Youth Explosion - People Under The Stairs

Venice boardwalk, to watch the choppers of v

From South Bay to Pasadena, yo we back on the scene

From 110, 10 405 to 5 my 9 to 5

Makin' it live, some flash bulb when we arrive

Got the city on lock, block for block, as we stomp through

Pop crews shining like new cop shoes

Keepin' a beat, we made it

Top of Friday night brothas always stay faded

And been underrated for a long time now

So take your black album, eat a peg

You can read it front page, people under the minimum wage

You freestyles are rockin’em still

High-profile like roof tiles on Echo Park Hill

Next step, payin' bills, stay dippin' like Dolomite

On an LA night, chillin' out in the heights (right)

So who can make it tight (we)

First initial the (P)

U-T-S Thes One and Double K just be

Rippin' up a track, on attack like a tyrant

Pullin' out the rhyme books, stack’em up, yo admire it

Fire it up, do the Cissy Strut down Stearns

Earning money for your liquor, sacks, blunts, and golden burg

It’s a way of life and since you’re living fat, be advised

P is back, stealin' old records and your fries

Black, guard your headphones

We’re internationally owned

For salmon like bones on show microphones

But before that’s said we gotta make sure that everyone out there is ready

Ayo we back like the rear

Your fear standing in front of you and your squad

Breaking’em down the numbers inside

On the follow-up tip, making sure that it’s fresh

Fat bump in the tub, and yo whatever you slang

You know their names from the first one, if not, go and get it

Two letters makin' it better for the fools that with it

And all the brothas with the funny haircuts, Get on the floor

Females, give out your address, we givin' you more

Like Rudy Ray, don’t need no DJ, sucka I handle that

Rhymes come in bundle packs to make you wanna humble the style

The new America’s most

With the Triple K, your days are up, claimin' your coast

I represent with a passion

And punk I ain’t askin, I’m tellin'

Then after that I’m bailin'

Call me Mr. Meaner

Cleaner than your pop’s bowling ball collection

Up in your section like z’s, straight off the tip philly G

That the homie rolled up, and that you get when I spit

I suggest high steppin', choose a weapon and flip

You can run, you can run, but you niggas can’t hide

I’m peepin' you at all times

You’re album’s like a show, dimes

So we put these together, made it potent in fact

Backed it up, as a five presented, made the streets live bird

And what you get, get into sound that we hittin'

(And yo your lady don’t think) because it’s armored like Brink’s

And locked down like your uncle T-Bone, ya know

So get ready, get ready, so we can start the show

Yeah we’re tired of your fake underground sound

Ya fired, non-vinyl buying, punk crying over Casios,

Get it re-wired so you can sample original breaks

You know that real funky shit, not them repressed fakes

Ayo the efil4zaggin will continue to be saggin'

And baggin' on these sally Thes cut MC’s

Until they learn the lesson we kept, molded and brought back

Keep the album, we out Black

Ayo you thought we comin' soft, man you lost your mind

Yo you thought we comin' soft, man you lost your mind

You thought the P was comin' soft, lost your mind

You thought the P was comin' soft (nigga you lost your mind)