| It’s K One and Double Thes, you’re necks, please protect
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| Yeah, to brace a fireplace, it’ll only take a sec
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| For the damage to begin, wreaking havoc on eardrums
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| We cold-getting dumb, getting you crazy-styled
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| Late-night, hyped division, we be moving with precision
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| We’re just spots popping off, making some decision
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| ‘Bout hitting ‘em one at a time with these ill rhymes
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| Mind love at the door, free drinks, hitting the floor
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| The Zodiac sign time ladies adore, club tour ambassador
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| Who giving you more, Double K?
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| Double K, the unified bomber, ain’t nobody calmer
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| When it comes to beatscaping, I’ll be racing, truncating
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| Sucka niggas pay for beats when they claiming that they’re making ‘em
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| But we know that they faking ‘em, yo, tell what we making it
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| You’re funked up, I throw ‘em in the trunk
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| With a pump, chump, drop ‘em after they dump
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| And leave ‘em lumped up with my one-man gang
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| ‘Cause me and Dub’ll bring «pane» like a window
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| I’m blowing like a kid on a Nintendo game
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| Games, I got dames, but don’t be showing no attention
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| Like we getting when we ripping out of sight, fiending description
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| You can’t see us, we far out where we residing
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| Taking another step, let your style joyride, ho!
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| Joyriding, joyriding, joyriding, joyriding, your body
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| Woo! |
| Oh yeah… haha, yeah, first … ho!
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| People Under The Stairs are joyriding the track
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| Check it out! |
| So watch the P! |
| You know who! |
| Ha!
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| We got…
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| Check it out, check it out, check it out…
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| Ay-yo, dome my flows, poetry to party prose
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| My pa’s blue Mardi Gras tape took talent shows
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| Snotty-nosed youth, vocal booth and vermouth with the truth
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| O.S.T. |
| to push ‘em through the roof
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| Yo, we don’t need no water, let the acetate burn
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| ‘Cause you know the P’s hot, they love it when we drop
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| Like Stud McAlison, and we’ll show you the definition
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| Of keeping the crowd’s attention, but oh, I forgot to mention
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| We’re here with our whole bay tracks and known facts
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| Still blowing wax like birthdays, and laid back
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| Like the first day of class, and sneaking a hall pass
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| When punk crews see me cruise past, they haul ass
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| Heater believes at 3 o' clock, leave the bar fully stocked
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| We coming in to do it live, calling, enjoying your rock
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| Two brothers like no other on the street, taking charge
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| On the stage, living large, you niggas know who we are
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| We are the P, professional, you know the ticket
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| In the states, we’re dope, in Great Britain, we’re (Wicked!)
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| On stage, ripping the rage, repping my rhyme page
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| People Under the don’t play, Double, what’d you say?
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| Yo, I forgot ‘cause of the pot, so excuse me if you must
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| Raise the temperature ‘cause we gon' get atcha, soon as the rent is up
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| For now, we gonna chill right here where we residing
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| Watch your step on the way out, nigga, we joyriding! |
| Ho!
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| Joyride with this… Joyride… Joyride… Joyride… Joy… Joyride with this… joy… joy,
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| joy, joy
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| It’s the P, y’all… Ha ha! |
| It’s the P, y’all… Big style DJs, yeah, L.A.
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| 's in the house like that, yeah, L.A.'s in the house like that, yeah, L.A.
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| 's in the house like that, yeah, L.A.'s in the house like that, a-like that,
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| a-like that-da-dat…
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| We are the P! |
| (Professional…) (Like that!)
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| With the U! |
| (Unified…) (Oh yeah! C’mon!)
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| With the T! |
| (Talented…) (Guess what?)
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| On the S! |
| (Shit that’s…) (Hoo! Oh yeah!)
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| We are the P, professional! |
| (Rhymes…)
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| U, unified! |
| (School district!)
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| T, talented! |
| (hip hop…)
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| With the S! |
| (And the shit that’s tight, unique)
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| (‘Cause we the shit!)
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| Ha ha!
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| Party! |
| Party! |
| Party! |
| Om Records in the house…
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| Hah!
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| Om Records is definitely in effect… in 2003, fool! |
| People Under the Stairs… The
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| freshest thing out there! |
| Coming direct, straight to your neighborhood!
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| Om Records in effect! |
| Suckas!
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| Hah!
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| What’s up?! |
| Let’s get outta here, man…
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| Ooh… |