Listen to The JB's Tribute Pastor P (feat. Daru Jones, Harry Mack, Clyde Stubblefield, Fred Wesley & John Starks) by Bootsy Collins

The JB's Tribute Pastor P (feat. Daru Jones, Harry Mack, Clyde Stubblefield, Fred Wesley & John Starks)

Bootsy Collins

Funk

2,767

Apple Music Note

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Bootsy Collins

Vocals

Daru Jones

Drums

Harry Mack

Rap

Clyde Stubblefield

Clyde Stubblefield

Performer

Fred Wesley

Horn

John Starks

Performer

Ella Feingold

Guitar

Tobe Donohue

Background Vocals

Milkshake Mayfield

Milkshake Mayfield

Trumpet

Kenneth Faison

Tenor Saxophone

Mike Phillips

Alto Saxophone

Christopher King

Christopher King

Alto Saxophone

Kenneth R Pack

Saxophone

Ezekiel Johnson

Ezekiel Johnson

Trombone

Tiffany Calandra Johns

Tiffany Calandra Johns

Horn Section

Pepperminte Patti

Pepperminte Patti

Background Vocals

Antony Duke Pearson

Antony Duke Pearson

Trumpet

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Daru Jones

Composer

Harry Mack

Composer

Clyde Stubblefield

Clyde Stubblefield

Composer

Fred Wesley

Composer

John Starks

Composer

William Earl Collins

William Earl Collins

Composer

Ella Feingold

Composer

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

Bootsy Collins

Producer

Bedroom Bootsy

Producer

Tobe Donohue

Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Hum

C'mon, ay, yeah, ah

C'mon, yuh, one, two, one, two

Listen, ah, yeah, c'mon, ay

Look, one, two, one, two

C'mon, ah, yeah

C'mon, ay, look, one, two, one, two

C'mon, yeah, listen, ah

C'mon, ay, look

C'mon

I said I feel good and I knew that I would

I spit facts on these records make the truth understood

Overheat my speech leaks fumes out the hood

Of your vehicle, my free flow unbelievable

I'm makin' speakers blow out the trunk of your Hummer

My name bubbles like kids having fun in the summer, ah

I bring the thunder tearing punks asunder

'Cause they sample my flow more times than The Funky Drummer

Smooth like knives through butter, did I stutter? I'm ill

Rhythm like I'm Clyde Stubblefield

On Mother Popcorn thoughts storm

Out my mental in top form, I'm sorry you were not warned

Respected from the rookies to the old vets

Competitors are steppin' with their bold threats

Better under pressure you ain't never seen before yet

Got you breakin' out in a Cold Sweat

Speakin' through ghost notes and rimshots

The flow's dope, I've been hot

And I don't need to showboat with no gold rope or wristwatch

I climb higher than oak growth, I'm at the tip-top

Aw, snap, we really back at this

Bootsy on the bass y'all, we bringin' that fatness

Fantastic when Mack flips the rap scripts

Funkiest guitar scratches from Catfish

You know you couldn't match this, I strike with flames

Guaranteed to ignite your brain

With this music I'm a student of the best

If I spew it, then it's fresh

Why pursue it unless you Doin' It To Death?

I'm sayin' yo, I really kill it in the zone

T. S. hella lit, I'm brilliant with the poems

Feelin' like I'm one in nine billion and it's known

I slide like Fred Wesley, you can feel it in your bones

Said I'm always cold, way cooler than the A/C

Don't make me spell it out for you, it's The J.B.'s

When I jot bars, every jam bumps

Jungle breaks get you higher than joints, blunts

And bongs, I break it down like weed chunks

Peep the deep slump, beats bumpin' from P-Funk

Music that ain't got no heart, that thought's so dark

My raw flow sparks like Jabo Starks off top, throw darts

In the cypher freestylin', I don't use a pad

Same mindset the Buddha had, Super Bad

The music mad groovy, dad duty

'Cause Papa's Got a Brand New Bag of rap rubies

Look, we give it up and turn it loose

Celebrity legend livin' plush and earnin' loot

My style is unruly, it's truly crazy

H-Mack, official collab with Bootsy, baby

Let's go (now these are the J.B.'s)

C'mon (oh Harry Mack, you punch a pack dude!)

Y'all know what it is man, Harry Mack

Bootsy playin' that funk, c'mon, let's go

(Blow Fred!)

Pass the 'P' like it used to be

Pass the 'P'

Pass the 'P' like it used to be

Pass the 'P'

Yeah, c'mon

Yuh, one two, one two, listen

Yeah, c'mon, ah

Look, one two, one two, c'mon

Yeah, c'mon, ah

Look, one two, one two, c'mon, yeah

Listen, one two, one two, c'mon

Hit me now!

You know I like it

Put in the pocket

I won't lock it, baby

I ain' t no scrub

Pass the 'P' (Fred!)

Clyde, Jabo, c'mon get down

Now these are the J.B.'s

Get funky, get funky

Get funky, get funky

Jab, hit me now!

Pass the 'P' like it used to be

Pass the 'P' (everybody!)

Pass the 'P' like it used to be

Pass the 'P' (pass the 'P'!)

Pass the 'P' like it used to be

Pass the 'P' (c'mon!)

Pass the 'P' like it used to be

Catfish, Clyde, Jabo from Alabama, baby (yeah, one two, one two)

And we have Fred Wesley (listen, one two, one two)

And these are the J.B.'s

Written by: Clyde Stubblefield, Daru Jones, Ella Feingold, Fred Wesley, Harry Mack, John Starks, William Earl Collins

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