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Stay Home
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People Under the Stairs
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Intro: Really wish I had stayed home and gotten high (Sample) ‘Stead of coming into this street and havin’ this awful fight (Sample) Verse 1: Thes One Yo in the darkness under the stairs Shadow castin’ a silhouette pair of MC’s Scribbling elegies, by candlelit night Undead writers losin’ lives to rhyme fights Tryin’ to bite, losin’ the limelight to the P Who’s undercover in some L.A. hats? 40 days in the studio, struck water for [?] A top of mountain made of milk crates Throwin’ the tablet down, on top of breaks Then dub it to black tapes for the chosen People, who still live in the folklore Of DJ Kool Herc, Bam and Grand Wizard Theodore Before any punk with a keyboard could do it Yo, Apache was the sh*t and every b-boy knew it And so we do it, ‘cause we follow original rules When only microphones and old records were tools Flash forward 20 years later, they callin’ us haters Yo popular rappers call it progress, they ain’t no greater Than late 70’s disco, Puffy it sounded simple Yo, it’s number one rap? Y’all rather hear an 808 handclap Than that miscontrolled use of culture That I love and grew up in So many of the wrong mother f**kers blew up In the late ‘90s, here it is Either love your art form or be a star in showbiz And get paid and get money Me and Double K’ll sit back with a sack yo And just monkey with funky breaks Then press it on black tapes Payin’ homage to greats, then spread across U.S. States Makin’ show dates, diggin’ in crates, payin’ dues We’re a local, national, international crew Verse Two: Double K Never thought when I was comin’ up that I would be the average Skateboardin’, football playin’, I was into stayin’ in the house Droppin’ needles on albums I didn’t know about AM stereo, frequently I never cared about Wrestlin’ and ice cream trucks Just wanted to ride with my cousin E.J Because his car had bumps My brother swear to pick me up Bump loud down Crenshaw To his pad in Gardena where he let a n***a get off Gave me doubles of Funky Drummer, took the rest of the crates Locked me up inside his room, 14 years later I’m straight And y’all should blame it on that man for the havoc I wreak Taught me to speak through techniques, and never critique A DJ with no rhythm just pull the plug and be out Get some records from that fool, that’s what I’m talkin’ about And ol’ n***as like that to me get ‘nuff respect Cash checks, carry TECs, believe in SP-12s Raise hell about they vinyl, if it’s not in its place Can rock a house with two crates, and always showin’ up late Ayo to y'all I say thanks and I’ma keep it ridin’ ‘til never And Double’s in this Outro: And Thes One’s in this And Double K’s in this And Thes One’s in this Yo, and yo the P’s in this And Double K’s in this And Thes One’s in this Yo, and L.A.’s in this What? Yeah
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