HOO-RAW, welcome to THE SHELL (the blueturtle’s patented FUNK BUNKER)
coming at you live, live LIVE from the darkest part of LEEDS (brap brap)
let’s kick off the morning with the smooth soulful POETRY of mr gil scot heron - if you’re not angry you’re not paying attention - if you’re not dancing you’re not LISTENING
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mmmm creamy, but wait, what’s that, is it a bird, a plane, it looks like a flying…LOTUS
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let the cool flava halo your brain, don’t run from this moment you sexy motherfucker:
but mr turtle sir, how can i groove in a time of social crisis?
shut up, i will show you, you will learn:
for all you arrested adolescents out there
well now, looks like you’re walking home alone at night, a little rain on your bonce, you need the soul of
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things are getting spooky, these walls be closing in fam, need some spooky funk PRONTO (spunk if you will)
war in 94, you say? old skool jungle, you cry?
let’s bring it down a little, in honour of the sun and the recent eclipse
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after we smash the system your money WON’T MEAN A THANG
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he’s tried but he’s never bettered this shit:
when lacking a plan, i look to THE CLAN, and they’re telling me to…
gee grandpa i don’t think there’s no way can i make it…
why the fuck not, we’re nearly finished and we all love tricky’s flow
don’t touch that dial, we are live, live LIVE
“but this doesn’t fit with the playli–”
“shut the FUNK UP”