BACKYARD BASS SOCIETY — DJ DR LOVE [Intro — deep spoken voice] Come around the side. Gate's open. Bring that chair with you. Yeah, that one. 007 FM. We keeping it in the backyard tonight. [Hook] Backyard bass, let the folding chairs rock, Got a little good company, no eyes on the clock. Smoke from the grill, little shade on the grass, Everybody got a story, let the good ones last. Backyard bass, put your troubles on pause, Paper plate bending under somebody's sauce. Dr Love on the dial, bring your own kind of cool, If you came through hungry, get yourself some food. [Verse 1] First one through the gate brought a bag full of ice, Next one brought opinions on how to cook it right. Said, "You turning that too early, let it sit, let it brown." I said, "You want this apron?" Everybody gathered round. Somebody brought a speaker, somebody brought a pie, Somebody said they're leaving, still here at half past five. Got an old friend laughing with his head thrown back, Haven't heard that laugh since we last sat like that. Nobody showing off what they paid for their ride, Just a couple extra chairs pulled up side by side. One leg sinking, put a board underneath, Hear a whole lot of living in the way these folks speak. I was heading in to check another mix on the screen, But a day like this deserves me right here on the scene. [Hook] Backyard bass, let the folding chairs rock, Got a little good company, no eyes on the clock. Smoke from the grill, little shade on the grass, Everybody got a story, let the good ones last. Backyard bass, put your troubles on pause, Paper plate bending under somebody's sauce. Dr Love on the dial, bring your own kind of cool, If you came through hungry, get yourself some food. [Scratch Break] Back-back-backyard! Pass that-pass that plate! Dr Love! Hold up, let that bass vibrate! [Verse 2] Somebody telling how we used to dress back then, Got the dates all wrong, so we correct him again. He said he won that race; three people said, "You lost!" Now he standing up demonstrating how he took off. That's the kind of rich you can't put in a vault, Same old jokes with the same old faults. I look around slow, let the picture sink in, Glad we didn't wait for an occasion to begin. Sun slips down, somebody switches on the light, Music gets warmer in the cooling-off night. Turn it down a little when the neighborhood rests, Still enough kick to put a bounce in your chest. Pack a plate for the road, take a piece of that cake, And don't wait six months till the next time we make it. [Bridge — spoken] Look at us. All these years later. Still arguing over who was fastest. Still glad everybody came. [Final Hook] Backyard bass, let the folding chairs rock, Got a little good company, no eyes on the clock. Smoke from the grill, little shade on the grass, Everybody got a story, let the good ones last. Backyard bass, put your troubles on pause, Paper plate bending under somebody's sauce. Dr Love on the dial, bring your own kind of cool, If you came through hungry, get yourself some food. [Outro — deep spoken voice] Who left these sunglasses? And who took my good folding chair? Yeah... We doing this again. 007 FM.
