Yeah, man, yeah, yeah, yeah, whoo!
You didn't plan to bamf, you stepped in to see the fire,
A cold air hanging on the street, then the kick drum hit your feet.
You said, I'll just stay one song, but that bass proved you wrong.
While guitar started to slide, now you're moving side to side.
You can try to play it cool, lean against the wall like a fool,
But when that pocket lock's untied, your body's choosing for you tonight.
The groove finds you, before you find it,
Pulls you in, right behind it.
Old school funk in DaLat town, bum rolling while we throw down,
You didn't choose the track, the track chose you back.
saxophone solo
Sacrifice screaming bold, keys dripping liquid gold,
Drummer sweating, steady grin, whole room breathing in sync.
Friends laughing, glasses high, someone shouting, don't be shy.
If you're stiff, give it time, that rhythm's crossing every line.
No invitation, no excuse, just let your shoulders loose and lose.
When the snare hits sharp and flat, you're officially part of that.
The groove finds you, wraps around you,
Moves your feet, then surrounds you.
Raw old school thick and fat, echo bouncing through DaLat.
From the first drum crack, you ain't stepping back.
Mountain night, don't always roll,
But tonight, we're shaking the floor, fog outside.
Breathe with me, let the funk crawl under your skin.
saxophone solo
The groove finds you, owns the room,
Bassline rising like a moon.
When the last note fades to black and you're begging for a track,
You'll smile and say that's that.
Funk did that in DaLat.