THE LIGHT
Lyrics
by Mattic Parks and Astrid Engberg. Music by Oogo.

Fantastic (multiple repeat throughout song)
Oogo Oogo
Fantastic
Chomsky

I be on the planet I be rocking that shit
I be on the planet I be making them hits

MR. FANTASTIC

III beats from the words I speak
It's the light from the uh…uh uh

Banka
Wax Tailor
Mr Gib
Mr Fantastic

I be on the Planet I be rocking them beats
We be on the planet we be making that heat
We be on the planet and the style is unique

Our shit is big ocean and your shit is a creek
On your territory I'm ah take ah leak
let it all out
Top high
like Mt. Everest to the peak
for you mountain climbers we be on the planet

Yea baby come and give me kiss on he cheek
That is the style from beneath
Underground, Underground from the PLANET

How That Sound

Lyrics by Mattic & Beat by Chomsky

So now you to the point that you done seen some shit and you can't get it out of your mind you get sick.
Folk tales to pick or street stories, cause rhyming bout yourself eventually turns boring.
I remember the night like it was morning
Kat out of line, the vision rewinds
He was trying to be about it like most rappers today, but around 3:30 the ground he laid.

And his eye's seen the black of the night like gun fights
Now ah days, that's how they play
Trying to impress a woman that ain't part of my world
Grab the wrong one straight by arm, gave her a twirl

She gave a shook look and then a right hook.
Drink crashed the floor, he like this whore.
Got the nerve to touch my face without giving a taste
now in the corner, I heard another glass bottle break.

Glass started to spread like people in the crowd
It was quite for a second, but dude was getting fowl.
Guess it had to be her boyfriend hiding his hands and step to him.
Some people in the background said to him.

They talk for a few, and before I knew
the brother from the corner pulled hands out and smacked dude.
He pause for a minute and said this kat is finish
Snatched out the gun, while homeboy run'ed.

I was like Dam
Son lets break out and shake out.
Running back patterns as bullets they start unraveling
outside one through the chest just like a javelin.
Thick blood in the soil like Havoline oil.

The kid laid in soil, half paralyzed
Fronting in clubs unorganized
Get euthanized like canines in Dog pounds.
20 years old and bowed up in the ground.

(chorus)
Now how that sound
When you get knocked Down
How that sound
When they let go rounds
From your country all the way to uptown
You might get found, man How that Sound ?