Montego Slay - People Under The Stairs

Ahhh Once again

Yes yes

Irie

Getter rough

Get with People Under the Stairs

Once again

Rough

We tackle rhymes like your life lays time

We trying to get enough, we gotta fill up

Before it’s all gone the song remains on

Until the beat stops, nevermind, no need to remind

You know who we be, yo it’s the capital G’s

Putting the P’s in hip hop, saying hi to the ho’s

Who wear hardly any clothes, here’s looking at you

Watching you, watching me the incredible MC

Chicks call me Mikey (why's that?) cause I like it

They stare when I’m digging it and know they wanna try it

They like the way I rap, they like the way I chill

Couple hours in a conversation show them how I thrill

I’m a one minute man I lick it then split it

Empty it out fill it in like the blank and I’m out

Big Mike that’s right give them something they can feel

Yo I’m the top-ranked chief on the wheels of steel

I walk the streets of L.A. and feel comfortable

Me and the homie make music and they come in with bullets

So next time you got a rhyme that’s blazing hot, throw it away

People under to save the day

Sometimes it ain’t timed, sometimes it can’t be

This time we kick back and let your conscious be free

The music is playing loud and we never have to leave

We never gotta leave, we never gotta leave

I ain’t going nowhere

Let your conscious be free

Yes Yes

Irie

Beautiful brown skin lady, you move something, Montego Bay-style

Smile from the Caribbean isle, no fronting while we pumping the beat

Audio files to jumpig like Guile out of their seat

With the complete vibe, scooters and 45's to palm trees

Red-stripped nights the calm breeze the type to relax

Ease back to conceive wax and contact the origin of habitat

Two cats making it fat, it’s like that

With a rap similar to a pitter-patter of a cat

Walking a roof to make it back to the truth

(I dig crates) for the late-great existence of black plates

To booming the eighths on the floor, making you want more

Leaving my mark like a dark mark on a wood floor

It’s good for the soul like dinner with your moms

People Under the Stairs the duo who drop bombs

Snares laid back like armchairs at the beach

I’m outta reach, so play my CD and let it teach

The recipe: half B. Crocker, half David T. Walker

Fresh breath control like Binaca

Sometimes it ain’t timed, sometimes it can’t be

This time we kick back and let your conscious be free

The music is playing loud and we never have to leave

We never gotta leave, we never gotta leave

Never gotta leave

Stay right here

Came here to rough up the crowd

Yes Yes

To the People Under the Stairs

Irie Irie

We had a fire today in East L. A

Hundred and ten got burned

The governor said «it's quite OK

They’re all on *musical dope* anyway!»