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Correct Earth Travelers Lyrics
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Artists: P
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People Under The Stairs
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Correct Earth Travelers
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Lyrics:
([Double K:] Uh… check it out, y’all… it’s the P, you know… sending this one out right here… everybody that put it down for L.A.… all the crews and shit, putting it down for they crews, and battling other crews, doing whatever… also want to give a big “Rest In Peace” to that nigga Bigga B, who gave a lot of us heads something to do on the weekends and weekdays and whatnot, that one’s for you… my nigga… bring the noise!) [Double K:] There’s no better way to start your day then this Checking out the supreme two, recover the blitz That was once in hip-hop, but lately, this shit’s cheap Every man sound like another look-a-like in the street And that’s bad, that ain’t nothing to brag and boast about Get on TV, fake the funk, and show out Ay-yo, that’s high school shit, niggas need to present Something like this, hanging with the purpose of kicks Back hands and fly rhymes, and Thes with the loops Something lovely for the troop, in a jeep or a coupe ‘Cause its universe-atile, you know the way it was When everybody enjoy the body rock in the clubs But, yo, nowadays, it’s either this or it’s that I rather diss real quick with a baseball bat The hat stays to the back, and the sack steady burned The way cool West rocker with stripes to earn Not the tape you claim, that ain’t the game I play In the cut, I lay twats and study day-to-day The masters of the cere- taking care of the crowd I get cheers when I’m moving, if- yo, if not, they’re booing It don’t matter, I still do it, strike harder than first Put everything I been thinking into one long verse Without a curse, without the bullshit, running it down The way I do it kinda spooks, spread it over your town For these Starbuck-niggas running up to the mic They don’t excite, they bite, going against the rules Like it’s nothing, but it’s day is coming And one time, me and Thes’ll be, like, here… laughing and shit… [Rap sample:] Cold tearing shit up Damn People Under The Stairs Cold Tearing Shit Up [Thes One:] Yo, I roughly rearrange, connect text through context, to set a frame (Double K:] Alright…) I allow my lyrical campaign through vocal grain With well-trained thoughts, I spot stains in the fabric of time With the magic of mind, I fabricate rhyme connections Then harvest pop culture with old record collections With soul in our ears, we hear loops they can’t And free the lost rhythms of indigenous chants We hip-hop enhanced like banging on lunch tables Ransacking Radio Shack for RCA cables Hats with your name sown on at the Swap Yo, it’s all in our blood, pulled out through red drops Until we stop, we claim a separation that always has been Since when Hard Bop broke from Cool Jazz From the West and manifest the style like Hampton Hawes As yet, Thes rap-like Gods and show flaws on others I went from pause loop tapes to twenty-four crates Discovered: history repeats, so I looped beats Collect loot on the streets, keep the people out of their seats At shows with the long-handed flows of polysyllabic prose And No-Doze, administered no sleep Yo, we come from the Sunset, and that packs heat You see, the style is westerly, like the winds of change You see, this style packs heat like things cooked on a range You see, this range is cultural spare change that’s forgot Thes-One’ll keep the art form hot… [Thes One:] Dedicated… to… every forgotten crew Dedicated… to… all those Los Angeles crews Dedicated… to… all the DJs… still doing it from back in the day Dedicated to South Bronx… Look where we at now, y’all… Dedicated… To L.A. (repeated on double delay) [Spoken sample:] To find out where you fit in, call your recreation office and get behind the act. Just for the fun of it! Who knows? Inside you, there may be a masterpiece! ([Spoken sample:] Dolla’ bill, y’all!)
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