Master Christopher - Bolden (feat. Sean Mason)

Stop, this is the blues
Wouldn't be Hip-hop drops
Without the blues
Wouldn't be
Rock or pop
Without the blues
Neither R&B
Folk or country
Soul or Queen B
This ain't new news
Don't confuse
From the dark hues
Jazz and blues grew
Side by side too
Preview what I have in store
The tambourine is here to
Help you clap on two and four
We'll start at the foyer
Then we'll hit the back door
Wake wake up I promise not to bore
When I tell you the lore
Get down to the core
From Collier
All the way to Big Four
I am proud of the new age
Jazz has turned into today
Pushing boundaries, moving mountains
Robert Glasper Leads the way
Marquis Hill, of course, Cecile
Kamasi and Jazzmeia's ill
Stefon will thrill
Mixing the beats with artistry
Reaching the streets and bringing heat
That's so sweet that Buddy Bolden
Shufflin his feet
But then, king Wynton
A legend in our midst
To leave him out we'd be remiss
The man hit's a solo, I swear he never miss
Jazz at Lincoln Center is teaching us the gist
Then there is Miles who fused the styles
Who changed the dials and paved the aisles
So Coltrane meanwhile dreams
A love supreme
Above esteem
In the sixties
Things were shifting
They fought 'gainst the regime
Avant-Garde was breaking the rules hard
Showing extreme thought
Yet they were free
No fear as a pioneer could see
Ornette Coleman was a real G
The music sounded out of key
Atonal was the way to be
Bop was coming at you fast
Dizzy's cheeks were rather vast
And he helped with Latin Jazz
Charlie Parker has amassed
A legacy that's unsurpassed
Technicality that lasts
Make you feel like trash
Catch Thelonius Monk though
Who would've thunk though
Such virtuosity
From a little combo
Lionel Hampton said
Come up off the tempo
We about to swing
Big bands were a big show
They were written by the kings
Whose suits were dripping Henderson too,
Check with Benny G and best believe
We following the Duke
Edward K
Took the A
We better pay
Respect to the great
The Goat all the way
Since we speaking of goats
We need to add a few notes
The man they also call Pops
Talkin Satchmo
Know he beast he knocked Ella off her feet
By singing cheek to cheek
With gravel in his speech
The man was scattin' and actin'
And rappin', and tappin'
And singing and swinging
His cornet playing portraying
King Oliver from
New Orleans if you can believe
We made it where it was conceived
Where you can achieve
What you can perceive
And marching bands hitting the streets
With African sounds and classical sounds
Caribbeans changing the beat
And dancers shaking and baking and caking
You know we ain't getting no sleep
Where everyone brought their share
You feeling it in the air
You living on French cuisine
Congo square but let me show you what I mean
Forgive me for not talking 'bout ragtime
Scott Joplin, Jelly Roll, but let me ask Sean
There was once a young man
Who had nothing but plans
He stirred our music in a pan
Mixing bands with a cornet in his hand
He created Big Four
Is what you hear on the floor
It's from the African shores
And gospel doors
With marching corps
His pops died at age six
His alcohol was a fix
Was diagnosed with the Schiz
And so his last days had vanished quick
Buddy Bolden's King
Of this new age with the 90s on his back
He's king of the fusion and those EDM tracks
He's king of the cool, and of course the MJQ
He's king of the mambo and the modal
And the hard boppin' too
He lead from the blues, where nobody knew
His sound or his views
But still swings Jazz sings
Bolden's King

Written by:
Chris Thompson

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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