Far down the sea there's a king traveling
starfish glows for the king: "this way, my lord"
deep on the sea, oh the king sees the queen
heading close to the queen: "we made it, my dear"

Oh the prince's coming in, calling queen and the king
sun shines through, warm water and blue
Now wait out a second, there's something coming in
king and queen disappear, my prince stays here

It's a tuna or a cod, a submarine how odd
I'll wait out there, see if they care
A ship with a man, seahorse jumping out of sand
steaming fast as a dream, you stay here my prince

Oh i'll swam through the sea, past that big funny machine
i love that game, now catch me if you can

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 ?