Step In - People Under The Stairs

I be the first ripper with the gift of the gab

Getting 'em mad when they see me coming, it’s like, «Uh oh

We running!»

My presence is in the past tense of your mind

Can’t forget it, but better get with it for the slipping

We whipping, I’m sitting 'em down in alphabetical order

Your rhyme’s worth a penny, man, somebody said it was a quarter

I knew it was chump change, some change their attitude

I change my altitude, high, in the afternoon

Everyday of the weekend, I’m a warrior seeking

A fresh drum loop and guitars to get me tweaking

Like a speed freak, doing it knee-deep

So round and round, from town to town, we go to the next show

Telephone holder to reach out and touch this

Electrifying, hair-raising enough to get 'em pissed

I ain’t a rapper, I’m a groover, whack-party remover

Yeah, we used to sing «Hoover!», now we known to school

A fishy MC I got my MD, for the moment I’m done, learn it on your own, son

Experience is a teacher, black guys are preachers

I be the illest rhyme reader, kick drum beater, the pretty women greeter

Non funk-faker, sushi bar hater, bitch user, drug abuser

Like I said before, I’m all about the dollar, making 'nuff sense

So to the change we go, and to the change we go, and to the…

You know who we are, yeah, you know who we be

Yo, she us on stage, you seen us in the street

You see us in the record store, buying it up

Sly told you to try, but you ain’t trying enough!

Ai-yo, seguimos con la onda nueva la bomb betamax p el he p (PLAP?) porque

Piraten los CD’s so accion on the phone like they home:

I gotta go, stepfather yelling up the staircase like «GO!»

Turn down your stereo and Mario Brothers

Beat lovers uncover the funk like «Ta-da!»

Who check a jawbone and dirt comb like archeologists

So follow this artistry, curriculum for colleges

I ought to be the audible, switching to offense, button-loop

I go deep, guaranteed openness

You catch a pass like Al Bundy, rocking at Polk

Touchdown turn to smoke when rocking for kinfolk

It’s too hard, feel my propane like Hank Hill

We’re too raw, take the beef straight to the grill

Like don’t phase, like bomb blaze and brown beer

Pack up your keyboard, we don’t play that shit 'round here

I’m Thes One, producing MC, one of the best

He’s Double K on the cut, we the P.U.T.S

So here it is, word to Biz Mark and Jazz Jeff, they said «Don't stop»

I «California Roll» through the crosswalk

It’s too def, my rhymes toss signs and gangbang

Set up shop like Freeway Rick and lane change in L. A…

Ay-yo, you know who we are, yeah, you know who we be

Yo, she us on stage, you seen us in the street

You see us in the record store, buying it up

It’s like I told you to try, but you ain’t trying enough!

We’ve got it all together

Coming on strong

Lay it on me

That really sounds good

Satisfaction guaranteed

Dyn-o-mite!