Ahh, once again
Yes, yes
Irie
Getting rough on the track man
Here with the People Under the Stairs
Once again, man
Rough, mash it
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
Never mind, 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 hoes 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
They like the way I rap, they like the way I chill
Couple hours in a conversation, show 'em 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 'em something they can feel
Yo, I'm the top-ranked chief on the wheels of steel
I walk the streets of LA and feel comfortable
Me and the homie make music and they coming with bull
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 (I ain't never gotta leave)
Irie
Yeah (yeah, man)
I ain't going nowhere (yes, yes, star)
So what you gon' do?
(Yes we just cooling out right now, we cooling)
Yo-yo, ay oowee (fresh)
(Mash up everything)
And let your conscious be free, that's right
D
(Cooling out, in the house)
Yes, yes, irie (in the house)
(Irie) Brush them off
Thrash up the dancehall
This shit is long (fresh)
Beautiful brown skin lady, you move something
Montego Bay style, smile from the Caribbean isle
No fronting while we pumping the beat
Audiophiles that jump in like I light up the seat
With the complete vibe, scooters and 45s
The palm trees, Red Stripe 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-pat of a cat
Walking the 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 Doc Mart' on a wood floor
It's good for the soul like dinner with your moms
People Under the Stairs, the duo that drop bombs
Snares laid back like armchairs, hit the beach I'm outta reach
So play my CD and let it teach the recipe
Half D. 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 the conscious be free
The music is playing loud and we never have to leave
Yo we never gotta leave, yo we never gotta leave
(Buh-bye) Yes man, never gon' leave, man, stay right here
Listening to the good tunes, cooling out
In here to rough up the track, rough up the track
Not the people, yes yes, to the People Under the Stairs
Yes yes, irie (irie), irie
Yes you know it's good in the irie
To me, right here, man
I'll catch up with you later, yeah yeah
Ooh wow (cool)
Wow, oh
Oh, look (look at that)
Whoa, ooh that's a-
