Show Lyrics

Knowdaverbs - Strange Dames
(from the album The Syllabus)
© copyright 1999, Gotee Records

Had an encounter with the dame “where?” at the wrong place. It was a half past the wrong time when this gal showed her face.
Her outer description, form was bad like crime, you could tell she prepped in mirrors for long drawn amounts of time.
She appeared angelic, Fashion Fair relic, you can’t get used to, STOP, to entertain that thought would be a plot by the accuser.
Look though, this is where my first mistake was. I was curious to find out more on who she was. I could tell there was interest when our eyes shook hands, not knowing she’s a strange dame with foreign plans.
So I began to travel to her corner, diagonal from where the Factors loitered. Should have stayed and avoided this whole scenario, but yet I wanted to inspect to see what I could detect through platonic dialect.
So I approach with caution as always I feel I need to. Following guidelines of chivalry is proper procedure. Then extend my hand to make initial introduction, trying to stay calm but stumble through merbal valfunction.
I stuttered through all kinds of words, then I finally spit it out, “Hello I’m Knowdaverbs.” I await for her to reciprocate the greeting, thinking if by chance is this the dame that I’ve been needing?
Measure virtues by the text could guarantee her clearance. Wanted to know if her name could compliment her appearance.
So I stood there, sitting at the edge of my feet, hanging on like Stallone to every word that she would speak.
I listen closely for her lips to form her name, trying to remain tame but she was way too pretty. Her hair was silky how she worked it, was looking way too perfect. I swore she was Pine Valley or Genewa City.
She spoke with vocal tones that tried to hypnotize me. The Spirit recalled the text, shot the flesh and tranquilized me.
Which was swell so I couldn’t leave the conversation, get down to essentials and find out what’s her inspiration. She said her birthplace was from the island of the Saunas “Oh and by the way they call me Unyoka Uhuh.
(Chorus) Now presenting foreign ladies and strange dames. Shiny eclipses, thinking that they may pertain. Stop! The switching from crowns to concubines. Why try? She wasn’t called to be mine.
We volleyed questions back and forth just to see what I was facin’, then the enemy came and tried to enter the conversation.
But what to expect? ‘cause if I was out of line and if Christ wasn’t in common then we wasted our time.
But often enough it seems as it may, that I’m the last as if it counts to ever get any play. Especially from a dope girl, so of course I was flattered, I’d be lying if I said that her inner person had mattered.
For a split second it all seemed irrelevant, the crazy lessons I learn then live to tell of it. ‘Cause Yo! Her entire was fly like Mia Campbell truly. She was blessed with ample beauty.
But in the mean time while my brain was on hiatus, I was struck like lightning bolts and deeply moved like earth from craters. I wondered in my head how in the world this could be that this poetry in motion was out for me the emcee.
You know (duh) verbs, now I wish I lost him as Samson cross my mind and how much his talking cost him.
I’ve learned too much about Unyoka in ten minutes of conversation. I tuned out ‘cause she hit the wrong station.
In an instant Unyoka’s lingo became foreign, every direction she came is was from a strange origin. She was full of surprises, but what caught me the baddest is when she said “I have three bebes by four different dada’s”.
I’m stumped, wondering how genetics could permit it. Guess she’s down with the honeymoon without first the commitment.
DANGER! Me and the spirit now congruent and I’m looking around the room trying to figure where the crew went.
She’s talking about hooking up with her homegirl Tonja ‘cause she has this access to this half a sack of ganja.
OK then, I wish this talk could digress, like a dime with no face I became less impressed. She’s a golden charm with nothing in the locket, talking off the wall like Michael Jackson’s solo projects.
She wants to know ‘bout the plan that we had for the eve. She wants to kick it later but I told her we gotta leave.
Unsupervised time with this dame would do no justice. Avoid being engulfed by the flames of a seductress. Some may call it crude, but I call them as I view ‘em. I’ll only offer prayer ‘til she seeks out some renewing.
Really it hurts to such a pretty girl, drown in the pleasures of the world. When she saw I wasn’t into what she was into, she’s peepin’ other guys walking into the venue.
That’s cool, I grade the circumstance like a test, things didn’t feel too right, so I left!
(Chorus) Now presenting foreign ladies and strange dames. Shiny eclipses, thinking that they may pertain. Stop! The switching from crowns to concubines. Why try? She wasn’t called to be mine.
This applies to both the masculine and the feminine, don’t cast your pearls to swine watch them circles you be swimmin’ in.
Consider all things spoken and act as if you heard me before you wind up tied like J. Fox and Baxter Bearny.
Take into account where your faith is deposited don’t let the enemy withdraw you from a merger God has did.
All this comes about once you’re solely satisfied in the love of the father plus the third day revived.
‘Cause if not tell me what you have to rely on, what good is a mate you have to hire out a spy on? Ladies say for instance you’re in a ballroom dancin’ and get approached on the floor by a disguised Marilyn Manson.
Fellas you at the concert trying to run your game and pushed up on Marlena who is devilishly insane.
I’mma tell you now discontinue while you can, ‘cause for every strange dame there’s a peculiar man.
But you can wild it if you want to trade your crowns for girly pleasures or let the divine define and inherit the Father’s treasures.
So before you get too deep and the dating gets extensive don’t play yourself but ask, “Is this the one that God intended?”
If not I suggest you make tracks from the party and flee the crime scene before it gets too tardy!