We'll Be There - People Under The Stairs

Stomp ya feet, and clap ya hands

‘Cause you’re listening to the sounds of the P-Funk band

Ain’t nothing new in what we do, ‘cause we doing it all just for you

Stomp ya feet, and clap ya hands

‘Cause you’re listening to the sounds of the Sure Shot band

Ain’t nothing new in what we do, ‘cause we doing it all just for you

Uh to the…

Qualifying, rectifying, rocking ‘til the day we dying

Every time you’re screaming, crying, we’ll be there with no denying

(repeats)

C’mon Double…

Check it out, people, I’m so glad you’re here

I want my peoples in the front, my peoples in the rear

To let go of your troubles, grab a chair, and cool out

Turn up the stereo, light up the blunt, and crack the Guiness Stout

(Mike, you don’t drink that!) Yeah, but it rhymed

And I’mma keep going, flowing like the river, little nigga

Since 1987, I’ve been putting in work

Like a single mother serving suckas, and makin ‘em jerks

Big fluid when I do it, everybody say «go»

The cut creator of the hood, and already a pro

Smoking up the fat grams and slam like Big Show

Or Bam Bigelow to party down with the hoes

Until the crack of dawn, and don’t nobody dare yawn

«Word up!»

to Sanchez and the little homie rhymed

Right now, we on some wine-light, violin type

Make the beats late night, so they come out and act right

And put a kick in your eardrum, yo, you should expect

Nothing but the fly shit when we rocking your set

Damn right, it’s Thes One and Double K one time

Lay back with a cool one, so let’s do one, ya get it?

I’m like «with it» when it comes to being hip

Hang out with old dudes that’s rude, and talk shit

Close down on your rookies like your ladies at bedtime

Next time you wanna rhyme, throw this into rewind

And realize the real lives and the dope shit being given

It’s a privilege like your left turned herb, ya heard

Now I’mma chill with my blunt and Guiness, let the track speak

To all the stupid-ass people undermining the street

Yeah, I know what that was, when I «street,» I mean «real»

The People Under the Gangsta Steps, serving your thrill

Qualifying, rectifying, rocking ‘til the day we dying

Every time you’re screaming, crying, we’ll be there with no denying

(repeats)

Let’s rock!

(repeats)

(Amigitos!)

The type of family beat, horns with an age limit of like 38 and older

For old dudes, who pulled dames with game like a Pee Chee folder

For 40 holders, twist, tap, and drop the cap when you feel it

Non-sober sounds better, a sort-of a sweater-wearing groove

Got you feeling the jazz and make you wanna move

(On to the next brew!) ‘Bout to crack a new 32

Shout going to my crew and especially (Yahoo!)

Andre, Brandon, Paul, Anthony, Mike, and me

Who can’t stand new music, rather bump the JB’s

And stay ill, changing DATs, pushing rocks up a hill

Stupid sissy (Hush that fuss!) Ay-yo, chill!

Smoking beedis, hanging out the window sill, watching the moon

Writing rhymes, making beats, waking up at noon

Digging up old tunes, that’s the life for me

And chilling with my best friend whose name is MPC

So, Mike, please see if my track is going to tape

I gotta about a million rhymes, and I don’t know their fate

So one way or another, brother, I promise they’ll get heard

Yo, this is just the second LP, you can count on a third, word

And that’s all I got, before I go, I gotta give a shout

To Yuyo, Juan Carlos and Tino, Remi, Miguel, and Grenjes, mi primos

I’mma end this with Enola, I’m out drinking all the Inca Cola’s with rum

So get in the streets and act dumb (Says right here…)

People Under The Stairs, set rhymes to stun…

(Y’all niggas is out?) Aww, man, baby, don’t trip

The record’s not over, man, all you gotta do is flip…