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Just Buggin’ (Nothing Serious), Whistle

Sunday, 09. 7. 2008  –  Category: Music

Catching up on some of my snowboard blog RSS feeds, and was reading Kat’s playlist and saw this absolute classic.

Can’t believe this was out in 1985 – I would have been 6 or 7 years old, but still remember most of the words.

We’re called Whistle and this is true
We love to do the things that we’re not supposed to do
We don’t mean robbin’, stealin’ or muggin’
In fact we’ll take it seriously, we’re only buggin’

That was fresh
That was fresh
That was fresh
That, that, that, that was fresh

Party peoples in the place, we want you all to see
That we can be taken seriously
But if you don’t believe that then forget you all
‘Cause we’re gonna party-arty and have a ball

‘Cause we’re here to prove true bugged out means
That things aren’t always what they seem
We want you all to scream and start to shout
As we go on a mission and bug on out

We’re called Whistle and this is true
We love to do the things that we’re not supposed to do
We don’t mean robbin’, stealin’ or muggin’
In fact we’ll take it seriously, we’re only buggin’

Well, it’s all about us, Jazz and K.D.
But sometimes it’s all about just me
You know what I noticed all of a sudden
When I speak people just be a muffin

There’s not another person who sounds like me
And who could it be, there will never be
I say a tongue give it like a blink of the eye
Say it so well, you will think it’s a lie

Like Peter Potter picked up his gold pen
Put in on the backsail that would soon be his friend
This plot deployed up a loony park
Persistal to behave it so to ply it plank plunk

My problem with fletchin’ fletch people who flee
Is playin’ the proper pot without a pitcharee
And my present plate who desorates my plea
So I’m the perfect pacemaker perputrader trades me

Tell me, girl, now is it true
That you love for me just to talk to you?
For you to be my girl and I’ll be your man
You’ll be mine, not just another fan

You’d be with me everywhere I go
You’ll hold my hand at every show
Inseparable is what we’d be
Jazz in, jazz in eternally

But after all of this, you know your dream will end
I wouldn’t talk to you, I’d talk to your friend
And you would call me conceited and you’d call me wrong
But you’d call me that night and try to turn me on

You dial my digits in the day and in the night
Promise you, swear that you’ll do me right
But I doubt that anything that you’d do
Would ever gimme the stomach to talk to you

Now I’m buggin’

Some DJ’s go in order to impress
But DJ’s simply spinning is (Really fresh)
We got trisle, a sleeve and if that isn’t enough
Grab a rock’n'roll city, take out this (Fuff)

When the place gets hot and the air gets thinner
The modulator overtake the soothin’ silver spinner
This scratchin’ fascinates us, so why don’t you too be real it
Make it hard enough so everybody can (Feel it)

(Just, just, just, just feel it)
(Just, just, just feel it)
(Just, just, just, just)
(Just, just, just, just feel it)

(Just, just, just, just)
(Just, just, just, just)
(Just, just, just, just)
(Just, just, just, just)

We’re called Whistle and this is true
We love to do the things that we’re not supposed to do
We don’t mean robbin’, stealin’ or muggin’
In fact we’ll take it seriously, we’re only buggin’