The Cosmic Cookout

Lyrics

[Intro – Talkbox] Attention, Earthlings! We interrupt your regularly scheduled reality… For a little deductive instability! Somebody call Bootsy! HA-HA! LET’S GO! [Verse 1] Started with a Frisbee flying over Tehran, Now I’m reading ancient scrolls with my Gucci shades on. Enoch in Ethiopia, Qumran in the sand, Twenty-four scientists got a five-year plan! Dee was in the mirror, Kelley looking through, Crowley heard a voice saying, “Here’s a book for you!” Parsons in the desert doing rituals at night, I just came to party, why’s the mothership in sight? [Pre-Chorus – Female Vocals] Ooh, baby, what you see? A little ancient mystery! Ooh, honey, what you know? Two thousand years in a five-minute flow! [CHORUS] Shake it for the Watchers! Bounce it for the scrolls! Everybody funky when the mothership rolls! Left foot Babylon, right foot Rome, If that ain’t Gabriel, tell him take his spaceship home! GET DOWN! GET DOWN! Ain’t no false messiah taking over this town! GET LOW! GET LOW! Foggy little memory with a supernatural flow! [Verse 2] Moroni had the plates, Aiwass had the script, Farrakhan said, “Hold up, man, I took a little trip!” Bailey got a hierarchy, Blavatsky got Masters, Everybody got a message saying change is coming faster! I ain’t buying every story just because it came with lights, Paul said test the spirits, better get your Gospel right. Angel wearing Prada with a halo made of gold, If he changes up the message, tell that brother HE BEEN TOLD! [Bridge – Bass Breakdown] Bomp! Bomp! Slap that bass! Got a thousand-year mystery all over the place! Tick-tock, cosmic clock, Who let the giants out the archaeological rock? [Verse 3 – Double-Time Rap] Got the Watchers in the footnotes, giants in the text, Every time I turn a page, man, what the heck is next? Ancient calculations, celestial revelations, Everybody claiming they’re the next administration! But the King don’t need a spaceship, Don’t need no disguise, Don’t need a secret handshake Or a saucer in the skies! [Verse 4 – The Cosmic Cookout] Joseph got a vision, Muhammad heard a call, John Dee had some angels writing letters on the wall. Enoch saw the heavens, giants dreaming of their fate, I’m just in the kitchen putting funk upon my plate! Babalon was working, Horus got an age, Everybody got a prophecy, everybody got a stage. Twenty-four scientists, celestial machinery, I’m just tryna figure out who’s running all this scenery! Got my Bible on the dashboard, rhythm in my shoes, A little revelation mixed with interstellar blues. If the mothership comes knocking, tell ’em bring a funky beat, We can talk about the cosmos while the ladies move their feet! No fear in the rhythm, no panic in the soul, Got a little common sense and an ancient dusty scroll. Two thousand years of questions, still dancing through the night, If Bootsy’s driving that spaceship— WE GON’ BE ALRIGHT! [Final Chorus – Female Choir] MOTHERSHIP! SHAKE THOSE HIPS! Two thousand years on a five-minute trip! BABYLON! MOVE ALONG! Bootsy got the bass and we’re bringing it home! [Outro – Spoken] All this… From a Frisbee? Man, I need to start writing stuff down. Nah. Foggy memory works just fine. CAPISCE?! 🛸