
| While he was settin up camp | |
| Someone else would bring a home stereo amp | |
| With a note from they mama | |
| ' don' t turn it up loud or it' s a goner' | |
| Sorry mama there' s no chance | |
| Cause if the shit ain' t bumpin' | |
| People ain' t gonna dance | |
| ' know what i' m sayin'' ' turn that shit up' | |
| Everybody in the place would bring a few speakers | |
| String em all togetha like they was sneakers | |
| And say a prayer before we turn it on | |
| Hopin that the amp wouldn' t get blown. | |
| I asked mary watcha think of it | |
| ' now we need a d. j. to work this shit' | |
| So everybody would bring a few singles get | |
| The beat bumpin | |
| And then start to mingle | |
| chorus | |
| Every woman every man wanna move dem feet | |
| Every woman every man love a spearhead beat! | |
| Every brother and every sister | |
| Would pay respect up to the ancestors | |
| We would dance and we would celebrate | |
| Even though we live in a police state | |
| Then the pigs would try to make a statement | |
| With a ticket for noise abatement | |
| But we kept it pumpin' till the braekadawn | |
| Then we told the cops | |
| They gotta break the door down | |
| And today across the nation don' t ya know | |
| It' s the same situation | |
| Alotta cities lookin like a ghost town | |
| But the house party will never be shut down | |
| No no no! | |
| chorus | |
| Every woman every man wanna move dem feet | |
| Every woman every man love a spearhead beat! | |
| repeat | |
| This one' s dedicated to all the dj' s, rappers, | |
| Promoters, producers who continue to throw | |
| Jams in the face of adversity. peace | |
| Peace to the informal nation. word up! |
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