In Funk we Trust (Groove is Law)

In an episode of Whose Line is it Anyway, there was a game that involved the Emir of Groove-Funkistan. I took that idea and turned it into this song. Check out my Funk/Groove Playlist!    • Funk/Groove   1970s P-Funk, Psychedelic Soul, Orchestral Funk, Groove. Lyrics: Citizens of the Rhythm. Adjust your spectacles. The Sultan has ascended. And the Law... is absolute. [Verse 1] From the velvet dunes of the Purple Sea To the neon spires of the Galaxy He sits on a throne of gilded bone With a leopard cape and a heart of stone— Well, heart of chrome, baby, feel the shine A royal vintage, a rhythmic wine. The staff is raised, the mirror turns The incense of the deep-bass burns. [Chorus] In Funk We Trust, in Groove We Rule The Sultan’s court is the rhythm school. Purple silk and a leopard trim Every soul belongs to him. The bass is thick, the brass is raw Heed the medallion: Groove is Law! [Verse 2] Behold the guard in the star-rimmed shades Polishing silver and golden blades— Of the trombone slide and the four-string snap Caught in the snare of the Sultan’s trap. The gold-leaf boots hit the marble floor A heavy step that you can’t ignore. No crown of gold, just a feathered crest The high-priest of the funk-manifest. [Bridge: The music drops to a sparse, driving percussion] Keep your eyes on the disco orb Let the frequency absorb. Kept in the sway of the golden gaze Lost in the velvet, purple haze. He speaks! [Spoken Word, Authoritative Deep Baritone, Dry Mix, No Reverb] Let the pocket be deep. Let the backbeat be stank. There is no currency here but the swank. [Chorus] In Funk We Trust, in Groove We Rule The Sultan’s court is the rhythm school. Purple silk and a leopard trim Every soul belongs to him. The bass is thick, the brass is raw Heed the medallion: Groove is Law! [Outro] Groove is Law. Groove-Funkistan forever.