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the tamburo 5 - people under the stairs lyrics

[sample]
“…be chancing with all them foreign loc’s around?”
“huh huh huh huh huh… i think not! they wouldn’t dare to expose me!”

[naimad]
for the n*ggas who’s listening, i want y’all to pay attention
as i start dissing wack mcs, on a bg mission for the fools who’s missing
udc is the coalition, the undisputed champs
who smoke beedis and lamp
these n*ggas taking this hip*hop deal as a joke
talking about freestyles that they wrote and never did a show
all the talk is how many hoes they hit, and who man weed they hit
this sh*t gotta quit! back in ’86, it was the sh*t
brothas breakin’ at venice beach, looking for tips
ain’t that a b*tch? moms want me in the house by 6
say “what’s up” to thes, hooking up beats that’s fresh
and all those n*ggas in the p.u.t. to the s
coming from the west, rocking this sh*t ’til there ain’t nothing left

[sample]
“…and don’t forget jersey…”

[assault]
no right hand on green in this here game of twister
on the next go around, best to pass this mister
it’s your worst nightmare, mad hand in all the other indicators
by my need, i’m no herbal stimulator
cave your chest in like abbots know my method
those who question me, it’s who i am, not impressed in their direction
or bros harmed and trapped with low visibility ’cause your thoughts unravel
but my thoughts stay raveled to keep my words appropriate
too bad how much you indulge don’t match with how dope you get
i hope you quit pondering if this sh*t was just a trend
n*ggas i swore wouldn’t go there, went off the deep end
i’m peeping, they like… (does he still respect?)
i drop the fat dimes that f*ck up your mind, so check me…
[shine 5]
not knew it reversed, he cover grimy, greasy
like to the speakeasy or to the bourbon at the bar
diamond smile on their star, her set*up man in the whip
flashing a sign, catching the bartender with a poison dart tip (bing!)
which would finger to a lift, i replace it with my soul
i reach deep into my soul as room becomes a black hole!
i’d shine like fresh polish, my protection
surrounded by anti*gods with no reflection
the invisible one speaks: “you ain’t tough!”
be moving wrong, swift kicks to his followers
i asked, “where’s my father!?”, someone drops a feather
shots hot like tempura belt me out my low sweater
lighting flash over me, stands like dahmer (with the heater…)
another good soul lost in the quest for tambura!!

[sample]
“you must… you must be losing your touch, jersey”

[double k]
some n*ggas in this rap game be p*ssing me off (why?)
’cause they be swearing on their moms that they be coming off hard
yo, you ain’t coming off sh*t, besides that sh*t you on
b*tches got you thinking you bad just ’cause you made a little song
take a hit from the bong, boys, check out the gong boys
take a look at the crowd, that’s why your moms ain’t proud
yo, your work ain’t appealing ’cause it’s your cap i’m peeling to the dirt
f*ck around and get your feelings hurt
i’m going out for the k!ll, fool, you know what’s the deal
that’s why your g*y*ass crew is chilling with that look on their grill
like “he a bully”, but man, you just a p*ssy with mixed emotions
about rapping, sell your cds and take a tapping…
[thes one]
for the rhyme pilot, pulling n*ggas to the violent portal
existing in states that’s not mortal or your average, not savage
the incan thinker, process i see, drop a line for your spine like kung fu
see, i make it dense, got rhymes like section 8 applicants
therefore, the crew out the house, kids when we rock mics
domination since days of playboy hats and black types
10*4, thes rock, sock it to you with spanish soul
a quarter*inch cable stab through your boneskull
paralyzed in the middle of your fake pimp*walk
(yo!) him shall catch, but him to talk hops
scotch in a glass filled with methylated nitrogen
upon suggestion, endorphins turn to heroin
you’re lost and loving life, feeling so no pain
p.u.t.s. beat you down with b.p.m.’s to the brain

[sample]
mask of tambura… mask of tambura…

- people under the stairs lyrics

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